Q: Hey TheWife, quick question. Why do you want to bring a child into the world in the middle of what’s obviously a really complicated relationship? Don’t you think you’re being selfish? You know this kid is going to have a shitty time of it growing up and they aren’t going to be able to invite any mates over unless they want them to see their second mum.
A: While I appreciate your concern for my family (and the passive-aggressive way you chose to display this concern) I think what I do with my reproductive organs are primarily my business. But, since this is a question I have a feeling may be asked a lot in the coming years, I’m going to get this bad boy out of the way right now.
Essentially, the way I view it, a person is a person is a person. Their hair color shouldn’t affect their job, their marriage prospects, how much money they make, who they take to the prom, what kind of car they own, what side of town they live on, if they can have a family, how many kids to have, etc etc ad infinitum.
And since your typical crossdresser and/or transdgendered individual has no more control about how they feel than the color of hair they were born with, that should have no relevance on these things too. Just like your hair color, your gender can be changed. It differs, from state to state, the legal and societal repercussions of such a choice, but if you were born a black-haired, blue eyed male and you decide one day you’re going to bleach those locks, buy some contacts, and shun Mr. Happy for a Ms. Happy instead, then that STILL shouldn’t effect the kind of car you drive, the kind of house you own, the kind of job you have, OR WHAT YOU CAN DO WITH YOUR REPRODUCTIVE BITS.
Some TG folks have their eggs or sperm frozen and stored in case the day comes that they want to have a child of their own loins. It’s as simple as finding another donor for the biochemical cocktail and a surrogate to carry the embro all the way to childbirth and bam! Happy family plus one.
Regular old crossdressers are lucky in that most of them are not gay and most (at least, at this time in their lives) have no desires towards shunning their Mr/Ms Happy in any way. Most of them are simply folks who enjoy strutting around in some sexy, sexy duds. More power to them, we all like ourselves some sexy duds.
So, because of this, there is no stop sign on their progress to makin’ babies except any sign they erect for themselves. Many, many CD/TG folks already have kids. And, like most families, there is the usual compliment of drama and joy. Sometimes the families are happy, sometimes they’re not. That’s the gamble you risk when you have kids AT ALL. They may grow up to hate you. They may grow up and think you hung the stars. It’s all in how well you and said child communicate. Being from a CD or TG home doesn’t make that kid’s life all that different, really.
Now, this is just what I’ve heard thus far, but honesty seems to be the best policy when you’re talking living a CD/TG life at home. The younger your kids are when you tell them, the easier it’s going to be for them to adapt and for there to be little drama. Likewise, when puberty hits, the easier it’s going to be for them to ask awkward questions out of curiosity.
I may have mentioned before that my husband’s father is himself a crossdresser. While I’m sure it would make an interesting psychological or sociological study, I don’t believe that my CD-in-law’s choices had anything to do with my husband’s alter-ego. Just as children of gay couples don’t usually turn out gay, the kids of crossdressers or transgendered folk aren’t necessarily going to start gender-bending. Of course, studies are still pending, I’m sure.
Finally, I want to talk a little about MY choice to have kids in this unique relationship. Do I feel I’m being selfish towards my kids by bringing them into a world where there’s still rampant war, racism, sexism, and many other kinds of “isms”? Yes, a little bit. However, I’m a firm believer in what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger if you let it and while this world may appear on the surface to be a scary place, it’s also a place of intense and unmistakable beauty and goodwill. People will be kind if you give them half a chance and unspoiled nature is both thrilling and terrifying. While it may be selfish of me to drag a child into this conglomeration of good and bad, I feel it’s part of the circle of life and, on the whole, a “good thing”.
I honestly have more concerns about dragging a kid into the world as a whole than I do about bringing a baby into my relationship. What most people don’t know – reasonable, seeing as all you have to go on is my blog and know nothing of me personally – is that Melanie and I adore each other. We are BFF4Eva! We play games together, eat just about every meal together, shop together, laugh together, talk together. We have our tough moments, our moments when life isn’t so grand, true, and there are time’s I’d like to stab Melanie with a spoon for being a jackass, but overall… we’re so unbelievably happy and in love.
Love is this immense, unbelievable, fantastic force in this world. I’m not talking about lust or the ache in your pants when you look at another person, I’m talking LOVE. True love, real love, the sort of thing that reporters talk about in saccharine tones when you see that a couple has been together for 80 years and die within weeks of one another. Love.
I LOVE my husband. I love him no matter what clothing he’s wearing or what name he’s adopted. I love him when he’s crossdressing, when he’s Melanie, when he’s in a skirt or wearing a wig. I love him when he’s not. I love him first thing in the morning when he’s sleepy and grumpy and doesn’t want to go to work. I love him right before bed when he’s sleepy and grumpy and doesn’t want to go to sleep because he has to get up in the morning and go to work. I love him when he’s happy and when he’s sad and when he’s avoiding the dishes and when the trash gets taken out in six inch heels on ice. I love him when we’re playing video games or talking about superheroes or discussing politics, or debating psychology. I love him.
Love isn’t this finite thing, people. Love is this immense, intangible, ever-expanding emotion that doesn’t cut off when you bring someone else into your life. Love is like rubber, it’s stretchy! It’ll just reach out and wrap around that new person and draw them into your life and give them warmth and joy and laughter.
Any child we bring into this world is going to be LOVED. So why in the world would I think that doing so would be a selfish thing? I have no barriers in my relationship or in how I love people. I think you can love two people at once, ten people at once, a hundred people at once if you want to. I think that you can be “in love” with as many people as your heart desires. I think that emotions like jealousy and possessiveness come from a place of fear, an inherent belief that love is this scarce thing and that you must CLING to it or it will escape you.
That old adage – if you love something, set it free – is true. If you love something, love as honestly and as hard as you can and set it free. If it is true love it will come back to you. If not, then it wasn’t right. The same can be said for children. Kids… they don’t like to be lied to and it happens to them all the time. Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy. These are all well-meaning lies that can have this major impact on a kid’s childhood. I mean, how else would most of us have stories about the time we learned about Santa?
So I’m not going to lie to my kids about Melanie. I’m going to explain to them about crossdressing as soon as they start asking questions about the differences between boys and girls and want to know why other daddy’s don’t wear skirts around the house. I’m not going to lie to my kids because my husband is a crossdresser. I’m going to help them understand it.
As for my child’s “mates” (of which I can only assume you mean friends and not potential significant others) I hope my kid has the good taste to be best buds with kids who’ll understand. Or that the world will have progressed enough at that point that crossdressing won’t be the stigma it is today. Or, in the worse case scenario, that my child knows they’ll get teased about their dad and bring their friends over anyway and tell them to shut up.
I think teasing, like falling down and skinning your knees, is a part of childhood. I think that if we lived our lives in fear, pretending that we’re a “normal” family in the hopes of “protecting” little Us Version 2.0 then we are not living honestly and we are not living with love. I’m not going to lie to my kid. I’m going to teach my child to accept people based on who they are… not on what they wear – which can be changed – or the color of their hair – which can be changed – or even their skin – which, if you’re Micheal Jackson, apparently can be changed.
Live with love, everyone. Live with love.