My son is trans, and this is not some story about rumors, opinions, or what people think they know. This is about my kid. The same kid I watched grow up, laugh too loud, get nervous over small things, and try to figure out where he belonged.

When he told me, I won’t pretend I had every answer right away. I didn’t. But I knew one thing for sure: I loved him before that conversation, and I loved him after it. Nothing about that changed.

People can talk all they want, but they are not the ones who know his heart. I do. He is still my son. He is still family. And if the world gets rough, he will always have a place with me.