Last week was rather momentous in our house. The boy wore a dress to school for the first time. I had bought him several since our first disastrous skirt experience and they had been hanging up just waiting for their debut but I never asked him when he would wear them. It was okay if they were just there.
I was surprised one morning when he came downstairs wearing his new black dress with black leggings and chucks. He looked adorable. I had a small moment of jealously...I mean...not fair that my son looks better in a dress than I do. He added makeup and some jewelry and went off in to the world. I held my breath. He was walking in to a Middle School wearing a dress and I was terrified and proud.
Only a few hours in I got the panicked text to please bring pants. I was sad that it didn't go well for him. My mom took him pants and he and I were texting. He decided not to change and I told him how proud I was that he decided not to let a few simple minded people determine how he felt about himself. He had a similar talk with my mom who then brought the pants home.
Of course the next thing that happened was a call from the guidance counselor. She wanted to make sure I knew what he was wearing. Yeah. I bought him the dress and taught him how to get it on over his head. I applied his makeup. Guilty! But the conversation was actually a really good one. She wanted to let me know that the school was in full support of the boy being who he is. Yay! I really didn't want to have to fight that battle, not that I wasn't ready and willing.
The boy came home beaming. He told me he finally felt right. My heart glowed and sank a little at the same time. Sad to think that it has taken this long for him to feel right. Happy that he is finally coming in to himself.
Since that day he has worn a variety of dresses and pants, creating a style of his own and not giving the haters a moment of his time. He really is the best and bravest person I have ever known.