This week Loren put on his first dress.
It’s a canary yellow dress with a pair of pockets in the front...
This week Loren put on his first dress. It’s a canary yellow dress with a pair of pockets in the front, a cinched waistline, and a flowy hem that puffs up and out when he spins. It’s got short sleeves and falls just below his knees.
He asked for a yellow dress after seeing the little boy in one of his favorite books, My Shadow is Pink, wear one.
Loren is two years old. His world is innocence and joy (and temper tantrums and refusing to eat 99% of what we put on his plate), but you get the picture. He knows nothing of cross-dressing, what it means to be LGBTQIA+, or of the toxic gender norms that society wrongly constructs and amplifies.
It’s been four days since Loren’s dress arrived in the mail, which means it’s been four days of Loren asking to wear it, even when it’s being washed. Every day the yellow dress hangs in his closet by the rest of his clothing, and every day Loren exuberantly chooses the yellow dress.
We got him the dress for the same reason we buy him yellow things—it’s his favorite color and he’s interested in it. Loren’s also interested in scootering, trains, running, soccer, baby dolls, chocolate chip cookies, unicorns, and construction vehicles.
When Loren’s dress came in the mail, he couldn’t wait to unwrap it and put it on. He was beaming with joy, spinning around in circles without a care in the world, and he was happy. It was a beautiful moment, and yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about what someone might say if he were to wear his dress to daycare or to a family gathering, to the grocery store or to the public library where he will inevitably, at some point, be met with confusion, uncertainty, bullying, judgment, etc.
We live in a conservative Midwest town where Trump flags fly freely, derogatory “Joe and the Hoe Gotta Go” and “My Governor is an Idiot” signs are far too common, and I can count the number of residences displaying pride flags in their yards on one hand. This is not Portland, San Francisco, or any other stereotypically liberal town. There aren’t many little boys in dresses running around, at least that I’m aware of, and if there are then let’s be friends!
We live in a town that was founded by Missouri Synod Lutherans, a town that was founded on the beliefs that women can’t be pastors and that homosexuality is a sin that puts you on the fast track to hell, and yet, this church continues to claim that it is a welcoming space for everyone.
I often want to ask this church, Welcome to do what? To be what? When I feel truly welcome somewhere, I feel relaxed and at home. I feel celebrated, respected, and affirmed. Knowing this, would my son feel welcome in his yellow dress? Would we, as his parents? What about a trans person?
Sadly, we already know the answer to these questions.
We post pictures of the kids to a private social media account for trusted friends and family. It’s our version of a scrapbook, so when Loren radiated joy in his beautiful yellow dress, of course we took pictures and posted them.
Not surprisingly, most of our family members have been silent in response, refusing to tap that heart button like they do for the majority of his other photos. Thankfully, a few close friends have been wildly supportive.
This week I’ve been thinking of what I would say to the person who questions why we bought the yellow dress for Loren in the first place or continue to let him wear it.
I’d say, “Loren picked this dress out himself. Isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t he beautiful? Look, it even has pockets! Loren loves the color yellow.”
I would ask Loren how this dress makes him feel, to which he always responds, “Happy!” I would stand beside my boy and celebrate his choices, because it is my job (and my joy!) to affirm him and love him unconditionally.
We’ve tried to incorporate all colors of the rainbow into Loren’s wardrobe since he was born and, now that’s he’s able to make his own choices, we let him decide what he wants to wear. For about a year now, Loren’s favorite colors have been yellow and pink. We love that! We continue to teach Loren that all colors and articles of clothing are for boys and girls and gender nonconforming people alike.
Pink is for boys and girls and everyone. Yellow is for boys and girls and everyone. Pants are for boys and girls and everyone. Dresses are for boys and girls and everyone.
After all, we are talking about colors, people. Colors. And cotton. Pieces of cloth and cuts of fabric. Humans wearing clothing (no matter how it’s cut or colored) shouldn’t be a big deal, and yet, here we are.
We’re going to keep hanging Loren’s dresses (there’s also a green one with a hood and rainbow cuffs) in his closet with the rest of his clothes, and we’re going to continue letting him make his own clothing choices, unless, of course, he wants to wear sandals outside in a foot of snow. We’ve got to draw the line somewhere.
I’m gonna have to find the pics, haven’t come across them! I will definitely heart it when I do. I’m not certain what I would have worn if my parents had given me total freedom at Loren’s age, but probably: Superman underwear (either without pants or over my pants), matching t shirt, (they were sets called underroos) cowboy boots, an improvised cape of some sort & a Yankees hat. (That would be a pic to behold, although i’m certain I would come to regret having been photographed in a Yankees hat!
I loved how excited he was this morning at the library! Just joy and twirling… I wish I could pull off the color yellow like Loren!💛