What would I like to tell you about my parents?

Hi there, I'm the daughter that the author of "What would I like to tell you about my son?" from pittparents.com keeps referring to as their "son." Yep, that's right – I'm the "bitter" and "self-righteous" woman who had the audacity to assert my own identity and live authentically as myself. How dare I, right?

First off, let me just say that my parents are the real MVPs when it comes to conditional love and support. They've really mastered the art of making their affection and acceptance contingent upon me being exactly who they want me to be. It's like a fun game of emotional blackmail that we play every day!

My mom (or dad, but let's be real, it's probably my mom) is so committed to misgendering and deadnaming me, as though it will prevent me from being trans or transitioning. The only thing it is doing is driving a wedge deeper between us. She's got this amazing ability to make every conversation be about my transition, then use that as a reminder that she doesn't see or accept me, and then playing the victim card. It's like a special skill that she's honed over years of practice, her power move. And they wonder why I almost didn’t invite them to graduation? How can I if I am scared they will out me, or humiliate me in front of my friends, or in public? I know I still need more voice training, as I struggle when talking over longer periods of time, but I can reasonably pass otherwise. How am I supposed to be safe, preserve my self respect, and be confident in who I am when my own parents do not care about my safety as a trans person nor can they find it within themselves to have the minimal amount of respect for me and who I am? Let alone the fact that they seem adamant to undermine my confidence at every turn.

But the real kicker is when she starts waxing poetic about how I'm just "sleeping" and how she's waiting for me to "wake up" and magically transform back into the son she always wanted. It's like she thinks my gender identity is some kind of fairy tale curse that can be broken with enough prayer and wishful thinking. Never mind the fact that I'm wide awake and living my life as the woman I've always been – in her mind, I'm just taking a really long nap. Everything I know that I am, everything about myself, being proud and finding it finally possible to like who I am, is just some temporary unreal being that is in control until the “real person” wakes up. Way to tell me you do not love or accept me without telling me you do not love or accept me.

And don't even get me started on the whole "God created him to be" thing. Apparently, my mom or dad has a direct line to the Almighty and knows exactly what He had planned for me. Where she can peer into my heart and know me better than I know myself. I thought only God could do that. I must have missed the memo where God appointed her as my personal gender identity consultant. Silly me, thinking I had any say in the matter!

But here's the thing, Mom: if you actually took the time to read your Bible, you'd see that God's love for all people, including transgender individuals like me, is unconditional. In Genesis 1:27, it says that God created humans in His own image. It doesn't specify gender, just that we are all created in God's likeness. And in Psalm 139:13-14, it says that God knit us together in the womb and that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. That includes me, all of me, including my being transgender.

And let's not forget about Jesus. He was all about love and acceptance, hanging out with the marginalized and the outcasts of society. In fact, in Galatians 3:28, it says that there is no longer male or female, for all are one in Christ Jesus. So maybe, just maybe, my identity isn't a sin or a deviation from God's plan, but a beautiful expression of the diversity of God's creation. Because who can fathom God’s divine plan, or our part in it, or his plan for me, or you? For all we know, I was born trans just to give you and Dad the opportunity to grow to fully appreciate and understand what Jesus was trying to teach us all along. He is waiting for you to accept him and allow him to work within, to soften those hardened hearts, to not go the way of the world, but to follow his path, his way, his light.

But you know what the real tragedy is? It's not my transition or my identity. It's the fact that my parents are so blinded by their own expectations and prejudices that they can't see the incredible, resilient, and authentic person I am. You know, I wish they could see the joy and peace I've found since I've started living as my authentic self. Embracing my identity as a woman hasn't been easy, I have had good days and bad, but it's been the most liberating and fulfilling experience of my life. For the first time, I feel like I can breathe freely, like I'm not constantly suffocating under the weight of someone else's expectations. I wake up every morning excited to face the day as the person I truly am, not the person you or anyone else thinks I should be. For the first time, I am beginning to feel at home in my own skin, and I relish being seen for who I really am. That's a feeling I wouldn't trade for anything in the world. They're so busy mourning the loss of a son you never really had that you're missing out on the opportunity to know and love their daughter.

I mean, I get it. Change is hard, and letting go of your preconceived notions about who your child should be is no walk in the park. But here's the thing: I'm not asking them to "agree" with my identity or to understand it completely. I'm just asking them to love me unconditionally, to respect my autonomy, and to support me in living authentically. I know that with time and the more we talk and share, the more understanding and insight they will gain - but it requires being able to trust and share openly with each other, and to reciprocate that trust and respect. Sadly, the basis for that starts with something as simple and basic as my name and pronouns.

But I guess that's too much to ask from parents who are so invested in their own version of reality that they can't see what's right in front of them. They'd rather cling to their beliefs and pray for a miracle that's never going to happen than open their hearts and minds to the person I am.

So, to all the parents out there who are struggling to accept their transgender children: I get it. It's not easy. But your child needs you now more than ever. They need you to see them, hear them, and love them for who they truly are. They need you to put aside your own fears, biases, and expectations and embrace the incredible human being they are. Because it is not the wrapper that matters, but what is inside that does.

And to my own parents: I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to "wake up" one day and be the son you always wanted. I am your daughter, and I always will be. The only question is whether you're willing to open your eyes and see me for who I truly am.

Because the truth is that I am not 'sleeping,' and I am not going to 'wake up' one day and revert to the son you always wanted. I am awake, alive, and fighting every day to be seen and accepted for who I truly am.

Your job as a parent is not to pray for your child to change, but to pray for your heart to soften, for your eyes to see, for you to be able to recognize and accept the beautiful, somewhat complicated, and authentic person they are. It's time to stop waiting for the 'miracle' you want and start embracing the miracle you were blessed with, the miracle of witnessing your child's courage and resilience in living their truth.