Growing Up in a Boy Suit

"My daughter Alice was not always called Alice. Until the age of fifteen, she was mostly Jory. On paper, she was Jordan. Often and alternately, she was called He or Him, both Son and Brother. On the hospital nursery wristband, tucked away now in the drawer of treasures beside my bed, she was likewise mislabeled.
Alice spent the first fifteen years of her life hidden away inside a Boy Suit, not unlike an inescapable pair of footie pajamas, which seem perfectly fine and comfortable at first, but grows less so over time. At the age of ten, a single toe poked through. By eleven, the armpits had gotten too tight. When she was twelve the broken zipper's twisted teeth scraped her here and there, a constant rash of  irritations. At thirteen it had grown so uncomfortable and restrictive that Alice secretly set out to shred the whole damn thing."

"Mom's" work is not the usual million word backstabbing babble we see in the trans community. It is a rare positive blueprint for other parents to follow.  Parents such as her should provide the future trans community with fewer negatives and more positives.
Wasted words of hate and endless theory  provide no help to the astounding percentage of youth considering and attempting to end their lives before they ever begin.

"Mom" is Laurustina and she has an amazing parents blog called Transparenthood here's a link!

Comments

Popular Posts