Be a Bird

Good morning,

It's been awhile, I know. Today's into the blue is close to my heart; my writings always are, but this one is particularly so. Writing this piece was for me; sharing this piece is two-fold: it is an invitation for love and support and understanding; and it is a offering to help others feel love, support, and understanding.

As always, thank you for reading,
Georgia

Be A Bird

When I gave birth to Pip, I had an epidural: I was sucking on a red popsicle during contractions--I think I even took a nap. Three years later, when I gave birth to Phoebe, I decided I wanted to experience childbirth without drugs to numb the pain. I can assure you there were no popsicles or naps on July 11, 2012. I even told Roo, at one point towards the end: "I'm sorry, but this is it. I am going to die. I love you." Roo was traumatized...so traumatized that when they finally put our round, beautiful baby on my chest, I looked up at Roo, and through tears of joy and relief, I asked: "What did we have?" Blankly, Roo stared at me and our baby, "I don't know," he said. We looked at the doctor on call, who replied, "Oh, you don't know the sex?" She lifted up our baby, and said, "It's a girl."

I told Phoebe's birth story many times, as evidence of how Phoebe's arrival left us awestruck, but it wasn't until recently that Roo reminded me of this story amidst new context. For the first moments of Phoebe's life, there was no gender, just a big, round, beautiful, healthy Phoebe on my chest. Until recently, I never thought of the story as one of foreshadowing.

Last fall, I was driving Phoebe to get a haircut, when Phoebe said: "Mom, I have decided something."

"OK. What have you decided?"

"I've decided I want to identify as they until I decide my gender. My preference is people just call me Phoebe, but if they get stuck, and they have to use a pronoun, people can use they."

I took a deep breath.

"O.K. Can you tell me a little bit more about how you've come to this decision?"

"My whole life, I've never felt like a pink girl or a blue boy, I've always felt like a green Phoebe."

And there it was: my sweet, nine-year-old articulating their understanding of they so clearly and easily. And yet, much of me strained to listen above an internal fury of anxiety and denial. Thank goodness, a wiser, bigger part of me was also present, and knew my job was to rise up, and not succumb to fears of uncertainty or difference. I also knew this moment between me and my baby was essential in solidifying the 9-year-old foundation underneath Phoebe.

At the hairdresser, my mind raced as I watched Phoebe's hair fall to the ground. I was desperate for more answers. I was desperate for Roo. I was desperate for Phoebe to tell me "actually, mom, I'm just a tomboy" because at least tomboy is familiar?...more acceptable? I was desperate to know what gender Phoebe would eventually choose: would Phoebe be they forever, or would Phoebe one day identify as she again...or was this a stepping stone to Phoebe transitioning to a boy. I fought my reeling mind to stay present to Phoebe, who was beaming at their new haircut in their reflection. On our way home, I couldn't help myself, and I probed for more answers, and of course, my beaming Phoebe started to shut down. Phoebe didn't understand why I was acting like this was such a big deal.

If I could go back in time, I would tell this November version of myself to slow down. I would remind her to meet Phoebe where Phoebe is, and to not hurry Phoebe along to where I was (or away from where I was scared of going). I would remind myself that my job was simple: to love, support, and most importantly, stay out of Phoebe's way. I would tell that younger self that only time can answer my questions, and until then, to settle down, let go, trust, and rise up. I would remind her that this is a massive opportunity to practice patience--to let go and let live. I would whisper to her in a warm embrace:

"I promise, it's OK. It's more than OK, you'll see."

A few weeks after Phoebe's haircut, Phoebe wrote the following with their teacher, and asked her to share what they wrote with the class while Phoebe stepped out:

Phoebe wants to let you know that Phoebe now identifies as Phoebe or “they" until Phoebe decides Phoebe's gender. Phoebe prefers that you use Phoebe’s name when possible but if you have to use a pronoun, please use “they.” Phoebe shared that when Phoebe was younger, Phoebe felt as though they were not a pink girl or a blue boy but green. This might be confusing for some people to understand but this is how Phoebe sees themselves. In the game of Life, there are only 2 colors: pink for a girl and blue for a boy and Phoebe never liked having to make that choice. Sometimes, Phoebe would choose the blue person but mostly because blue is Phoebe’s favorite color. Even though Phoebe identified as she, Phoebe didn’t feel like the pink person represented who Phoebe is. Phoebe knows that people will make mistakes and appreciates if you would all help politely correct people who use the wrong pronoun. If you have questions, you can ask now and you can also ask Phoebe when Phoebe comes back to class or later as you think of other questions.

After Phoebe's teacher read the above, a classmate declared: "I mean, it's still Phoebe, our friend!"

One thing that has become very apparent since November: our childrens' minds and hearts are much more open than our adult versions. Since Phoebe's announcement, Pip has never made the mistake of calling Phoebe she or her. Roo and I, on the other hand, make the mistake of saying she/her/daughter/sister often, but it's getting less and less. We are trying our best, Phoebe knows this, and that's enough. Everytime I hear Phoebe's brother and peers respect Phoebe's wishes so gracefully, my heart swells, and I know Phoebe's does too. As for us older folks, Phoebe is incredibly patient and understanding with our calloused minds.

In the past 6 months, I've made a huge effort to educate myself. (This has helped me stop looking to my nine-year-old for answers.) The more I read, and the more I talk to folks, the more I learn, and the more I learn, the bigger, more expansive I become. It feels so good to stretch my mind and heart in new ways, and to be part of communities filled with folks who have already done the work of letting go of binary ways of thinking. It's been riveting to consider life without the absolutes of right and wrong, good and bad, black and white, male and female.

Phoebe's past 6 months, on the other hand, have looked very different than mine. There's nothing to undo/rework, thank goodness; Phoebe is simply focused on being Phoebe, and Phoebe is thriving. They made their first prototype (see above image) for their gender neutral clothing company, Bird. They are dominating the lacrosse field and tennis court. They are leading in our family reading challenge (not an easy feat with me and Pip in the runnning). They got their ears pierced. They have made new friends at their new school, and rediscovered their love of basketball on the blacktop at recess. They are training and tending to our newest puppy, Fudge. They've become the NY Rangers' second biggest fan. They are super helpful and thoughtful when their mom is overwhelmed. They're always prepared and never late (I'm not sure where they came from!). They demand to be put to bed properly (with snuggles, prayers, and backrubs) every single night, and if I ever say something like,

"I can't tonight, Be, I'm cooking."

Phoebe quickly reminds me, "Mom, you know you feel better when you come up with me." And so, I turn off the burner, and head on up, and every single time, I feel so much better.

Earlier this year, when Phoebe was given the opportunity to join a LGTBQ+ affinity group at their school, Phoebe thoughtfully declined:

"I'd rather just go outside and play during that time, mom."

I recently read a very simple yet helpful definition of they:

Someone using they suggests that using she or he doesn't feel right. It usually means that person doesn't feel like a man or a woman and thinks of gender as more expansive and fluid. But the goal of it all (the whole they thing, and all gender expression really) is to let everyone find who they are and do whatever they want to honor that identity. The freedom to wear what they want, speak how the want, be whatever feels right. That's they's mission: more freedom for everyone. (Getty, p. 42)

Of course Phoebe chose me: all I've ever wanted in this lifetime is to expand as wide as I possibly can, not be distracted by beaten paths forged by fear, and discover what else is possible. Thank you, Phoebe Bird, for showing me the way.