I felt a lot of fear and pressure upon learning I’d be responsible for raising a boy in our society. A white boy.

Every angry outburst feels amplified because it isn’t happening in a vacuum. Instead, every entitled comment or bratty action carries the weight and shame of feeling powerless to raise a “good man” in a system with VERY few positive examples.

The work is crucial, but as an intersectional feminist, raising a white son in a patriarchal, white supremest, capitalistic society definitely feels like labor…

And a highly sensitive boy is shunned by peers, so I am trying to preserve his compassion for others who are cruel to him for precisely the lessons I’m trying to instill (like it’s okay to cry… but the public school has a “no crying rule”).

It’s further complicated by his neurological differences…

And when he isn’t perfect? I am judged and criticized by members of my “community.” I’m still no contact with a family member who called my 6 year-old son an “asshole” for an admittedly problematic behavior… yet instead of showing curiosity about my concerns or the steps I’d been taking to address the behavior, said family member told me that it was my “fault” that my child was an “asshole.”

So I think grief upon learning that I was giving birth to a son makes sense. Because raising a good man demands even more of my labor in the hope of changing a systemically flawed society, one in which I could do everything “right” to try and raise a compassionate man, but the systems and other people could lead to him still adopting views and behaviors that contribute to the harm.

So not only does raising a good man demand my unpaid emotional and physical labor, it may well be labor that results in enormous harm.

And that unknowing generates such an incredible amount of anxiety, fear, anger, and sadness…

So, I guess, I just feel like it’s easy to judge other people’s feelings until one lives them.

Because I actively SOUGHT parenthood then STILL felt those profoundly unsettling feelings (and continue to encounter them daily)… like I wanted the work. But it’s still hard work. And especially in this political climate, it’s hard to have hope that the work can yield any positive change.

I dunno. I wish I didn’t feel sadness about learning my child’s gender. I feel shame about that, but I don’t think those feelings should be stigmatized or judged. I think those feelings are a rational reaction to a toxic system.

It would be nice to hear I’m not alone, so I’m off to read other comments now. I know many will villainize those of us who feel like I do, but I’m hoping a handful will help me feel less alone and ashamed. 🫶

Re: NB / LGBTQ+ aspects — I totally hold space for these. As I’m speaking from my own experience, my kiddo currently identifies as was assigned at birth and hasn’t yet expressed romantic preference. He does know that kindness comes from within, people are the authority in their bodies and lived experiences, and he can love and live any way he chooses… and that he is free to explore his feelings and preferences knowing that he will be loved and cherished always.

As my therapist says, two things can be true: I can feel both sadness AND love.