Feet

I was browsing a website today which claims to support parents who are struggling to accept their transgender children; there it teaches them how to deny and reject their child's identity and to refuse them care and support. There, I found an article recommending that when seeking comfort, one should look at the ceiling, at their hands, etc. Anything other than facts and science. Since I am having a moment, I looked at my feet.

These feet walked alongside my child when they took their first steps almost 20 years ago. These feet danced with joy at their first words, their first day of school, and every milestone in between. These are the feet that ran to embrace them after a long day, to comfort them when they were sad, and to celebrate their triumphs.

As my child grew older, these feet walked with them on their journey of self-discovery. When my child told me they were transgender, these feet didn't hesitate. They did not run away. They stood firm, ready to support and love my child unconditionally.

These feet have marched in pride parades, walked into doctor's appointments, and paced nervously outside courtrooms as we fought for my child's rights. They have stepped into new roles and responsibilities, learning to navigate a world that isn't always kind to those who are different. These feet have carried her weight to the hospital, to set her broken bones from bullies who beat her. These feet have learned to stand tall in face of lies and hate.

But through it all, these feet have never wavered in their love and acceptance. They have carried me to my child's side, to hug them, to hold them, and to remind them that they are loved and valued, no matter what.

Now, as I watch my child blossom into a confident and happy young woman, these feet are filled with pride. They dance with joy at every milestone, every achievement, and every smile on my daughter’s face. They walk alongside her, ready to support her in whatever challenges and adventures lie ahead.

These feet are a reminder that a parent's love knows no bounds. They have carried me through the ups and downs of parenthood, and they will continue to do so, no matter where my child's journey takes them. And I look forward to the day where these feet walk down the aisle next to my daughter, to give her hand away.

So to all the parents out there, remember: it's not about the shape of your child's feet or the path they choose to walk. It's about the love and acceptance in your heart, and the willingness to walk alongside them, every step of the way.

These feet are tired now, but they are also full of hope and love. They are ready to keep walking, to keep supporting, to keep marching, and to keep dancing in celebration to the amazing person my child is and will continue to be.