One of my children came out to us as non-binary about three years ago and started using the name Indigo about a year after that. That summer, I took them to my workplace to hang out for a few hours before an appointment. I had not told my work colleagues about Indi’s transition, but right before Indi and I got out of the car, I realized that Indi would be meeting a new team member for the first time. And that the rest of my team knew Indi only by their old name. So I asked, “How do you want to be introduced?” “As Indigo.”

This was the first time Indigo asked me to use their new name and pronouns in public. I was still getting familiar with the new name and grappling with using they/them pronouns for a singular person; how can I do this in front of people outside our family? My stomach sank, my face got hot, and I started sweating (and not just because it was a balmy 95 degrees in Houston). Was this IT? Was this our family’s coming out? What about my other colleagues who knew Indi by their old name? Would I have to answer questions? Would I have to explain everything I knew about gender identity on the spot? Would my colleagues think we were weird? I was terrified.

Once my brain started functioning again, I realized that if my 16-year-old child could walk into an office full of adults, wanting me to use their new name, then surely I could pull myself together and be brave for my child.

Visibly shaking, I led Indi down the long hall to my office. Since I’m a praying kind of person, I prayed for strength, courage, peace, and the words to honor Indi in the moment that was coming.

“Wanda, this Indigo. Indigo, Wanda is our new data manager. Hey, y’all – [birth name] goes by Indigo now. Oh - yeah, Indigo decided to change [mumblecoughnopronoun] name.”

And that was it. No one asked any questions. No one kicked us out. No one died. I mumbled over the pronouns, but I did use their name. And stopped shaking after about an hour.

Later, I learned that following my child’s lead was the right thing to do. And that my child and our family don’t owe anyone explanations about their gender identity. That first time was a doozy, but each time I used Indigo’s name and pronouns correctly to honor and respect my child, it got easier. When I was ready (and had Indi’s permission), I did explain Indi’s gender identity to my colleagues individually, and no one batted an eye. Okay, there was one person whose twisted facial expression betrayed her dismay, but she kept her mouth shut. I count that as a win. Baby steps.

Looking back, fear played a big part in my initial journey with my transgender child. Fear of learning new concepts, new words, new science, a whole new universe! Fear of losing who my child was. Fear of my family’s reaction. Of close-minded idiots. Of medical transitioning. Misunderstanding. Embarrassment. Violence. The unknown.

Parents of trans and LGBTQ kids, you are fully justified for feeling overwhelmed. This is a lot for a human person to handle!

And yet you don’t have to live in fear. I get that the fears can feel crippling and endless and insurmountable. But they’re not.

Just breathe and take things one step at a time. Love your child unconditionally and support their identity. Follow your child’s lead. Get support. Educate yourself. And the rest will come. According to Brené Brown, “Sometimes the bravest and most important thing you can do is just show up.”

Not everything will be easy, and there will still be scary times. You’ll make mistakes. But there will also be lots of joy, laughter, and hope. It will all be okay. Your child will be okay. Just love your kiddo. You’re doing great.

Just breathe. And show up.

Are you prepared?

Love. Support. Celebration. Pride.