From An Estranged Mother
“I prepare myself for never having her back in my life, hoping... one day... I'll be able to hold her and tell her I still love her. I always have. I always will.”
My daughter's birthday was a few days ago. Wherever she is or how she spent the day there is likely waitstaff traumatized by her outbursts at her sex being correctly identified and the proper pronouns used.
I know I'm not being told off for the imagined offense of "outing" her. Because. She doesn't "pass" as male. Despite the books on how to dress like man she checked out of our local library. Despite buying all her clothes in the Boys section - she's too petite to shop in the Men's section. Even despite having an artificially lowered voice and sparse facial hair.
She presents as a diminutive woman with a hormone condition people were too polite to address. I don't know what she did to celebrate her 31st birthday because late last year she basically ran away from home. She didn't discuss it with me even though her name is on the lease for the home we shared. She didn't tell her sisters who were her employers, didn't bother telling them goodbye. No. She went on a 3 week vacation and disappeared.
Well, not entirely disappeared. Soon after she left on her sudden vacation notices of her change of address started arriving. Still, she never told us she wasn't coming back. She took keys to the front door as well as the spare key to my car. I've asked for their return, months later she still hasn't sent them.
Four years ago I realized I had heard my daughter's voice for the last time when she called me after another long vacation with her friends and I was confused who was calling me on her phone. I knew then, she had started taking testosterone. Her voice changed, then terrible acne, then body hair. Then she became nearly impossible to be around. Short-tempered and angry. I do not miss that about her at all.
Once her acne became so bad she rarely left home because if it, it became an obsession. She ordered every product promising to clear her skin. Once I ventured to say, "There's a sure-fire way to get it under control." She looked at me hoping I had the Holy Grail. I said, "Stop taking testosterone." This was the 1st I had ever brought it up. She chuckled and walked away. We only spoke of it 1 other time, she complained about her acne and I said, "Well, you know my solution."
Shortly before she left, she cut out all fat and salt from her diet. This made me suspect she had become concerned about the effect the exogenous hormones she was taking had had on her health. She didn't disclose anything to me though. The last time we communicated was a brief conversation about - of all things - turmeric. That was the last I heard from her.
Text messages "failed." I sent her Christmas gifts. No acknowledgment. I mailed her a check that came here for her, along with another request to return her keys. No response. I doubt I will ever see her again.
She's changed her name, taking on the 1st name of a male Cardassian from Deep Space Nine and the last name of a male Bajoran from Enterprise. Her sisters, her former employers, say they'd never trust her again. Her younger sister wouldn't put her stocking on the fireplace at Christmas nor put her basket out for Easter, saying she was 'dead.'
She, however, is not dead. She's out there somewhere. The daughter I carried, gave birth to, fed, changed, cared for when she was sick, the child I loved from conception to this moment but I've lost her. All I have is photos, memories, the detritus she left behind for me to dispose of.
I'm unsure how much I dare talk about this loss. If I talk about her, will that seal the shut door? Making it impossible for her to ever reach out if things change and she needs me? Or will it assure her, at the point, that she'll be welcomed back? I don't know. That's why I prepare myself for never having her back in my life, hoping... one day... I'll be able to hold her and tell her I still love her. I always have. I always will.
Letters From the Front is a new series from WoLF curating stories from women about how “gender identity” ideology has impacted them. We’ll share new letters, submitted anonymously, each week. Write in to share your own story!
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