I Suck at Pronouns

By Renee Masterson-Carr

I Suck at Pronouns is an account of the journey of a mother of an adolescent tomboy, who threw a monkey wrench in every parenting book. An adorable little girl who grew into a handsome transgender boy on the cusp of physical transition, her son had raised the bar.

The ups and downs, the trials and errors that every mom’s faces are amplified when the moments that are considered normal are anything but ordinary. No one ever said parenting was easy, well, maybe they did, but that author did not have a transgender son. Life in a small town is usually no more complicated today than it was thirty years ago—different, yes, but not really problematic as long as you know where to change. But this is no typical life.

The bullying, the questioning, the depression, and anxiety are part of everyday life for a kid growing up in the wrong body. But one thing is for certain. If you have the support and love of your family and friends, you can overcome any obstacle thrown in your way!

Dropped into the realm of a transgender lifestyle, a mother navigates her way around friendships, family, therapists, and pronouns. Maneuvering through a world she originally knew nothing about while supporting her child every step of the way, the author displays her worry as to the best way to approach this new terrain. Did she know what she was doing? Probably not. Did she screw up? Maybe. Did she do her best? I’d say so. Does she love her child unconditionally? Absolutely!

Possibly call this a self-help book in the hopes that it may help the average Joe/Josephine who just wants to know where to begin or would like to be more educated on the subject or at least know that they’re not alone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781662413940

Book preview

Chapter 1

In the Beginning

Okay, I’ll admit it, I did always want a boy. I was always a tomboy myself and honestly wouldn’t have known exactly what to do with a girly girl. However, you just want a healthy baby! Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter, as long as it’s healthy.

So at thirty-three, I was told that I was having a girl. And to make a long story short, after the doctors told me that she most likely had downs syndrome and would probably be a dwarf, I panicked a bit. Okay, I panicked a lot, and I cried a lot. But after the third month, they simply said, Oh no, she’s fine. We had the wrong date. My bad. (Insert eye roll here.)

Six months later, I had a perfect baby with nines across the board—a perfectly developing baby that grew into a perfectly destructive toddler. I slept very little, as did the child. I probably had a bit of postpartum depression, but I figure the sleep-deprived often do. I very often didn’t want to leave this little munchkin so that I could take care of myself, and that may have been wrong, but who knows. I only wanted to leave her with her father, and he was busy starting up his own company and had very little time for anything other than that. No, I’m not blaming him. I’m just trying to show you my mindset at the time. I’d love to say that there is no book on parenting, but let’s face it, there are hundreds. Of course, they all contradict each other, so you’re back to square one.

Just a little more background here—after her second birthday, her father and I started to have marital issues. There might have been signs previous to that, but I was busy with a little one and never saw them. It ended in divorce. Of course, it was hard at first, but we never let her see any arguing. She was nary aware that there were any issues at all, Luckily, he was and is a very busy executive, so his change of residence barely went noticed at that young age. Soon enough, he had remarried, and our little one then had three loving parents. Not long after, I fell in love, and she then had four loving parents. And yes, the boy still does have four loving parents.

Chapter 2

Don’t Judge

Now before you judge me as one of those moms who pushed their child to be a certain gender, I am not. She wore pink and tutus, had eight million stuffed animals, played dress-up, and played with Barbie just as much as playing in sports and with dinosaurs, Star Wars, as well as the many trips to the space museum. I never played a gender card simply because I never had the gender card placed on me.

As a child, I wore pretty dresses. I made mud pies, played sports, played with Barbie, crashed my bicycle, and swam circles around the boys. I like to think I’m perfectly normal, but…well, you know, what exactly is normal? I’m a female carpenter. I played football and boxed. I’m the size of an average NFL running back, but damn if I can’t rock an evening gown and a pair of stilettos! I will also admit that I had conversations with friends, at which time I stated that I would be perfectly okay if she turned out to be a lesbian because then I wouldn’t have to worry about teen pregnancy (yeah, well, I am a Gilmore Girl fan after all). This was half joking and half eh, not a bad idea. And yes, being a lesbian isn’t exactly an easy life either, even in the early twenty-first century, but I certainly didn’t have a problem with it, should that be her lifestyle. In lieu of all that, I just never saw any of the transgender signs that the professionals speak of. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and I don’t think any teachers picked up on it