I have been thinking a lot about belonging. Belonging is something many trans kids struggle to experience for a long time. It can be very difficult to feel that you truly belong when you do not yet feel able to live as yourself. Brené Brown writes, “True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.”  For many trans people, the possibility of belonging begins when they are finally able to live in alignment with their gender identity.

Valentine’s Day is usually framed as a celebration of romantic love, but every year I find myself thinking about a different kind of love, the kind that shows up in living rooms, late-night conversations, worried text messages, and quiet moments when a child finally lets a truth slip out that they’ve been carrying alone. I think about the parents in this community. The ones I meet through coaching, in comments, in connection calls, in messages sent at moments of real vulnerab

As this new year begins, I’ve been sitting with a word that feels quieter than resolution, but far more sustaining. My word for 2026 is allow . For me, this isn’t about stepping back or disengaging. It’s about loosening my grip on how things are supposed to unfold, and choosing instead to meet what’s actually here with curiosity, steadiness, and trust. It’s about letting life show me what it needs, rather than trying to steer it toward a predetermined outcome. This feels espe

There’s a moment that doesn’t get talked about much in conversations about supporting our trans kids who are adults, living independently, sometimes miles away from home. It’s the first holiday they come home after living as their authentic self, the first time you see them again after months of being away at school or work, of watching their life unfold in pictures, captions, and FaceTime calls. For many families this is a joyful return: laughter in the kitchen, catch-up sto