Trans Visibility - A Parent’s Journey
Yesterday, April 1st, 2025, was the International Day of Trans Visibility.
For us, every day is a day of trans visibility and has been for the past two and a half years. It hasn’t been an easy journey—there has been so much to learn along the way. But we’ve been fortunate in one crucial way: we talk to each other, constantly.
Many of the lessons I've learned seem obvious in hindsight, yet they were difficult to grasp in the moment. And I’m still learning.
So, what have I discovered?
It’s a process. Sorrow, anger, resentment, acceptance, harmony—they all have a role to play.
There’s a sense of loss for the future you once imagined for your child. You may find yourself crying for no apparent reason. Even now, I still have moments of sadness. And yet, I know my child is happier than they have been in a long time.
Grief looks different for everyone. You need to give each other permission and space to process emotions in your own way and on your own timeline.
You may wonder where you went wrong. Blame can creep in — blaming your partner, the internet for “influencing” your child, the school for not informing you sooner. These thoughts are normal, but they don’t change the reality of who your child is.
One day, things start to click. You realize your child is becoming the person they were always meant to be — not the version you once envisioned, but their own, true self. As parents, we dream of the life we want for our children, but ultimately, they must live their own lives — regardless of gender or sexual orientation.
Communication is key.
We’ve spent countless hours talking — about gender, disability, visibility, special needs, politics, religion, history, school, TikTok reels, favourite shows… everything. We don’t always agree, and that’s okay. In fact, some of our best conversations happen when my son and husband debate because they’re both convinced they’re right (and sometimes they both are!).
And then there are the emotional conversations — the ones that don’t happen at the dinner table (though family dinners several times a week are a priority for us), but one-on-one, in quiet moments. The siblings talk. If I need to know something, one of them will tell me. The parents talk. If the kids need to know something, one of us shares it. Constant communication keeps us connected.
There is no set timeline, and this journey is not a straight path. But over time, sadness fades as acceptance grows. And with acceptance comes harmony — a sense of safety where everyone is free to be themselves.
Are you struggling to break through the grief of watching your child change in ways you didn’t expect?
Seeking support is a powerful step. While many organizations focus on the person coming out, my focus is on parents—individuals and couples — who feel stuck, unable to move forward, caught in sorrow, anger, or resentment, with no one to talk to who truly understands.
I share my story so you can see: there is light at the end of the tunnel. With effort, support, and open communication, you can rebuild and maintain a loving relationship with your child — and hopefully, with your partner too.