Just as You Are
by Amy Hutchisson ○ October 11, 2023 ○ 4 min read
CW: suicide
Jacob had just parted ways with his father-in-law. He was en route to meet his estranged brother, Esau, whose inheritance he had stolen some decades earlier. Messengers brought back word that Esau was already on his way, along with 400 men, who were presumably prepared to fight, should the need arise. Jacob sent more than 500 head of livestock to curry favor with his brother. After leading his family across a river, Jacob alone returned. Only, he wasn’t alone: he spent the remainder of his night at camp wrestling a divine being until dawn. When Jacob’s opponent could not overtake him, the being dislocated Jacob’s hip and asked to be let go. Insisting he wouldn’t give up without a blessing, Jacob accepted the name Israel, as a testament to his prevailing over adversaries both human and divine.¹
Another version of the story has a much-younger Jacob stopping for the night while on the run from Esau’s wrath, using a stone as a pillow, and dreaming of God’s protection and blessing. Upon arriving at his uncle’s place (or possibly returning after a second visit to build God an altar at the spot he'd had his dream), God himself gives Jacob the name Israel and announces his forthcoming participation in God’s blessing of Abraham as the father of nations, the ancestor of kings, and the one to whose family the land has already been granted and will continue to belong.²
Rereading these passages, I am struck by the absence of corroboration. In the first account, the narrator goes to great lengths to point out Jacob’s wrestling match and subsequent blessing occur at night, when he is otherwise alone. While the second depiction does not specify Jacob’s solitude, it also has no mention of any companions hearing God’s pronouncement of the new name. Everyone, it seems, simply accepts Jacob’s experience as holy. There is no indication anyone disbelieved, even though they would have had no direct evidence of the facts of the matter, only a secondhand account from Ja—I mean, Israel himself. Certainly as a young Christian, I never thought twice about whether or not God was really behind Jacob becoming Israel, Abram and Sarai changing into Abraham and Sarah, or Saul suddenly going by Paul. Although I had no proof it was real, despite the fact that I’d personally never seen or heard directly from God, I simply accepted that God himself had announced name changes to better fit the identities of these individuals.
Names have always held a special place in my heart. Origins, meanings, the way they sound rolling off the tongue, all add to the complex beauty of names. When it came time to choose appellations for my own children, I was ready. I owned three separate name-your-baby books filled with etymologies and distinguished historical examples. I refrained from choosing a name until my babies were born, because I wanted to know who they really were, not simply who I imagined them to be. Heading into the hospital, laboring with our oldest, I carried a folder with pages of names and derivations Adam and I had discussed over the previous nine months. We chose our name and we were pleased at how well it suited. As additional children came along, we followed similar processes to bestow the most fitting names on them all.
A decade and a half after we’d checked into that first labor and delivery unit, my oldest sent me a series of text messages.
Are you transphobic?
What would you say if I were trans?
Just curious.
After I offered assurances of love and gratitude that I would be honored with this information, I received another text, letting me know my child was trans and sharing a new name.
Over the following two years, all of my kids (both trans and cis) asked me to call them by different names from the ones we’d put so much effort into choosing at their births. One child cycled through five or six along the way. I can’t say I never felt disappointed that my children no longer found the names I gave them useful. I loved those names. Yet, I love my kids more. I love that they have desired to share with me who they know themselves to be. That is an honor, and I want the words I use for them to reflect that reality.
I won’t pretend it has always been easy. Some names and pronouns have been a definite struggle for me. I had real trouble using “it/its/itself” to refer to my kid, and I was incredibly relieved to see that label eventually dropped by the wayside. Even moreso, after a dozen or more years of calling a child one name, switching to another is a challenge my brain simply hasn’t always been up to. Even after more than two years, I will sometimes call out the wrong name or pronoun. It happens. Generally, my kids are really gracious with me, for which I am incredibly grateful. At the same time, I don’t want to minimize how important it is to use the names and pronouns they have asked me to use.
Perhaps you, or someone you know, doesn’t see the use of requested names or pronouns as necessary or worthwhile. Here's what I know. As a child myself, I often felt unseen, unrecognized, and unloved. On a deeply personal level, I have experienced the pain of believing I could never meet the expectations my parents and other adults in my life had of me, simply because that was not who I was, not what I wanted. I have zero desire to pass on this trauma to my kids or anyone else’s.
Secondly, and even more gravely, study³ after study⁴ after study⁵ has shown that social support (such as using the name and/or pronouns a trans person has asked for) unequivocally and significantly decreases symptoms of depression, thoughts of suicide, and suicide attempts. As someone with a history of depression, who has lost friends and family members to suicide and other causes, how could I possibly refuse to adopt simple practices that decrease the number of children who end their own lives?
If you are having suicidal thoughts, please reach out.
Within the US
National Suicide and Crisis Lifeline
☎️ 988
The Trevor Project (supporting LGBTQ+ youth)
☎️866-488-7386
💬Text "START" to 678678
Outside the US
Connect with crisis resources in your area
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¹ See Genesis 32
² See Genesis 35
Conversation for this post hosted at facebook.com/ShamelessHonesty
We got Tahoe the river otter plushie at the Aquarium of the Bay. Here he's donned souvenir rainbow shades as he takes a break from the San Francisco Pride Parade.