I wanted to pause for a beat to tell you all that I may skip publishing a time or two in the next couple of weeks, because Eldest and our grandson are coming to visit soon. For a whole week! This is the longest period of time they will have ever been here for. Eldest was furloughed from her job until at least the end of this month due to the slow down in business for her employer thanks to Covid-19.
Despite the fact that our grandson just started 1st grade a few weeks ago (in person) it seemed like the perfect moment to have the two of them come for a visit. This is going to be so much better than when they typically come to see us, in November or May, when the temps are not as pleasant as they are in the beautiful month of September.
So instead of finishing a publishing whatever the next post will be in my “Alphabet Soup Challenge” today, I’m going to give the house a good cleaning, dust off the old Fall/Halloween decor (and set up the new stuff I got yesterday) and decorate the house so it’s all comfy, cozy, and clean for my beloveds.
Please click on the link below to enjoy one of my favorite dancing tunes!
27 years ago, I gave birth to my second child. Hubs and I named “her” Marissa. A lovely name for a lively child.
Approximately 7 years ago, “Marissa”, who had by then come out as queer and non-binary (the queer part was easier to get my head around at first than the non-binary part) announced that they would now be referred to as “Rabbie”.
Say what?! I thought to myself. Why? What’s wrong with “Marissa”? It’s a damn beautiful name, right people?
I told Bonnie over the phone. She “misheard” me and said “Rabbit?” I laughed nervously and told her to think of it as a nickname. I reminded her that Rabbie was romantically attracted to both genders and this was one expression of that (though now I realize it’s much more nuanced). She responded by saying she was going to be praying that “Marissa” found herself a nice boy to fall in love with and marry someday.
My mom never did “get” it. I never held it against her however. Fact of the matter is, I wasn’t necessarily “getting it” back then either.
Hubs and I struggled with this for a good long while. I was offended that the kid was rejecting the name we lovingly chose for them. I felt anxious about how to explain it to others. So many times when talking about how our kids were doing to friends and acquaintances, I found myself referring to “Marissa” as “Rabbie” and got the most confused looks in exchange.
But time is an interesting thing. The more I referred to her them as “Rabbie” the more natural it seemed to come to me. The less I felt the need to explain it to myself or others. I even shortened it to “Rabs” when I was speaking to them directly.
I realized over time is that it’s not about me. It’s about the kid not feeling “girly” inside. It’s about them not embracing traditional Americanized gender roles. It’s about the kid expressing their true selves and asserting their independence. It’s about the kid asserting their right to be seen as who they really are, not someone who we as their parents and society at large thinks they should be.