Today is National Coming Out Day, and it strikes me that my son — a fourth-grader who only recently got a birth certificate stating that he is, indeed, male — doesn’t really have a coming out story. Thanks to the perseverance of generations of transgender people before him, Max, as my son is now known, has never really had to “come out” to the people in his life. He did, however, start using male pronouns and introducing himself as a boy by the time he was 6 years old, but honest to goodness he doesn’t even remember a word of the conversation we had together. Being true to himself is all he’s ever known in this family.
Max has always been a bit of pioneer. He was born abroad, and I’d like to think that the first 18 months of his life, living as a baby and toddler in the Netherlands, gave him a resilient, adventurous spirit that makes him relatively immune to taking personally the ignorant rhetoric surrounding the politics of gender identity…
Love to the Max 
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