The grades improved, but the going inward went deeper. In high school, Dave was popular, and kids were drawn to him. A handsome boy, and quite talented musically, he did have friends that shared his love of music, but the relationships with these kids seemed superficial at best. He would often turn down their offers to socialize on weekends, and instead choose to stay home, in his room, spending countless hours on the computer. As his peer group hit the usual milestones, and started things like dating, and driving, going out to movies, normal high school activities, Dave chose to not get involved. He was pursued by several girls through the years, I believe they were not only attracted to his physical self, but perhaps to the mystery that he was; he was not easy to connect with, not easy to read. He did not go to the proms, or to school sporting events.

As his mother, I tried with my very best effort to connect with him on some level, to figure out what was going on. I was worried because his level of engagement on a social level was so lacking and that he seemed so not able to enjoy life like the rest of the kids did. He did just what was required of him, and stayed out of trouble. He assured me repeatedly that he was ?just fine.? I knew in my gut that he was not, but for the life of me, I could not figure him out.

By the time of his high school graduation, he made straight A?s his senior year, and was accepted at a college not far from home. Because of his seemingly indifference toward working towards independence, I had some anxiety as to how he would fare living on his own at college. At that time, he still did not care to drive, and made little effort to take control of simple things like managing a bank account. But off to college he went. He seemed to settle in to college life, at least which is what we were led to believe. On school breaks and vacations, he would return home, and retreat into his isolative life, which consisted of his spending hours on his computer, playing his guitar and getting lost in movie rentals, movies that were comedic in nature or pure fantasy. He?d stay up until the wee hours of the morning, and sleep all day. Friends would stop over and try to engage him in activities, but he remained eager to stay home, alone. He worked at a few menial summer jobs, but it was without much passion and enthusiasm. I?d watch him walk down the street to go to work, and the sadness that he emitted was palpable. Again, I questioned him as to what I was missing, what was he holding onto? He became a master of convincing me that the problem was with me, that I worried too much, and was making something out of nothing. I tried to believe him, but my motherly instinct kept beating the drum of concern.

As his senior year approached, and he was not working toward putting together a solid plan for after graduation, like graduate school or job, I again wondered if my 21 year old son was going to be dependent on us forever. I took a lot of criticism from my family as to how I should not drive out to bring him home on school breaks, but instead let him find his own way home. My family tended to say that his lack of independence was something that I fostered, and perhaps on some level they are right. But it?s a mother?s motherly instinct to want to protect and defend the child who lacks something, the one who has the tougher time in life, be it a confidence or self esteem issue, learning or physical challenge, it does not matter. We want our kids to succeed and we will go out of our way to make it happen.

One morning, after he returned to school last September, I woke up with that all too familiar and all too uncomfortable lump of anxiety in my gut as my thoughts turned to David. The past 10 years seemed to be connected by a constant thread of hoping that whatever he was going through in his own head would turn out to be just a stage that he would resolve and grow out of. Since I and my husband had loved both of our children all through the years, wasn?t that enough? If you love your kids and teach them well, shouldn?t that ensure a positive outcome? I got out of bed and made a conscious decision to share this burden with someone else.

I often counsel my patients that when they are in a situation where they feel they have no control to actually write a letter to God, pour out the problem, and then ask God to take over. The letter is signed and sealed, and put in what I call ?The God Box.? So I followed my own advice. After pouring my heart out to God, I reminded Him that Dave was very much His child. And since I was at my wits end, I was delegating this to God. ?He?s your son too,? I wrote. ?You love him like you love all of us, so please take over, because I don?t know what else to do, and I trust that you will do just that, because you are God.? As I placed the letter in the box, I ?let go,? and decided to trust. When I re-read that letter now, I get goose bumps.

I found myself less preoccupied, trusting that God would somehow step up to the plate. I stopped trying to control what I could not control. I started feeling lighter, and actually felt hopeful that my son was going to have a great life, he just was a late bloomer. One night last fall, right before Halloween, I had an uncanny urge to look clearly at Dave?s bank account on line, as our accounts are linked. I never paid much attention to his account, because he spent very little, and his money would last most of the school year. But I noticed that his balance was going down faster than usual, so I drew in a deep breath and looked closely, again with that old anxiety wrapped around my heart. What was I afraid I?d see?

What I saw was several online purchases to pharmacies out of the country. That was it!! Now I knew!! He had a drug problem, and that explained it. I was determined to get to the bottom of this for once and for all. I dialed his cell phone, and he answered it, which was unusual, as I typically would have to leave a message. I demanded to know what he was buying online. I wanted the truth, no more deception; I needed to know what was going on. I took a deep breath and waited for his reply.

?Hormones, Mom, I?m buying hormones.? For a brief second I pictured his purchasing some type of steroid or muscle building product that enhance athletic performance,and felt a relief. That was it, he was going to the gym, and pumping iron. Kind of expensive, but OK, great! I attempted to verify this with him, and his reply was something that rocked my world. ?No mom, it?s not that. I am a transsexual.?