My Son
When my little girl came to me one day and said she didnāt like her long hair, I asked her why. She answered that it made her feel odd and she wanted to look more like my friendās son. We went to get it cut, and the smile on my childās face made my day.
It surprised me when a few years later, my little girl told me I had a son, and heād been there in my arms all this time. He was nervous to let me know that the name Iād given him didnāt suit him anymore. This is what I said (minus the rambling and reassurances);
Names are like sweaters. For some, they are one-size-fits-all. As they grow, so does their sweater. It fits them all their lives. For others, the sweater fits when theyāre given it. However, when they grow, the sweater stays small. Itās itchy and uncomfortable, so what kind of mom would I be if I didnāt take him to get a new sweater?
While Iām learning every day what being transgender means to my son and the world around him, I make an effort. And really, thatās all a parent can do.
