I am transgender and I am a child of the 1950s, a generation of Americans that was rocked by the Civil Rights movement.
When I tell my mom about my gender identity, she does not know what to think.
I have spent most of my adult life telling her what it means to be a woman, a man, a member of a minority, and even a member, or not a member at all.
As a result, my mother has never had a clear understanding of what a transgender person is, and how to explain the concept to her daughter, or to anyone else.
I know this because, when I tell her about my mother’s trans experience, she is horrified.
But she is also grateful.
“I’ve never really understood what it was like to be transgender,” my mother said.
“The concept of a person transitioning, and I know that my mother is a person of color, but that doesn’t really sit right with her.
I guess I’m glad she is OK with it.”
My mother’s experience with the concept of gender identity is very different from mine.
Her father is white, her mother is African American.
“As a child, I always felt like I was in the wrong body,” my mom said.
My mother had long hair, but when she was in preschool, her family changed her hairstyle to match the color of her school uniform.
The school had a policy to make sure that everyone wore the same uniform.
My mom, a transgender woman, was not the only transgender person in her family.
I grew up with two siblings, my mom’s mother and my grandmother, and my mom had to wear a wig to get around.
The family never really liked the name that my mom was given, because it sounded like she was not female, and that meant she was male.
But as a child and teen, I learned to accept the fact that I was a boy.
When my mom and I were in high school, my parents were very strict about the way we wore our hair.
I think we had to keep our heads down and wear a ponytail.
As time went on, we grew up and my parents changed the way they dressed and the way that we talked.
I remember my mom getting in trouble a few times for wearing makeup, and she got a restraining order.
I am not sure what prompted her to get a restraining case, but I can say that the next time she was involved in a fight, she was a total bitch.
“When I was growing up, my family was strict about how we wore hair,” my parents said.
I can’t say that my parents did not want to dress in the ways that they felt most comfortable in.
I had a long ponytail, so I could wear it to school, but my mother always made sure that I didn’t.
As we moved into adulthood, we did not have to change our ways to fit in.
We grew up to be good friends, and have a family together that we are proud of.
My family does not believe that my identity as a transgender man should be the focus of our conversation.
When they ask my mother if she is transgender, they get a blank stare.
I get asked questions like, “What’s a transgender boy?” and, “Who is a transgender girl?”
I get a lot of questions about how to dress and what to wear, and they all sound like they are a little scary.
“Transgender people have a lot to learn about their own gender identity,” my father said.
They also have a few misconceptions about gender.
My father was raised as a Christian, and he has heard that transgender people are lying to him about their gender identity.
My parents do not believe the idea that transgender men are gay or transgender women are transgender.
My dad believes that transgender women do not exist.
My brother and I both live in the same state, so it is easy for us to fall into stereotypes.
My sister was always the same gender, but we have never been able to reconcile the gender identity of the two of us.
When people ask my parents what my gender is, my dad has to be honest with them and say, “It’s a mix.”
My mom does not have an answer.
“Gender is a social construct,” my dad said.
When he asked her about her gender identity at the age of three, she told him that she felt like she had a male body, but she also had a female body.
She had the sense that her body was not her own, that she did not know how to make herself look feminine.
She was very scared of her own body and worried that she would lose it if she did anything that upset it.
But, as a young child, my sister told me that she was attracted to boys.
“That is not who I am,” she said.
She has since told me she has a secret desire to have a child.