I told my dad I'm trans. He asked for 30 minutes and came back with a sheet of paper

I was bracing for the worst (Picture: Hana Jayne Sho)

When I came out to my father, he immediately went quiet.

It was 2019 and I was 28. I had just opened up to him about the fact I’d decided to start taking testosterone and that I’d like him to refer to me as a different name to the one he and my mother had chosen for me.

That’s when he asked me to give him half an hour to think about it and disappeared to his desk.

Unnerved, I was bracing for the worst. He didn’t know a lot about trans folks at the time and had had a difficult time accepting my being outed as a lesbian when I was a teenager (another story for another time!).

My father was always the person who inspired me to imagine things (Picture: Gabe Gabriel)

Sure enough, around 30 minutes later, he came back to me and had a piece of paper in his hand. I noticed it had up to 20 adjectives on it.

He said he’d written down all the words he felt best described me – his child – and in doing so, had realised that none of them were gendered. I remember a few: ‘kind’, ‘thoughtful’, ‘compassionate’, ‘ambitious’…

He written down all the words he felt best described me (Picture: Gabe Gabriel)

So if what I was telling him was really that I was going to make some changes to my body but still be the same person he’d brought up and loved, then he was fine with it.

At first I was just confused – like waiting for the sound of a crash but it never comes. It was only later when I told my best friend that I realised he’d just invented a text book response for a loving parent of a trans person.

When I was a kid, my father was always the person who inspired me to imagine things. If we were waiting in line somewhere or sitting at a restaurant, he’d encourage me to write in what I called my little ‘detective notepad’ about all the interesting people and things I could see – imagining worlds and stories beyond what met my eyes.

Wearing an old fake beard I’d found in the dress-up closet, along with his oversized leather jacket (Picture: Gabe Gabriel)

He also encouraged me when I would dress up (unknowingly) in drag – wearing an old fake beard I’d found in the dress-up closet, along with his oversized leather jacket and baggy shorts.

In a way, without realising it, my father was allowing me the fun, adventurous boyhood I was secretly longing for.

He encouraged me to surf, skate, play ball, be brave, and dream big – these were all things that not many girls I knew at the time were being allowed to do.

I was so deeply anxious and uncomfortable that I finally ripped off the bandaid (Picture: Hana Jayne Sho)

I think, in that way, my father always saw me as his little boy and followed his gut when it came to guiding me through childhood.

It was my all-girls school and subsequent university training as an ‘actress’ that threw the real curveball and eventually I succumbed to the societal imperative to be ‘girly’ instead.

It was around this time that I fell in love with a girl and that became a way for me to finally feel at home with people who weren’t boys.

Those closest to me, like my father , could sense I was unsettled (Picture: Gabe Gabriel)

We want to help other trans kids and their parents navigate the fears around their coming out (Picture: Gabe Gabriel)

I tried my very best to pass as a woman in my awkward little body with a big butt and small chest but it was deeply uncomfortable. Those closest to me – like my father – could sense that I was unsettled but didn’t know why.

I clung to my discovery of lesbian culture and that identity as a way to explore my masculinity for a while. I even ended up marrying my childhood sweetheart and moving to the US.

But something still didn’t feel quite right. It was only when I turned 28 and was so deeply anxious and uncomfortable that I finally ripped off the bandaid.

We ended up making the movie together (Picture: Hana Jayne Sho)

I left my life and wife, moved back home to where my parents lived in South Africa, and came out as trans to my family and close friends. It was my two best friends and my younger sister that I voiced it to first and I wouldn’t have been able to find the words and strength to tell my parents without their support.

Being out was terrifying and prickly at first, as I was sure I’d lose my family and never be loved.

But my father’s response – his sweet list of adjectives and concern for my safety and happiness – was so moving for me that I decided to write a semi-autobiographical movie called Runs In The Family. It’s about a flawed but well-meaning brown dad who loves and celebrates his trans son unconditionally.

We ended up making the movie together, with my father directing and me acting. Miraculously, it ended up touring the world to queer festivals across five continents and ultimately releasing worldwide on Netflix. Most recently, it’s been nominated for a Glaad Award for Outstanding Film!

What my father and I discovered during the filmmaking process is that we’d like to make many more positive films together about trans life and the power of family.

We want to help other trans kids and their parents navigate the fears around their coming out a little better.

We get along incredibly well – better than ever in fact – and we look forward to making waves in trans cinema together forever.

You can watch Runs in the Family on Netflix, or find out more about it on their website here.

Pride and Joy

Pride and Joy is a series spotlighting the first-person positive, affirming and joyful stories of transgender, non-binary, gender fluid and gender non-conforming people. Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing [email protected]

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