Tomboy, Baby X & The Princess Boy

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1.  My mother had a friend that she used to hang out with who’s youngest son would dress up in his older sisters clothing and play with her Barbies. When my mother tried to defend his eccentricities by saying, “leave that boy alone, playing with dolls will make him a better father!” His response? “Mmmm-mmm, no it wont, ’cause I’m not gonna be a daddy, I’m gonna be a mommy!” He was about five. We all  labeled him as gay. 2.  I went to school with a kid that was always in our (the girls) business. In middle school, Tommy (that’s what we will call him), knew the gossip before it began, and he could cackle with the best of us. He even had that whole Claire Huxtable-eye-squint-finger-pointing-neck-rolling-thing down to a science.  We all labeled him as gay.

3.  A few years ago, I went to work for a company and found one like-minded person in our orientation class. We became fast friends. She would rather wear baggy sweatpants, a ponytail, a sports jersey and a fitted cap, than diva gear any day.  She has always been a self-proclaimed tom-boy.

Number one is grown now trans-gendered. Number two grew out of his effeminate ways by the time we hit high school, as far as I know he is married, straight with children. And number three, she’s still my home-girl, never looked at a woman other than to admire her dress, and is totally heterosexual.

The point? Don’t judge a book by its cover, it’s not your job. Don’t let societal norms redefine spiritual norms for you–you have to answer for your lack of compassion, in the end, not society. Don’t label people, unless you have heard it from the horses mouth. Love and nurture people as they are, life will fill in the blanks and love will fix anything that’s broken–God is love, or do you believe that?

Introducing: The Princess Boy (Video)

The Story of Baby X: A Child’s Story Without Gender

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3 thoughts on “Tomboy, Baby X & The Princess Boy

  1. valerie johnson

    Dee, it was so hard for me to watch his father treat him different then the others. Just not paying him any mine at all. It would brake my heart to watch him stuggle to get his fathers attention so often and then have him completely ignore him would seriously piss me off. I once watched his father beat his tiny back end so hard..it bought tears to my eyes; because he grabbed for the doll that was off to the side, instead of a truck that was right there at his feet. Here this young child was being exactly what he was intended to be..being what his mine was leading him to be..being what he could not help but be and his father.. the man who should love him regardless.. was beating him into shame. It broke my heart to watch. I hated it.
    At four years old he knew what he was going to be when he grew up..he didn’t have a problem with it..so why the heck should we.
    God.. is.. love..

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