Robin never wears the clothes I buy her.  And I don’t buy her “girly” clothes or anything like that.  I always try to buy athletic type clothes, unisex clothes, neutral clothes.  Even when I take her shopping with me and she picks out her own clothes, Robin won’t wear the clothes.  She won’t wear v-neck, if the crew neck shows too much neck, she won’t wear that.  Robin used to like skinny jeans, but not anymore.  Nothing can be “too tight”. So, that left her with a very  limited wardrobe and me giving away clothes that had never been worn.

Robin’s dad knows my frustration.  He decided that he would take her shopping, which was a relief to me.  Robin calls me as soon as they get back to the car.  She was so excited about all the clothes her dad bought.  She was happy, so I was ecstatic.  When Robin came home, she couldn’t wait for us to go out so that she could wear her new clothes.  I agreed to take her to the movies.  When she brought her outfit to my room for me to see, I thought the jeans looked a little big for her.  So as I asked what size they were.  Robin said she didn’t know.  So, I checked.  They were a boys/man’s 30 x 30.  You’d think that I would expect that based on all that I’ve shared so far.  But I didn’t and I asked her why she got “boy’s” clothes.  Robin replied that that was the only section they shopped in.  I asked why and I must have looked like my whole world was falling apart because my daughter started apologizing over and over, saying “I’m sorry Mommy”.  I felt like shit.

I was so angry.  I was angry because of how I felt.  I was angry with her.  I was angry with her dad.  I was just pissed.  In my head, I was asking why could she just be who she is and accept it.  Period.  Robin never told me she “felt” like she was a boy or said that she was a boy when she was little.  If she had I would have been more prepared.  I could have started coming to terms with this years ago.  But it feels like all of a sudden, my little girl who was always my little girl, wants to be anything but who she has been her whole life.  So what if she wants to play football and always wanted the “boy” toy from McDonald’s!  So did I. Who wants to play with a stupid doll when there is a racetrack with cars speeding around everywhere?  Who said liking jeans and not liking skirts or dresses made you a tomboy?  Who said not being girly meant you can’t be a girl?  What the hell is wrong with being a girl and liking whatever you want to like??

I’ve been reading about transgender kids and gender neutral, gender fluid, gender expansive.  And I still don’t understand.  Why can’t these kids just be who they are, like what they like, and not be labeled one thing or another?  Now, I’m not talking about children who start asserting that the ARE the opposite gender early in life.  In fact, I’ve read that there may be some genetic coding that contributes to a person being transgender (Human Sex Chromosomes are Sloppy DNA Swappers). So, I’m not arguing the point that there are transgender people.  What I’m saying is, I don’t understand why my child feels the need to ask me if she is “trans”.  I’m saying that society is placing undo pressure on children. We no longer watch what we say around them.  We no longer censor television or radio.  Children are exposed to so much that I feel they are not mature enough to understand and process.  Why does my child feel like she has to label herself as anything other than a child.

I got over the jeans thing. Clothes are just clothes.  It’s about what a person feels comfortable wearing.  Society sets the labels and we all follow suit.  Even the kids.

Here is the “Why”

This is the post excerpt.

I never thought that I would be a “blogger”.  I’m really not in to social media… I don’t tweet, I rarely post on Instagram or Facebook, and I’m not snapping or chatting anything.  But something significant is happening in my life that I need to talk about, I need to share, but I feel there is no one close to me who will be able to understand or relate to what I am experiencing.  I’m not a “talker” at any rate.  I’m one to say “talk doesn’t change anything”, you have to do something to make a change.  I feel I may need to make a change and I feel I have to share this experience and these feelings or I will implode. So, I may not be at the point of talking, but I can write.

When my daughter was around 7 years old she started asking me things like “why did you name me Robin”.  So I told her why we chose her name her Robin.  She proceed to ask, maybe not that day or even the same month, why didn’t we name her Rob instead.  Not thinking anything of it, I just chuckled and said something like “Rob is a boy’s name silly!”  She just laughed with me, said “oh okay, Mommy” and went back to doing whatever she had been doing.  Now around the same time Robin started talking about a little boy at school almost every day.  I would hear Mark this and Mark that; even though she always talked about her other friends, Kim and Nicole, she just seemed to talk about Mark more.  So family members and I started teasing Robin, saying she had a boyfriend, and she was just smile her beautiful little smile that lights up my world, giggle that little giggle that fills me with joy, and say “that’s just my best friend”.

Not much happened during that year, or not much seemed to stand out in my mind, at least.  But I’ve always thought of Robin’s 8th year as not our best year.  That year doesn’t seem to be as bright in my memory as all the others before or after.  Mind you, she’s only 11 now.  There were no major losses, no traumatic events, no issues with school or friends.  But I’ve always thought of that year as a bad year.  I never knew why until now, as I’m writing this out, it’s dawned on me.  Robin’s 8th year was the year.

My daughter has never been a “prissy” girl; but neither was I.  Robin played with dolls but was more interested in trucks or cars or anything that had more action than a doll.  But so did I.  Robin always liked sports and has an amazing pitching arm that her uncle’s likened to high school kids.  But plenty of girls are athletic and like sports.  Robin never really seemed interested in all the little dresses and “girly” outfits I bought her when she was younger, so I just started buying her jeans and t-shirts.  All the while thinking “this girl is just like me”; I’m far from prissy and jeans and t-shirts are my “go to” attire for almost any occasion.

Don’t get me wrong.  I was fully aware that my child had her own personality that was in some ways the complete opposite of mine.  But that’s not anything I didn’t expect as a mother.  In fact, since I”m the type of person to worry over things that could happen 10 years from now, I had gone over ever possible “difference” that could exist between me and my child.  I thought of how I would react if she started using drugs; I thought about how I would handle it if she wanted to drop out of school or not go to college;  I thought about how I would handle her being mentally ill or sick or a multitude of other potentialities that life may bring.  But I never thought that the little girl I cherished would tell me she felt like she was supposed to be a boy.