One year on – a tween ‘transition’
It has been a year since I gave my 11 year old child my consent to change her name.
I imagine that most parents would think changing the name they chose for their baby would feel like a very big deal, but at the time it was the lesser of the many concerns I was desperately working to wrap my mind around. You see my daughter didn’t just want to change the name that was on her birth certificate. She wanted me to see her as she saw herself, and acknowledge that her gender wasn’t the same as the sex that she’d been assigned on the first day of her life, and which had been printed in black ink on that same document, ‘MALE’.
Last year I chose to finally really hear her. I chose to believe that she knew who she was – that she knows herself better than I do, and better than the doctor who looked between her legs at birth and said ‘It’s a boy’. I needed to trust that she knew her gender identity in the same way that her identical twin brother knew his. I had slowly come to the realisation that I never questioned or doubted her brother in knowing that he was a boy, as his sex aligns with his gender identity. There was an obvious double standard in the way I responded to them.
It wasn’t an easy decision – it had been coming for years, gradually building momentum, until the day came when I breathed in deeply and acknowledged that this wasn’t ‘just a phase’ as I’d hoped it would be, that I couldn’t make her fit in a boy-shaped box, and that to do so would be unkind and potentially very harmful for her. But I could love her, …