Paranoia and what really matters

So we got through day one of school with only a little teasing. Four boys who were in Jess's class last school year were laughing on the playground. To be fair to them, it must have been a shock. I know at least two of the four to be good kids.

But I have been feeling a little paranoid. Let me tell you why. First, our neighbor who used to wave to me all the time no longer waves. Ok, whatever. Second, there are supposed to be sixteen people at our bus stop, but there were only two. My children. Is it because people know about us and don't want to be around us?

When I picked up Jess at the bus stop yesterday, I met our really nice neighbor who also has a first-grader (not in Jess's class). They were the first people to invite us to a party here, and they have been really nice. The mom asked me, "How was (male name's) first day?" I blurted out, "(Male name) is Jessica now. She's transgender. It's a medical condition." All of which is true, but when blurted is a lot to take in. My neighbor said, "Oh, well, um, we saw the dress." I said, "I'm happy to explain any of it," but then they walked on by. I was in the car. They were walking. It was cold and windy. So I'm thinking, great. We're now the neighborhood pariahs. Then I remembered. It's not about me.

I have a brave child, who spent her first day "out" to her classmates. At age six. I am awed by her courage and ashamed at my focus on little things and how they reflect upon me. I have decided that, rather than think of myself as the poor outcast in my own neighborhood -- I am going to choose to think of myself as the very proud mom of an extremely brave and articulate girl. I feel lucky and blessed that she is teaching me about acceptance and courage.