Dead names and pronouns is the hardest one. I currently spend less time with my mum (and I love her so much) because she speaks before she thinks and is constantly saying ‘son’, ‘him’, ‘he’ and my dead name. It’s such an easy mistake but it still cuts you.
I'm sorry you're experiencing that and that it is having an isolating effect. I can understand needing distance from triggering scenarios even when the best of intentions is present. Is she trying? Does she just need practice?
I'll tell you something. I grew up an only, my mother's only offspring. My father had at least one son with another woman, and adopted one of her other sons. My brother is the youngest of his mother's TEN offspring. One of those is trans.
All of the family love her the same, but most are not truly understanding or accepting. None of them want to hurt her. They just are ignorant, and I can tell the ignorance hurts.
I had a hard time remembering her new name at first. And when I met her after the transition, I had no idea who she was, and she was forced to use her deadname with me a few times over the phone. I feel awful about that. The good news is unless someone else carelessly uses that old name, I can't remember it now. For me, the name really has died. I didn't expect that. It never happened with any of my friends.
One of my acquaintances (ex-husband of one of my besties) is a trans man. I had originally met a woman, I thought, and was introduced with a woman's name. The next time I saw them, I was given a new name, but not told why. I mean, it should have clicked, but it did not. I was not told to use masculine pronouns. I was simply given a man's name, and asked to use it.
For the next two years I fucked that and the pronouns up every. Single. Gattdamned time. I had no idea how insensitive this seemed. I just thought they pulled a make-believe name out of thin air, made no moves to have it legally changed, so why do I keep getting yelled at? Why is this such a big deal? Why so dramatic? It wasn't until he came home one day excited to tell his girlfriend that he had "passed" for the first time in his life that I understood.
Suddenly I understood. This is not a woman using an androgenous name. This person is trans. Duh. I look back and have to laugh at myself for my density. I still fucked it up a lot over the next year, especially pronouns. But once I understood context, at least I knew which pronouns I was supposed to be using. Nobody had told me.
I drove an Uber for a while. A trans passenger going to a VERY exclusive address seemed extremely distraught. I had picked her up in a spot close to the beach that gets sketchy after dark, so I was concerned she had been assaulted. I pressed gently about how her day was going. I have one of those faces or something. Strangers always open up to me. She eventually shared that she was visiting her parents for a whole month, and that she had not seen them in 11 years, but they were leaning in at last, and she was trying to be patient with them and not take every trigger so deeply.
I encouraged her to vent and cry. Told her I would take her some place where she could stop to wash her face if she didn't want to be seen that way at home. She did cry, but just needed to clean up a bit with some baby wipes and borrow my moisturizer. About a quarter mile down her parents' driveway, before you could see the main house appear amid the trees, she asked me to stop the car for a sec, and asked for a hug. I complied, and she seemed to use the hug to transfer all of her anxious energy to me. I am accustomed to this. Happens a lot. Of course, this means I have to channel it myself, but I don't mind. Once she was calm, the moonlight filtering onto her face from the trees gave her the appearance of a wise, battle-tested angel. I took her to the house, waited for her to flicker the porch light as I had requested, and went back to the beach.
I cannot tell anyone how to process their own experiences, but I told her what I feel from my side of my relationships with trans folks. I will always lean in. I will also fuck it up. I will keep trying. My heart breaks when I am just another source of pain because I want to be a part of the peace in the lives I allow to touch mine. I do not feel entitled to patience, but I do need patience. I will get to the point where I am treating someone how they want me to. I will, or I will die still trying.
I told her her parents are just people, and to try to remember, even when it hurts, that the leaning in is the act of love, getting it right is a matter of practice. Please do not allow the pain to make you perceive the mistakes as a negation of the love, as long as genuine good intentions, intentions that align with your needs and desires, are present. Intention matters.
Please don't think I want to tell anyone how to think or feel. I'm just sharing what I experience from my end of similar situations.