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| Yes, we're basically twins. Except she's 26 years younger, And has shinier hair. And no wrinkles. So I'm basically the older, wrinklier twin. BRB, need to call my therapist. |
In its simplest form,
it all started with an email.
I think about this all the time. We got an email on a cold
February night from the scared little person in the other room. A desperate cry
for help. She told us she’s transgender. She told us she needed our support and
understanding.
There was a moment when Zoe and I were sitting in our room
across the hall, separated from a terrified child by two walls but only a mere
8 or 10 feet, when a decision had to be made: what do we do? How do we handle
this?
So many things could
have gone wrong that night. So. Many.
Things.
I could have chosen to remain ignorant to trans issues.
Rather than embrace her child, Zoe could have chosen to keep
her own then-unaddressed true gender buried with a total lack of acceptance for
her child’s true gender – a safety measure I’ve seen happen many times. (Remember
the guy in high school who was super homophobic and then ends up coming out in
college? That.)
We could have considered conversion therapy (still legal at
the time for youth in Ontario) and tried to “fix” Alexis. I feel sick just thinking
about it, but, sadly this still happens in many families today.
Or, we could have just ignored the email – and all the fears
and uncertainties it brought up – and hoped it would all quietly go away. Shove
it under the rug. We never saw an email, dear. Let’s talk about this in a
couple of years, when you’re a little older and understand yourself better.
I will never forget that moment. I sometimes relive it in
slow motion: read, process, look at Zoe, look at across the hall at Alexis’
closed door, look back at the email on the screen, process, repeat.
That moment changed
everything. Because, for whatever reason, we chose the right things. We put
love first, even though I felt like I was drowning in fear of something I knew
nothing about, and Zoe was doing the same in fear she knew all too well but
tried never to look at.
It’s important to note this: We are not amazing parents. We are not perfect parents (I fed my
family takeout twice this week and forgot to do my kid’s homework with him –
again.) We are not parents who are somehow better, smarter or more capable than
other people raising kids.
But for our many imperfections, I think we have our
priorities straight: Love before fear.
Belief before doubt. Questions before assumptions.
In other words: We chose to let love lead rather than our
own fears. We chose to believe what our child was telling us about who she is
rather than doubt her. And we chose to ask questions about what was going on
rather than make our own assumptions.
(Now, if only I could make a meal plan as well as I can make
room for acceptance, I would be BOSS at this parenting thing.)
The reason I keep going back to that one moment in time is because
it was the start of something beautiful. It’s the moment I found out I have a daughter
– that we all got it wrong for so long and she could finally tell us. I hold it
in high regard, like the day my babies were born, or the day Zoe and I said, “I
do.” Like those moments, it was the beginning of incredible things; a
transformation in our lives.
Because of Alexis’ bravery
in that moment, Zoe was finally able to come out.
Because of that
moment, I am married to the woman of my dreams, who makes me so much
happier now that she’s finally happy.
Because of that moment,
our kids have two moms who are modelling authenticity. The cloud that hung
over our household for years has been lifted, and it’s made all our lives
better.
Because of that moment,
I started sharing the story of our family’s transition – because it is a family transition, in many ways – and it’s
resonated with people all over the world. Because maybe you can’t relate to being
trans or having a trans family member (or two), but you can relate to the
bigger picture: unconditional love,
acceptance, support, fighting for the people you care about, and taking care of
yourself in the process.
Or maybe you can relate in deeper ways. Because of that moment, I’ve heard from trans people and their loved
ones from all over the world. Five different continents! (Oddly, no one has
emailed from Antarctica yet.) We even had a family stay with us
for a few months while attempting to find their footing in Canada, a place where they can
hopefully escape persecution.
And now, because of
that very moment, Alexis and I will be tackling our biggest speaking engagement
ever. We’ll be sharing our story at WE Day Vancouver on November 3rd,
2016.
I often go to WE Day in Ottawa as media, and will bring one
of my kids along as my “assistant.” (I’m not sure how much they’re assisting
me, but it makes me feel important and they get to go the press conferences and
such.)
Last year, I took Alexis for the first time, and her eyes
lit up. “Imagine being up there?” she leaned over to me as she gazed at the stage.
“I want to speak at WE Day. I think I could make a difference, too.”
“You already make a difference,” I told her. And I meant it,
obviously (see above.) But I knew what she was saying. WE Day is magical. I always leave ready to take on
the world. The speakers are empowering, the messages are strong, the thousands
of youth who attend are changemakers in their own communities. Having an impact
on a crowd like that can make a sizeable difference.
You may recall we did some work with Microsoft earlier this
year. That project was particularly special to me, as I fully understood how a
company of that calibre putting its support behind trans rights was a bold and important
statement. It shows us the world is moving in a direction that embraces people
for who they are, and that some companies – the best kind of companies, in my
opinion – are prepared to stand with the LGBTQ community beyond pride parade
sponsorship. It’s big.
So, you can imagine how it warmed my little activist heart
when Microsoft asked if Alexis and I would be willing to come to WE Day to
share our story of how technology – in the form of an email – helped make that
all-important moment in our lives happen. And the WE Day organizers having
trans youth on stage is a big step forward, too.
Basically, all these people deserve hugs.
But most importantly, it warmed my mama heart to know this
was happening, because I could tell my daughter her wish was coming true: on
November 3rd, she will be a WE Day Speaker! (Insert many heart
emoticons here and probably some crying face emoticons because I tend to get
emotional over this stuff.) Her brave message of authenticity is going to be
told in a whole new way.
One moment. That’s all
it takes to change your life and
make a difference in the lives of others. I’m glad that, in the moment, we
chose love. And now we get to spread that love all over.
Okay, I’m crying. I swear, I'm my own worst enemy.
Off to make a meal plan.