Embedded Files
Transitioning isn't always easy; and it affects our family and friends to adjust. As those who care for us see our changes, they also change.
Read below my mom's account following my life, her own expectations, and processing grief.
The below was written by my mom, Shari, which she presented at the USJE Equity Conference.
The conference took place from May 27-30, 2025 in Halifax, NS.
I’ve been a single mom to two children for most of their lives. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s been full of love, laughter, and lessons I never expected to learn - especially when it comes to what it truly means to accept and support your child.
In 2018, my son Mik*** moved to Ottawa to begin university. At the same time my younger daughter Cherity moved in with her dad. I became an empty nester who thought knew everything about my little family, boy was I wrong!
Life has a funny way of reminding you that parenting doesn’t end when they grow up or move out. Sometimes, it leads you into new territory altogether.
In 2021, I received a postcard in the mail. It was from my child in Ottawa and, in that small but brave piece of paper, I was told something life-changing: That I now have a daughter. And she hoped I would accept her - as well as her new name, Mikayla.
Was I shocked? Yes. Not because I wasn’t proud of her-but because I didn’t see it coming.But then looking back, maybe I did!
You see, she was always a little different. She preferred spending time with me and my mom over her dad; even from a young age. She only had female friends, played with my daughter’s toys, wore her dress-up clothes, loved crafts, baking and played the flute.
At the time, I didn’t fully understand what it meant to be transgender. I didn’t know about the deep pain that comes with feeling like you’re in the wrong body-the body dysmorphia, the mental health struggles, the suicidal thoughts, the fear of not being accepted-not just by society, but by the people who are supposed to love you the most.
And I didn’t know the toll that pain could take on someone’s body. I watched my daughter struggle with her weight. For years, I didn’t fully understand what was going on. She hated how she looked-but it went deeper than self-esteem. It was a war with her own body.
Eventually, she experienced rapid wight loss which she said it was intermittent fasting-and I later came to learn it was anorexia.
It was heartbreaking to watch her suffer-not knowing how to help, not yet understanding that it was tied to something much bigger.
After I got the postcard, I sat with it for a few days. I needed time. I needed to let it sink in. And then-I picked up the phone and called her, listened to her and assured her my love hasn’t changed.
But I’ll be honest, I did go through a grieving period, and it still comes in waves. I have to grieve the son I thought I had-not because I don’t love my daughter, but because I needed to let go of the future I had pictured, the person she was, and especially, the name I gave her.
I needed to make space for a new future.
I discovered that grief and love can live side by side-at least for me, they do. But that grief won’t last forever. Because what’s replacing it is joy. Relief. And the incredible privilege of getting to know my daughter for who she truly is.
She’s still my child-the same soul, the same heart-but now a much happier version.A freer version. A version that laughs more, shines more, lives more fully feeling like she’s living as the person she was always meant to be.
But even in that joy-I still worry. Not because of who she is, but because of the world she has to walk through.
Between society, social media and politics-there’s still so much ignorance, so much hate disguised as opinion. And as her mom, that fear never fully will go away. No matter how grown up she is, there’s a part of me that will always want to protect her-from judgment, from cruelty, from a world that still sometimes sees being different as being a threat.
But I’m also incredibly proud. She graduated last year from a stressful term at university. She now has a loving partner she lives with in Ottawa. And believe it or not-she works as an administrator for a Catholic Church of all places, and the same church Mark Carney attends. Talk about acceptance!
Being the mother of a transgender daughter has opened my eyes-and my heart-in ways I never expected. It’s shown me what it really means to love someone unconditionally: to let go of what you thought your children’s lives would look like, and instead, celebrate who they are becoming. Because at the end of the day, our children aren’t here to become who we expected. They are here to become themselves. And witnessing that unfold-that transformation-has been the most beautiful part of all.
Page updated
Google Sites
Report abuse