The parents of Kiwi transgender children share their stories of shock and acceptance with Jane Phare, and give advice on how best to handle the situation.
Ben* was gardening when his teenage son came to break the news. His son was transgender and wanted to transition, news that would upend a quiet weekend day and result in a “brain-spinning” week for Ben and his wife.
They already had three daughters; now they were about to gain a fourth.
Ben is disarmingly honest about the distress he felt after the revelation. He was about to lose his only son, the boy he took tramping in the bush, the boy he asked for “muscle help” in the garden, the teenager with whom he shared “boysee” jokes.
“I quite liked having a son,” he says.
The household didn’t run on specific gender lines. One of his daughters always helped him with DIY chores and building around the house.
“It was more the pattern of life. I suppose there was an unspoken coded gender-based alliance.”
And then there was the distress over the pathway his child was on. He and his wife feared life would not be easy for their (now) daughter.
He remembers those first few days and weeks as he and his wife tried to process Ella’s* news, the awkward moments, the questions, the jarring “wound” after hearing his daughter refer to her “dead name,” the male birth name they had chosen with such loving care for their first-born.
“We had a lot of conversations about our reactions to it, and understanding our reactions to it.”
Getting used to their daughter’s new name and pronouns took about six months, but their other daughters “changed gear immediately”. After that, Ben says, the family just got on with it. School was not a problem. Records were changed, other kids largely accepted the transition and Ella’s friends and allies wrapped themselves around her.
“She found her tribe. She has a lot more confidence in herself, and is more willing to make friends, which stems from her feeling more comfortable in her own skin.”
He soon realised that his initial anguish and misgivings were more about him than his child. “She’s the same person I’ve always loved and always will.”
The rise of anti-trans rhetoric
Ben was among several parents of transgender children who shared their story with the Weekend Herald, wanting to give themselves and their children a voice. Most were apologetic that they could not be identified or photographed. Their anonymity was not to protect their own privacy, it was to protect their children in the wake of a rise in anti-transgender rhetoric and “moral outrage” in recent months, vitriol on social media and the effect of British activist Kellie-Jay Keen-Minshull, also known as Posie Parker, which they say resulted in bullying and anti-trans views increasing in schools.
They despair at claims circulating on social media – that transgender people and others from the LGBTQA+ community are going into kindergartens to “recruit” kids, or might sexually assault women in bathrooms or prisons.
Or that parents who support their kids through the transition process are effectively “grooming” them, or guilty of child abuse. Try telling a determined 4-year-old what they can or can’t wear, they say, or a determined or distressed teenager what they can and can’t do despite what parents think.
Rebecca*, the mother of 16-year-old transgender son Jay*, says anti-trans sentiment has been growing in the US and in the UK and has now arrived in New Zealand.
“I know trans women who have been using public bathrooms for decades and there has not been an issue until now.”
Rebecca rejects the popular theory of social contagion - that exposure to transgender people will encourage more youths to come out as transgender.
“I think ‘man, who would choose this?’”
Far from being exposed to social conditioning, Rebecca’s son rejected being a girl from the age of 3, refusing to wear girl’s clothing, playing with boys at daycare, and later school, and insisting he was a boy.
“He was pretty adamant. If I tried to put a dress on him he would take it off.”
At first, she and her former husband thought he was going through a tomboy stage but by the time he was 4 or 5 he was asking for his “golden ponytail” to be cut off because he didn’t want to look like a girl. Rebecca recalls being scared, horrified even, when it dawned on her that this was more than just being a tomboy.
“I wasn’t horrified that he might be trans, I was horrified that if he was, that he’d lead a difficult life.”
Two years of “negotiation” followed during which Jay was “very insistent and persistent” that he wanted to be a boy.
Finally, his parents promised that on his 7th birthday, the ponytail would go. In its place would be a short, boy’s style haircut, a boy’s name and she/her became he/him.
The schools handled Jay’s transition well, she says. The primary school put a unisex sign on a toilet, the intermediate school converted a block of toilets to unisex with full-length doors, and that had already happened by the time Jay went to secondary school.
“It hasn’t been a biggie at school. Once he cut his hair people just assumed he was a boy.”
By the time he was a teenager, Jay wanted his name changed permanently.
As a result, school and NCEA records were changed, he got a new birth certificate, passport, bank accounts, IRD records, medical records and NHI number. Rebecca admits to feeling “a bit sad” for a day or two after the official name change.
“But in reality, you’re not losing a child and gaining another. He’s still the same child and a name is just a name.”
Rebecca admits she kept hoping Jay would change his mind. Once in a while, she’d suggest “maybe you could live like a woman?”
“He’d say ‘Mum I know it would be easier but I can’t. I just can’t.”
For the moment Jay’s on puberty blockers so that he won’t develop breasts or hips, and will avoid having to have a double mastectomy.
“He’s quite paranoid about looking like the shape of a woman.”
Jay’s siblings and step-siblings, his stepfather and grandparents have all been supportive, as have his friends at school, for the past nine years. What’s changed in recent months is disturbing online chatter and posts that have targeted transgender people.
To other parents, Rebecca says don’t believe people who say “it’s a choice,” or it’s a result of bad parenting or some sort of trauma in their childhood.
“That’s all bulls***. Just believe your child and go with it.”
Rebecca thinks the post-Posie Parker rhetoric will eventually die down.
“They’ll find another cause celebre. Basically, they’re going from anti-vax to anti-trans, and there’ll be another anti coming up shortly I’m sure.”
But the backlash has affected Jay, causing him to change schools and go from being “out and proud” to keeping his transition a secret.
“It’s a bit gutting actually because he is going to be found out and he is going to be hurt. He’s now asking his friends to lie for him, which is a shame.”
And it’s caused Rebecca to reverse a decision to speak out using her real identity in the face of “horrible” remarks on Twitter. On Facebook, extended family members who have been silent on the issue now send her links to dubious studies or claims like trans children have been sexually abused in the past. Previously mild transphobia has now become more intense, and she thinks that as a result, transition will be harder now than when her son was going through it.
“I’m kind of glad I got through the sensitive years before it became as hateful as it has.”
Parents of transgender kids want others to realise that anti-trans posts being shared on social media affect their children. Ben says previously unseen transphobic “chitter-chatter” emerged at Ella’s school, causing her to go into a depressive hole for a week.
Your first reaction matters
When your child breaks the news, don’t panic, take a breath, parents who have been through it say. Your first reaction matters.
Laura’s* son Nate* was 13 when he announced to his parents and younger sister that he wanted to transition from being a girl. Laura remembers that moment during a family dinner while they were away on holiday. She managed to nod and give a ‘that’s-nice-dear’ reaction but inside she was panicking.
“It was an utter shock and, at that point, I had no idea what transgender even was.”
Her advice is to try to stay calm and not overreact. For some children, it may just be a teenage exploration of identity. They might transition socially - choose a different name and pronouns, and dress differently – but go no further. They might well reverse their transition in later years.
“But they will remember how you’ve treated them and how you’ve approached that discussion.”
Again for a child of primary-school age, or younger, relax and go with it, Laura advises.
“Parents will cause more harm by trying to force them into clothing or an identity that is not natural to them. Don’t give them any idea or impression that they are doing something bad or it’s not a good thing to talk about, or it’s disgusting or wrong.”
Instead of focusing on their gender, focus on making sure they are a good person, that they know their manners, that they are learning at school and making friends, she says.
Schools need to do the same. “The focus at some schools is ‘how will we deal with this mismatch?’ as opposed to ‘how will we make sure this child gets a good education and is kept safe, like every other child?’.
“Everyone has the right to privacy. Transgender people of any age just want to get on with life.”
Just listen to the child and ask the occasional open-ended question, she says. In some cases, it may be that a girl wants to be a boy because she wants to be a “policeman” and thinks only boys can do that.
“But in other cases, children might feel they have been born in the wrong body. A little boy might say ‘I want to cut off my penis because I’m a girl and I shouldn’t have a penis.’
“If a child is extremely distressed about gender and is wanting to harm themselves, that’s where you need to reach out to someone who is trained in those areas to support you with that.”
Feeling isolated at the time of her son’s announcement caused Laura to start a support group for parents. She came across four other families on Facebook and seven years ago started a group, now called Parents and Caregivers of Transgender and Gender Diverse Children in Aotearoa New Zealand.
“I started it because I didn’t want any other parent to go through that completely alone feeling.”
That core group of five has now grown to 1145, families who share information and support each other on a secret Facebook page. Aligned with that group is an open website, www.transgenderchildren.nz, with information, personal stories and an email link to Laura and other group supporters, including for those in the Māori and Pasifika communities. The group also has strong links to other support organisations.
Some dads can struggle
Families of transgender children say siblings usually accept and adapt quickly followed by mothers, but that some fathers can struggle for longer with the change. For that reason, the parent group offers support for everyone in the family but has a specific group of fathers who have already been through it.
“We always have a dad who is happy to talk with people,” Laura says.
She refers to the reaction of her late husband, who died of cancer last year. He told her his one regret was that had not been more supportive of their son from the start.
“If he had that time over again he would have just embraced [their son] for who he was at that point and focused on really supporting him as opposed to saying ‘well you’ll always be my little girl. This is just a phase.’”
Pam’s* daughter Brook* transitioned to a woman when she was 30 after years of struggling with poor mental health, learning difficulties and syndrome issues including ADHD, agoraphobia and Asperger’s and Tourette syndromes. She developed anxiety issues after her father died when she was 17 and was unable to hold down a job.
Getting through the shock of her daughter’s transition five years ago wasn’t easy, Pam says.
It took her two years to stop using the wrong pronoun or name for her daughter, after a 30-year habit. “That was the most difficult part for me. I was getting told off all the time.”
To parents, she says handling the transition takes a tremendous amount of patience, understanding and compassion. “And love . . . you’ve just got to love them. They’re your kids.”
She doesn’t think her late husband would have handled it well.
“I know that if her father had been alive it would have been a nightmare because he was quite homophobic, and also being a male and having a son turn into a daughter. I don’t think he would have coped.”
One woman writes on the parent support website that nothing in her (then) son’s childhood indicated he was born in the wrong body. Instead, their daughter left a note for her parents when she was 16, “miserable” and with poor attendance at an all-boys school.
“At first we were devastated . . . my husband struggled to be in the same room with her as he felt he would cry, so would often leave the room. My daughter thought he was rejecting her and got really upset. Nothing in our lives had prepared us for the shockwave that reverberated around our home those first few days.”
‘It will be okay.’
Seven years after her son transitioned, Laura speaks in a calm, authoritative voice. She knows her stuff, she knows what the research says and she knows hundreds of parents and caregivers who have faced the same dilemmas.
Feelings of shock, panic or denial are all perfectly understandable reactions, parents say. No parent wants a child to choose a difficult pathway in life. But, they say, it’s not a pathway the child chooses; it chooses them.
Trying to convince a child they are not transgender won’t change the outcome, Laura says.
“It’s just going to damage the relationship. You need to reassure them that you will love and support them no matter what. And just keep telling yourself that they are still the same person you have always loved, and it will be okay.”
Ben, too, has adjusted saying he and his wife soon realised nothing much had changed. Their daughter still has the same annoying teenage habits and is still interested in the same things.
“She’s still my nerdy child.”
Like Ben, most parents spoken to had little clue as to what they were facing and started doing their own research. Information is available on sites like the Ministry of Health and Gender Minorities Aotearoa, through GPs and community mental health services in the regions.
But Ben warns about following sites that are effectively anti-transgender.
“There is an enormous amount of misinformation that’s circulating. It’s very easy to be misled by stuff that looks authoritative and it’s not.”
Rebecca, confronted with a young daughter who wanted to grow up as a man, made a point of talking to transgender men.
“I found three in particular who were all living perfectly contented lives in really good careers. They were all in healthy relationships.”
Those encounters helped her realise her child was not facing a dreadful life and that it would be “just fine”.
Already she can tell with the skills her son has and the career he’s aiming for, he will end up with a good job.
Pam’s daughter, Brook, is now settled in Auckland, living downstairs and married to an American transgender woman who had surgery in California.
“Quite the modern family,” Pam says, laughing.
Brook, always good at writing, has written several self-published novels, selling them on Amazon. This month she has released her first commercial hardback novel, taken on by a publisher, and is billed as “a new trans voice from New Zealand”.
Before taking hormones and coming out, Brook was agoraphobic, afraid to leave the house. Now she’s driving and living a normal life.
“The change in her has been amazing as far as her ability to cope. I think it helped her in the long run.”
What happens next
Transgender children start by socially transitioning – cutting or growing their hair, wearing different clothes, choosing a new name and using different pronouns.
Any further than that and specialists get involved, first the family GP, then a paediatric endocrinologist and referral to a counsellor for six sessions paid for by the Ministry of Health. The child, distressed by signs of puberty, may want to go on puberty blockers. Don’t be afraid of that, parents say; it buys you time, slowing down the puberty progression while the child works through the transition.
Late last year the Ministry of Health removed the words “safe and reversible” with regard to puberty blockers. The Ministry says it does not take a position on puberty blockers - rather, it says, any information on its website is designed to be informative. “Because individual circumstances vary considerably, decisions around the use of puberty blockers are best made by patients and their families in consultation with appropriate health professionals,” a spokesman said.
After puberty blockers, many transgender teenagers want hormone therapy, which is normally not approved until the teenager is between 16 and 18, and only after assessment of the child’s transition history and sessions with a clinical psychologist.
Laura’s son, now in his early 20s, has grown facial hair and has a deeper voice as a result of taking testosterone. He’s gone as far as having a double mastectomy but no further.
Ben says before their daughter started taking puberty blockers, she arranged to bank her sperm at Greenlane Hospital in case she should want children in the future.
Less than 10 per cent of people who identify as transgender end up having surgery but Laura points out that could be because of the lack of availability in New Zealand. The waiting list for publicly-funded gender-affirming surgery is years long. As a result, some pay tens of thousands of dollars for private treatment or travel to places like Thailand for surgery.
Anti-trans laws introduced in the US
Laura worries about conservative views and the introduction of laws in the US that have effectively made it illegal in some states to transition before the age of 18, forcing parents to either shift to a different state or country to access medical and support services.
Although states like California have passed legislation to protect families of transgender children and stop insurance companies from refusing coverage, other states have gone the other way. In Idaho, and at least 13 other states in the US, physicians will face up to 10 years in prison if they provide puberty blockers, hormone therapy and other gender-affirming care to people under the age of 18. Parents and caregivers face prosecution too. More than 10 other states are considering similar bills.
This month Florida passed a bill that would allow the state to remove transgender minors from their families if they receive any sort of treatment for gender dysphoria, and the state also has a ban on private insurance for gender-affirming surgery.
“That’s not where we want New Zealand to go,” Laura says.
Her son Nate started testosterone at the age of 16 but the hormone therapy needed sign-off from an endocrinologist and a clinical psychologist beforehand. He had “top surgery” in the form of a double mastectomy at aged 18, an operation which Laura describes as “the hardest point for me as a parent”.
But looking back she said her son was happier once he started hormone therapy and after the mastectomy she found herself thinking, “Now he seems like he’s meant to be.”
Nate is now in his early 20s, working part-time while he studies at university, getting As and A+s. Compare that with the troubled teenager who rarely attended secondary school, was in and out of hospital after suicide attempts and self-harm incidents, and was on medication.
“We went through every type of parenting course you ever dreamed of and nothing really made a difference.”
Now her sociable son is flatting with friends and wants to be a social worker.
“He’s doing really well in life and he’s happy. He is everything that I would want him to be and he just happens to be transgender.”
*Names have been changed to protect privacy
The original version of this story stated the Ministry of Health considered puberty blockers “safe and reversible”. It was updated on May 30 to better reflect the Ministry’s position that it does not offer clinical advice or guidance but recommends consultation with appropriate health professionals.
