The Leotard

Not much in the way of clothing strikes fear in my heart anymore.  Except... swimsuits and leotards.  Shhh.  It is my secret.  Yeah, I still struggle with what to do if someone sees a bulge on my kid where they think it shouldn't be.  People who know us, know D is a boy, so it wouldn't matter to them.  People who don't know us, assume D is a girl and we leave it at that.  But what would they think if they assume he is a girl and their eyes wander south... and notice he is not?  I should remind myself of one of my favorite mantras by our beloved Dr. Seuss: "Those that matter, don't mind, and those that mind, don't matter."  I wish that was the case this time.  The problem with believing that is all it will take is one person to notice, whisper to the next, and we have a whole flurry of comments that may not be appropriately timed.  Don't get me wrong, I love to talk about gender diversity.  I love to explain to people how there are 4 parts to gender identity and that they are all independent.  I love when I am surprised with a parent saying "Wow.  My child is like that.  I just thought s/he was gay".  We all get so afraid of what others will think and we shut this stuff up inside us.  But it always escapes, no matter how hard we try.  Fear and hate are tricky like that.  They ooze out of us when we least expect it.  This time my fear oozed out.

We were shopping last week for a new outfit for Arial class.  I am thrilled that D has finally found a hobby he loves.  He hasn't tried anything organized since the t-ball debacle of 2009.  I knew t-ball was not the sport for him, but I think Daddy was still holding on to hope that he would be one of those "catch playing sons".  We are finally in a good place now, a new thrilling hobby, meeting new kids, and a supportive staff.  But oh dear, there is the wardrobe.  I think we did a pretty good job camouflaging the "package" with a swim skirt over a pair of leggings, but then, fear oozed out.  I started thinking people might wonder why he only had one outfit to wear to class, and started thinking parents may wonder if I ever wash it.  Ha!  That pesky fear.  We were at the store and happened to find a metallic silver and black leotard.  He loved it of course, so we bought it and a mini skirt with shorts attached.  Ooops.  I forgot to check the sizes.  The mini skirt is two sizes too small, so that one is out.  The leotard is stretchy, and you guessed it, too small.  Cue the horror music.  He still wants to wear it.  Too small.  Without the skirt.  I may need a fainting couch.  I gulped as he got dressed for class yesterday and pulled on his shiny new leotard.

I said "How about this over it, or the leggings over the leotard?" holding up a pair of shorts.
"No.  I like it like this." D replied.
Gulp.  My inner "Scrubs" dialogue played out as I sat there, speechless, hoping for an answer that wouldn't crush my child now, or at class.  I kept hearing the parents at the last gender support group talking about how it breaks their hearts to see their kids putting limits on themselves because of their bodies.  How they put limits on their kids because of their bodies.  I heard the regret and sadness in their voices and it echoed in my ears.

"No"  I told myself.  "Leave it alone.  Let him be who he is.  If someone says something, deal with it then.  Do not let your fear ooze out."  So we went to class.  No one commented.  I caught myself "checking" from across the room a few times to see how much the bulge was noticeable.  Then I told myself to let it go.  He was having fun.  Fear will not win today.