June 28, 2016
There are a lot of articles, brochures, and whatnot about how to help your friend who is transitioning. Like this one: http://www.upworthy.com/5-ways-to-support-your-trans-friends-when-they-come-out
But there is much less about caring for the partner of a transitioning person.
This advice is based on my experience.
Your mileage may vary.
1. Bring a casserole
You know how when someone has a baby, their friend sets up a “meal train” to bring them casseroles and soups and meatballs and such?
And not-so ironically, a similar type of family-and-friends meal delivery occurs when someone experiences the death of a spouse?
Well…
Having a husband transition to womanhood is like giving birth and experiencing a death.
So, please bring two casseroles.
Actually, it’s a little like giving birth to a teenager. (What with all the hormones, the gazing in the mirror, the clothes obsession, the voice change, the coming into one’s selfhood.)
Three casseroles.
2. Call/Email/Text*
*repeatedly, and without expectation of response
The partner of the transitioning person is often weirdly invisible.
Even the times when I was standing there when my husband (soon to be wife) delivered the news, s/he got all the congratulations and such; I did not even get eye contact.
Generally, I was not present when my partner was coming out to people about his/her transitioning. In this second scenario, what was notable was the ensuing lack of communication with me. Even from mutual close friends and some family members.
People were not reaching out to me.
So, I asked my partner to let folks know at the end of those coming-out conversations that it would be nice, if they felt like it, to check in with me.
I’m guessing they had not been doing so because they weren’t sure what to say.
I mean, it’s a big thing.
There aren’t greeting cards for this. Yet.
You don’t know what to say to your transitioning friend’s partner, who is also your friend. You don’t know if they are happy or sad about this. You can’t wrap your head around how big transition is for that person.
That’s an uncomfortable feeling. You are at a loss for words.
Now imagine that feeling, multiplied by 1000. That’s roughly what the partner of the transperson is going through.
You have now entered empathy mode. This is great!
From this place, call, email, and text. Say what is true for you. Something like: “I don’t know what to say. This is so big. I love you. I’m here for you.”
Now… don’t expect a response.
This is also not unlike the first year after a death, or the first year of parenthood.
Just set a reminder in your calendar to periodically check on the partner-person again.
Offer walks, tea, tickets to a show, etc. Each time, offer like it’s the first time. Do not remind them that they haven’t responded. They know. Just love them, and keep offering.
And keep the casseroles coming.
3. Keep your curiosity to yourself: a.k.a. Don’t ask ANY questions.
There are quite possibly no good questions in this situation.
This is weird, right?
I mean, you see your friend wearing a cast on their leg and you want to ask, you practically HAVE to ask: What happened to your leg?
You mean it with love. And you are curious.
Here’s the thing. When you want to ask the partner of the transgender person all of your questions, can you pause and ask yourself — Why do I want to know this? Is this about them, or is it MY curiosity? What assumptions am I making?
Does it help this person, who is going through a death and a birth at the same time, to answer my question?
My favorite moments in this coming out process (because it is my coming out too), have been with the people who looked at me, eyes wide with love and compassion, offered a hug, and didn’t say anything. At all.
The questions that I get asked over and over that I dislike answering the most are:
Is he going to have the surgery? (This is an awfully personal question. And it’s not my genitalia you are asking about.)
Are you going to stay together? (Also very personal. Answering this involves an entire download of our situation and even if I give you all the gory details of our sex life past and present, our individual desires, our hopes and dreams, transition is a long process. The person you are asking may or may not have this answer readily available at the time you ask it.)
Have you told your child? How is he taking it? (This question always feels terribly uncomfortable. I wonder if it’s even about me or my family, on one hand, and on the other, it immediately puts me in touch with the terror of harming my child, in a situation that I cannot prevent, and that, for the moment, is still unfolding.)
The partner of a person who is transitioning might want to talk about their situation and they might not.
You could ask inviting questions that are open ended, like, “Do you want to talk about it?” and “How are you?” and “May I ask you questions?” or “Would it help you to talk about it if I asked questions?”
4. Avoid pop-culture references (or saying anything about this person you know who has or had a trans partner)
Do not, simply do not mention Bruce/Caitlyn, Orange is the New Black, The Danish Girl, Transparent, or any other book or movie about transgender people and experiences, or this friend whose partner transitioned.
I think that people want to relate in some way.
But the stories about that celebrity, show, or friend, feel like the person is trying to connect their experience to my situation.
Which is great. Because, empathy, right?
However, at that point, we are no longer talking about my situation. We are talking about your friend, someone else’s life, pop-culture, fiction, art.
And right now, what I really need is for you to focus on me.
Which leads me to…
5. Do not ask them if they are getting support. (Ask them what they need instead.)
People always ask me that question. “Are you getting support?”
I find that question odd.
Of course, a person going through a death and a birth at the same time could use support. I am pretty sure however that you asking them if they are getting it is not helpful.
Just BE the support.
Ask: What do you need? Is there something I can do? — these might be better questions.
And for some people, these are hard questions to answer. So, if you feel moved, simply offer, and then do.
They probably have enough casseroles at this point.
A salad?
Maybe chocolate, or tea, or whatever their beverage of choice, or more texts and calls; or help with doing the dishes and weeding the garden, or whisking them away for the weekend to the beach, or providing a day or night of childcare…
* * *
If you are one of the friends who asked me all of the questions, offered me the name of your friend who has a transitioning partner, offered me the name of this therapist you know, THANK YOU. Even though I felt all the things I mention above, I also felt your love in all of that. You helped me. Immensely. I appreciated your attention. I did email that person, I did contact that therapist.
So my advice is a little contradictory.
Ultimately it’s up to me to take what I want from the ways people offer support, and to answer questions, or decline to answer.
What I wanted to share is how the ways people seem to typically respond in situations like this might be handled with more presence and awareness.
I hope that my perspective is helpful to others.
To summarize…
Do:
Offer support.
Offer hugs.
Ask if the person wants to talk about their situation, before asking specific questions.
Ask before offering advice or resources or connections.
Check on the person periodically over time.
And be patient with us. This is big. We are transitioning, too.
Julie Feinstein Adams is a coach, writer, editor, photographer, performance artist, and mother — based in Alameda, California.
Are you going through a transition or a transformation, or think you might be heading for one? Contact her to find out about how coaching might help.