When My Daughter Came Out As Trans, I Parented Her As I Always Have — Imperfectly, With Love

There is so much in the media these days about families raising transgender kids. Much of it comes from a place of hate, discrimination, and misinformation. But even when the subject of raising transgender kids is more positive, it’s rare that you hear real stories from real people. What is life for trans kids and their families really like?

I understand why these stories aren’t always out there — transgender lives are being targeted in so many harmful ways, and it makes sense to want to be private and protective. Transgender kids and their families don’t owe the world anything, including their stories.

But recently I came across a trailer for Adam’s Apple, a new documentary about raising a transgender child. It’s the portrait of a trans teen and his mom as they navigate Adam’s transition, his parents’ own emotional transitions, and the growth and blossoming of a young man into adolescence.

I got choked up watching it — not just because I too am raising a beautiful transgender young person, but because the footage felt so real. Adam and his family’s home looks cozy and lived-in; his lopsided birthday cakes look homemade. He seems like a real kid living a normal life, whose family just happens to be managing things like coming out, gender transitions, all the complicated feelings that go along with that.

Deciding to Share My Story

I’ve been a parenting writer for over a decade, but I haven’t shared much about raising my trans daughter. Some of it is out of protection for her, and some of it is because her story is for her to tell, not me. But watching this trailer, and also just generally thinking about being the parent of a transgender young person, I realize that I do have a story to tell — the story of what it’s been like to parent my trans daughter over the past few years.

Before my daughter came out as trans, I used to write parenting articles about being an imperfect parent. I’d write about the fact that none of us really know what we’re doing — that it’s normal to feel like you’re just kind of winging it.

I remember the fuzzy haze of when my daughter was a newborn, wondering if it was normal that she wanted to nurse again, and then kind of just doing what made sense to me, which was to nurse her every 20 minutes if she wanted it, and then continuing to nurse her as much as she wanted for many months. Was I setting her up for bad habits? Was she ever going to wean at this rate?

When my daughter became a toddler and would only eat about five different foods, most of them white or beige, I had to figure out whether I wanted to push her more strongly to try other foods, or just feed her what she wanted and hope everything worked out in the end. I let her (mostly) eat what she wanted to eat then, tried to coax her into eating veggies when I could — and watched her palate expand slowly, but still with many restrictions, over the years.

My motto in those early days was that, no, I didn’t always know what I was doing — and yes, I might make some mistakes along the way — but I was always going to follow my heart and lead with love. I was an imperfect parent, like pretty much all of us are, but I was going to really try to understand who my daughter was and what she needed and go with that.

When My Daughter Came Out to Me

Though I didn’t know it yet, the biggest parenting challenge I would face was not my daughter’s constant nursing or picky eating, but having to navigate my own feelings about her coming out. This isn’t to say that my daughter saying she was trans elicited negative feelings, but the feelings were unexpected and intense. Plus, unlike the other parenting situations I’d faced, there was no one in my life who had been through something similar.

There was no guidebook. I was going to have to figure this one out alone. I was going to make mistakes. But I was going to be guided by love.

That’s what I told myself when I sat there on the side of my daughter’s bed as she poured her heart out to me at the age of 15. She’d told my husband and me she was trans a few months prior, but hadn’t really wanted to elaborate. I honestly didn’t think much of it at the time. I thought she was simply exploring her feelings about her gender more than anything, like so many kids her age were.

But now, on this warm spring evening, she was telling me that this was a real thing, and I could tell that the reality of having to come out to the rest of the world and transition was weighing heavily on her. My daughter also told me something that was hard to hear. She said that when she’d come out to us that first time, the look of shock and discomfort on my face upset her. I had no idea that I’d even reacted that way. I thought I’d just listened casually and absorbed the information.

I apologized, of course, but I realized that there was no way I was going to be the cool and flawlessly accepting mom that I wanted to be, no matter how hard I tried. I was human, my daughter was sharing things with me that were life-changing, and that was okay. I was going to have to feel what I felt — a mix of confusion, pride, worry, and protectiveness — process it as best I could, and show up as the mom that my daughter needed in these moments, as flawed as I was.

What Parenting a Trans Daughter is Really Like

This is just my own perspective, of course, but once we moved through the toughest parts of my daughter’s transition — coming out to family, friends, and coming out at school (which went overwhelmingly well; my daughter’s friends and her school’s staff were very supportive) — the rest has been, well, just pretty much normal.

One thing that drives me bonkers is that when you see trans kids depicted in the media or social media, it’s as though the person’s transness is all there is to them, like their life revolves around being trans. Or, in the case of the parents of trans kids, that their lives resolve around being the parent of a trans kid.

Don’t get me wrong: my daughter’s gender is something that comes up in our lives. In addition to the coming-out process, we’ve had to navigate name changes, finding trans-friendly healthcare providers, and the endless horrific anti-trans legislation that comes in at lightning speeds. There have been multiple instances where I feared that the government would come for her learner’s permit, her passport, her health coverage, her right to use her name and pronouns at school, her right to use the bathroom.

As a parent, I’ve had to move through my own complex feelings about my daughter’s transition, and my worries and fears about sending her off into a world that is unfriendly, and in many ways, dangerous for someone like her.

But at the end of the day, my daughter is just a normal young woman, and I’m just a normal parent. My daughter loves video games, playing guitar, staying up late talking to her little brother (they have the most amazing relationship), and hanging out with her friends. She started college this fall, and I’ve entered the world of parenting-from-afar and doing my best to let her go.

I am proud of who my daughter is and I am still the work-in-progress parent who is doing her best and loving her kiddo with all her heart.

What I Want Other Families to Know About Parenting a Trans Kid

It wasn’t just that unintentionally hurtful facial expression I made when my daughter came out to me. I’ve made plenty of mistakes over the past few years: misgendering my daughter, using her deadname (a name given at birth or a name that’s no longer used), and being hesitant about steps in her transition process (social and physical). But somehow, we made it through with our relationship intact. In fact, she and I are extremely close. I’m one of her top confidants — when it comes to trans stuff, but also life in general.

If I had any advice to my fellow trans parents, it would be to accept that you are going to make mistakes, but always keep your central goal in mind: supporting your child for who they are, and leading with love.

Also — and I think this is super important — you’ve got to accept that you are going to have complicated, prickly feelings. You are a human — and learning that there is a part of your child that is different than you thought, as well managing the many biases we all grew up having about gender and queerness — is bound to trigger challenging feelings.

You are allowed to feel these feelings. They are natural, and you should express them, because repressing feelings only intensifies them. But, whenever possible, share them with others, and not your child.

There was a lot my daughter didn’t know about how I was feeling, yet I didn’t suppress my emotions. I just worked them out separately from her — with my therapist, my husband, my close friends — because my reactions weren’t something she needed to hold.

Lastly, if I had to say anything to the rest of the world about what parenting a trans kid is like, it’s that it’s the same as parenting any child is. You know from the moment that this tiny being is placed in your arms that you’ve been tasked with watching over them. You get to know them, and you soon realize that they are the most magical, special soul.

But you soon learn, too, that they are their own person, separate from you, and watching them dive deeper into themselves is another gift that you’ve been given as a parent. You have two choices: you can either try to mold them into the person that you want them to be, or let them be wholly and completely themselves.

I believe that when given a choice, most parents would do exactly what so many parents of trans kids have done and continue to do, which is to choose acceptance over resistance, love over fear — to step back and let your kid bloom into the person they are, and were always meant to be.