Just seen someone saying they support bans on trans healthcare for under 18s because “let kids be kids”.

By the time I hit puberty, I had KNOWN for a decade.

I also knew that telling anyone would be profoundly dangerous.

So I hid who I was and, am almost grateful that the neurodivergence gave the other kids something else to latch on to. They were so busy calling me a “mong” that they didn’t notice I was trans.

Because that might have got me murdered.

Or pushed me into a position where I felt I had no options other than the same end result.

So I hid it.

And I hid it really well.

And one of the things that happens when a 5 year old child is terrified of their parents, or their families, or the school bullies finding out who they really are is that they end up traumatised.

A 5 year old child. Traumatised and ashamed.

Ashamed because adults openly talked about them.

Or people like them.

And what they said was horrific. What they said made it very clear that they would regard their own kids as subhuman monsters if they ever found out.

So we hid. And an important part of ourselves died in childhood. A light that should have shone, went out.

I’ve tried my best to rekindle it.

I’ve managed somewhat but it will never be right. Not really. I’ve made peace with that.

“Let kids be kids”. Trans kids like me never got to be.

Because of people who say things like that.

I’ve been looking for a 4-leaf clover my entire life. Actively looking whenever I’m in a garden… and never found one.

Until today.

In a countryside train station, before hopping on a train to Como with my family.

I told my child and she immediately found another. She was so proud: “It’s my first 4-leaf clover!” (I immortalized the moment with my phone - the photo shows her hand picking it).

I’ll be pressing them in a book later today. Such precious keepsakes 💚

#GoodLuckCharm