Chapter One. He Loves Pretty Things.
Why Am I So Afraid of My Son’s Tutu?
When I think about some of my memories from when Daniel was a child, the little green truck comes to mind. He got it as a gift for his first or second birthday, and for some reason I wanted so much for him to love it and be excited about playing with it.
My friends’ little boys were mesmerized by dump trucks, fire engines, construction sites, and looking out the window at excavation equipment. But my little boy was drawn to different things. Daniel loved wearing his older sister Leah’s pink tutu over his green or blue footie pajamas and would light up when I wore a pretty dress.
At an early age my gentle, cuddly, tender boy was already showing a preference for things that were beautiful, sweet, and soft more than anything tough, loud and powerful.
Another memory that comes to mind is of a Sunday morning when Daniel was three years old.
At the time, we were living in a discipleship home that we had opened for teenage boys coming out of juvenile jails. We had our own private living space, but our family shared mealtimes with “the guys”.
On that particular Sunday, I was coming down the stairs into the kitchen, where Daniel was sitting at the table. When he saw me, he immediately exclaimed “Mommy has a beautiful dress!” He ran to me and tenderly felt my legs with the soft panty hose and looked up at me with the biggest smile. A couple of the guys were in the kitchen at the time, and I remember feeling self-conscious and a little embarrassed and anxious because my adorable little boy was not displaying “normal” boy behavior.
I didn’t consider myself to be one of those parents who was uptight about boys only wearing blue and playing with “boy toys” (though I really wanted Daniel to love that little green truck) and girls only wearing pink and playing with “girl toys”. So, when the kids and I were in our private family space, I felt comfortable letting them be themselves and play the way they wanted to play. I allowed Daniel to play with Leah’s dolls. I allowed him to wear her tutu.
Until someone walked in or a visitor stopped by, that is. Then he was not allowed to wear the tutu.
“I Want to Make Wedding Dresses When I Grow Up”
There was not a lot of peace and quiet in our home when the kids were little.
Scott and I had opened a discipleship home for teenage boys coming out of juvenile jails before our kids were born. We didn’t think we were able to have children of our own, so these boys were family to us. We felt strongly that what youth coming out of lock-up needed most was a family setting with a sense of belonging and a deep experience of the love of God.
Four years into our time there I got pregnant with Leah and, fifteen months later, with Daniel.
It became a very full household, always with a lot of activity. So the moments of quiet time alone with the kids were special. Leah, Daniel and I would often enjoy cozy mornings together before joining everyone downstairs. They would climb into bed with me and we would watch Sesame Street or some other show they liked. I really loved this time with just the two of them. There was something about sitting together that created a safe place to talk about most anything.
As I recall these mornings, there’s one that sticks out to me vividly. Leah was 4 at the time, and Daniel was 3. We were watching a piece on Sesame Street about all the things a child can become when they grow up. It made me curious to know what the kids were thinking.
“What do you think you want to be when you grow up?”
Without hesitation, Daniel responded, “I want to make wedding dresses!”
What?? Where in the world did that idea come from? I didn’t ask, but…seriously? What 3-year-old boy aspires to make wedding dresses? I couldn’t for the life of me think how he would even have come up with that idea. I was certain – or definitely hoping – this was just a crazy fleeting thought that had no significance. This was not MY hope and dream for my little boy. And though Scott and I would regularly share the cute things the kids would say to us with each other, I definitely wasn’t going to share this conversation with him.
I remember it as if it was yesterday.
Funny, I can’t even remember what Leah said.
“Sometimes I Feel Like You Don’t Like Who I Am”
The four of us were driving back from New Hampshire where Scott had been the speaker at a winter retreat for youth.
Scott frequently traveled for speaking engagements and sometimes the kids and I would go with him as a little family getaway. We all liked to go on these weekend retreats. We would stay together in the speaker’s apartment. There was usually lots of candy and other fun snacks and an indoor swimming pool, which were all big hits with the kids. They also enjoyed the attention they would get from the teens.
Daniel and Leah were sitting in the back seat, with Daniel sitting directly behind me. He was four years old. Out of the blue he blurted out, “Sometimes I feel like you don’t like who I am.”
My body instantly reacted to that comment. My chest felt tight, my heart was beating faster. These words could not be coming from my child!
“What?? Oh honey, how could you ever think that? Of course we like you. We love you! We love you so much, exactly who you are!”
Well, that put an end to that conversation. Maybe he realized what he felt was wrong? That was certainly my hope.
Looking back, I wonder what kept me from exploring with him what was behind a comment like that. In my mind I had done such a good job communicating love and acceptance, so acknowledging that this is not what he was receiving from me was unthinkable. I could not afford to be wrong about that. Sometimes it's just easier to leave things alone. Fear kept me from digging in a bit more.
I logged Daniel’s comment in my memory and never forgot it. Why? Because it wasn’t just an insignificant comment from my 4-year-old boy. He had expressed that he felt there was something unlovable about him. Even by his parents.
Though both Scott and I heard Daniel’s words during that car ride back from New Hampshire loud and clear, we never once talked about them.
Prayer Requests
We had a nightly tradition with the kids. Scott would go into each of their rooms and tell them a story about his childhood and growing up. He had a way of making these stories interesting and funny for the kids. With a little bit of truth mixed in. Leah and Daniel loved them. I would then go in and pray with them before they would go to sleep.
It was the night before school started. Leah was going into first grade and Daniel was starting kindergarten. This was a big night, anticipating a big day. So, I asked each of them. “What would you like prayer for, for school tomorrow?”
Leah: “That I will get all my math right.”
Daniel: “Pray that I can stand up to the bullies.”
I prayed with them, and then left Daniel’s room with a heavy heart. He didn’t know any of the kids who would be in his kindergarten class, so why was he anticipating bullies?
I found myself wishing that Daniel didn’t always look on the dark side of things. The first day of kindergarten was supposed to be such an exciting and happy day. Of course it is natural to be a little nervous about the newness of it all, but worried about bullies? Where was this coming from?
I was afraid to acknowledge my son’s fears. I decided they must be unfounded and therefore not valid. I decided I would need to help Daniel look at life through a brighter lens. I didn’t ask him where the dread was coming from. Instead, I tried my hardest to add excitement and joy to the mix as he got on the school bus the following morning.
Quincy Market
Scott and I never shared our fears about Daniel with each other until one December when he was in elementary school.
One of my very favorite things is to go to Boston in December and enjoy all of the festive lights and decorations and special treats. What is more magical than a cold, December afternoon all lit up, with Christmas music playing in the streets? I get so happy just thinking about it. I also get very sentimental and excited about traditions.
So, when we went to Boston that year my expectations for lots of feel-good moments were high. In addition to soaking up the overall Christmas spirit, we did a little shopping. At Quincy Market there were so many fun stores, like The Disney Store, toy stores, great clothing shops for kids, and so much more.
After walking through a few of the stores, Scott suddenly got in a really bad mood. The kind where you feel like you’re dragging dead weight around. The kind where he was making sure it was noticed that he was not having a good time.
Wow! I couldn’t believe he was going to ruin this special day with his bad attitude!
Seriously…you couldn’t at least pretend to be having a good time for the sake of your family? I responded to him with frustration and irritation. What could have been such a nice cozy family day for us in Boston became a day of tension between us and a disappointing outing. I was so mad.
As we were getting ready for bed that night, after several hours of silent treatment from me (my punishment of choice), I asked Scott, “What was wrong with you today?”
Scott shared how he had gotten increasingly uptight as he was observing Daniel in each of the stores. He could see that Daniel was only drawn to the glittery “girl” things, resisting his proddings to come look at the “boy” toys. And that had robbed him of his festive mood.
I had often shamed Scott for allowing his fears to leak onto the rest of us, but that night felt like an honest moment between us. I, of course, had noticed the same thing in the stores, but my way of coping was to ignore it and pretend it wasn’t really happening. And rest in the assurance that Daniel wouldn’t always be this way.
It was the first time the two of us expressed our fears out loud.
What if Daniel turns out to be gay?
Somehow I believed if I just refrained from saying it out loud it wouldn’t be real. I couldn’t afford to give that thought life. I couldn’t bear the thought of Daniel possibly being gay, and somehow I felt at a loss to do anything about it other than just really hope and pray that it wouldn’t happen.
It was hard for me to sleep that night.
I now wonder what feelings Daniel went to bed with that night? Had he felt the disapproval and tension? I had been so focused on my own thoughts and fears that his thoughts and fears never crossed my mind.
Conversations with a Good Neighbor
Kathy was the only friend I felt safe to share my fears with because she hadn’t grown up in the church. Looking back, I’m sure I could have shared with others but knowing how I, myself, was responding, it was safest to unload on someone who didn’t have the church upbringing.
Kathy loved Jesus and yet she had so much room for people and things that didn’t fit in the church boxes. She also had a gay brother who she had no trouble at all loving and embracing.
Daniel and I both loved going to Kathy’s house. Walking into her home was an experience of warmth, beauty and creativity which Daniel and I both put such a great value on. It was a place where Daniel got to dress up and dance like a fairy with Kathy’s little girl. There was no limit to creative expression at their house and Daniel was in his glory.
Never once did Kathy shame me for having my fears about Daniel maybe ending up being gay. Nor did she lecture me about embracing all people. She just pointed out that, “It seems like you are responding to Daniel today, out of a fear of what could come down the road. Why not just respond to who Daniel is right now?”
Kathy helped me explore the effect my fears were having on how I was responding to Daniel. And to notice when they were leaking in a way that caused angst and tension for both of us.
Was Daniel noticing my uptightness about things and disapproval of what I thought could be too “girly” behaviors? How was that affecting him?
She also reminded me that what Daniel needed most from me was to love, adore and celebrate all of who he was.
This was a defining moment for me. It was the first time I could acknowledge how my fears and anxieties about how Daniel would “turn out” was affecting my relationship with him right now.
To acknowledge and notice is a big first step. I wish I could say from that day on I refused to live and respond out of fear.
My fears were real. I couldn't imagine a future where our ministry family could have a gay son. I couldn’t imagine how friends and family would respond to us if Daniel was gay. How would this affect my faith and relationship with God?
Maybe I was afraid because I COULD imagine that future. And it looked way too hard for me to handle.
So how do I stay in today? And not project my future imagination onto who is right in front of me now? Does the Scripture, “Don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow has enough worries of its own,” apply here? Hmm.
