Pride From a Parent’s Point of View

My first experience with Pride was that other people participated in it. Since I am not a member of the LGBTQ+ community, I paid little attention to Pride Month for a long time. A friend of mine was diagnosed with breast cancer when my kids were young and shared about how much she hated how, in October, everything turned pink for Breast Cancer Awareness. In my mind, I figured the LGBTQ+ community felt the same way about all the rainbows that showed up in June.

Then, Leo came out as transgender in early 2016. Suddenly, Pride became more personal.

For the first few years, I wasn't sure how I felt about Pride as the parent of a transgender young adult. It still felt like something that belonged to someone else - people with louder voices, who wore brighter colors, and who were much surer of themselves than I was.

Pride is a celebration, and in those first few years, I didn't feel in a very celebratory mood most of the time. I was still working through my very complicated feelings about being the parent of a transgender child, most of which had to do with letting go of hopes and dreams I had formed in childhood as the only girl in a family of five kids.

In those early years, I didn't know what was expected of me as the parent of a transgender child during Pride month. During that first year, I was still learning the language and terminology. Now and then, I would have to pause before using Leo's name or pronouns because they weren't familiar yet. I wasn't entirely sure what it meant to be a "supportive parent," or if I was doing it right. I was still learning what it meant for me to be the parent of a transgender child.

But what I did feel was love for Leo, big and wholeheartedly.

My fierce mama's heart knew that I would go to the ends of the earth to protect him and his rights to exist and be happy, and isn't that what Pride is all about?

So that's where Pride began for me—not waving a flag but saying "I love you" in a way my child could believe. It was learning to say Leo's name and not breaking down because I was grieving my Grampa, whose name he took. It looked like showing up at therapy week after week so I could work through my complicated feelings and learn how to support Leo better. It was choosing a closer relationship with Leo over needing to know all the things.

Pride, from a parent's point of view, is not always loud. Sometimes, it looks like:

• Practicing your child's pronouns until they come naturally.
• Correcting a family member gently, again and again.
• Buying a button, a book, or a shirt in colors that used to feel foreign.
• Lighting a candle on June 1 and saying, "Help me to love well this month—and always."

Some parents show up at parades. Others sit in quiet pews, praying for strength. Some are just starting to grieve the child they thought they knew while slowly learning to celebrate the one they have.

All these parents belong at Pride. You belong at Pride, even if you don't feel ready yet - even if your child just came out as transgender and you haven't found your footing yet.

Because Pride is about dignity and presence, it's about saying: "We're here. We matter. We're worth loving."

So this month, I will keep loving out loud, which is the only way I know how. Maybe I'll post a photo. Perhaps I'll send a note to another parent who's struggling. Maybe I'll just sit with my children and let them lead the way.

Because Pride doesn't start with confidence, it starts with love. And that is something we parents already know how to do.