Like a boomerang, my two year old son would venture out into the world and then quickly return to hug my thigh, making certain I was still there. I was his anchor; the place he would come to feel safe as he explored new expanding boundaries.

At 16, more time passes between his returns to me. Individuation is both healthy and necessary and yet it can feel uncomfortable and a little bit scary. It’s exhilarating, and at the same time, I feel pangs of sadness in some moments.

My son was born Daniel Evan Carlson. If you visit his Facebook page today, you will see his profile is listed as Daniel Yuki Carlson. He is in transition; from adolescence to young adulthood, from male to gender free, and possibly, ultimately, to female.

Do we ever love anyone more than our children? We invest so very much in them: our heart and soul, hopes and dreams, countless hours – and lots of money.

Parenting has been a journey that has brought out my very best and my very worst. I’ve known no greater joy or sadness than I’ve lived through some of the twists and turns of being a parent.

I have felt vulnerable, proud, fulfilled, hurt, protective, sad, angry and even rageful. Very few things in life can trigger core emotional responses in me like my children can; I have discovered parts of me I never knew existed before giving birth.

I remember being in the ER the night Yuki attempted suicide and his 10 year old sister asking me if he was going to die. “I don’t know,” I answered, crying. We were very lucky that he survived the overdose of ambien he took that night. I felt so helpless as I watched the medical team work to flush out the drugs to save Yuki’s life, while Yuki fought to die, pulling out the IV and resisting treatment in whatever creative ways he could think of.

I completely understand why someone like Yuki would want to check out. The confusion and stress that accompanies adolescence is challenging enough. Add the gender identity questions and the intensity becomes unfathomable to most of us.

After 3 hospitalizations in less than 3 months, Yuki is living with Dad for awhile. His father and I offer Yuki different gifts. While Yuki and I are kindred spirits and have emotional and spiritual intimacy, Dad offers structure and consistency that simply isn’t part of my DNA. As in Maslow’s hierarchy, survival must come first.

So, for now, I must open my arms and let my child go as he navigates this bend in the journey of his life. I am trusting the boomerang principle will apply and he will return again, when the time is right and we are both ready. In the meantime, I am still here, loving him as much as ever. I am holding my place as that anchor, but now, with a much longer line. This requires a whole lot of trust on both of our parts.

The question I contemplate today is how might I bring out the very best in me as a parent while bringing out the very best in my child, through my parenting. Some moments I feel I am on course. In other moments I lose my way, getting caught up in how I wish things could be vs. honoring and navigating how they are actually unfolding.

Where in your life are you:

• Wanting/or needing to let go of someone or something in your life?
• Bringing out the best in you while bringing out the best in others?
• Wishing something was different vs. honoring what is?
• Navigating with grace and ease an unexpected twist or turn?

As always, I welcome your comments, insights and questions.

With Love and Light,
Toni