Hi, I’m Sharlot, originally from San Antonio, Texas.
I have a 3-year-old daughter who was born three months before the pandemic started. During those early months, I was working from home, trying to balance the demands of caring for a newborn with the stress of isolation.
The powerful bond I formed with my daughter, fueled by the rush of oxytocin, was an incredible experience, filled with an overwhelming desire to protect and nurture her.
As time passed and I took on the role of primary parent during my family leave, I began to feel a growing sense of dysphoria. Although I had experienced dysphoria my entire life, I never fully understood what it was.
About a year and a half into the pandemic, these feelings became impossible to ignore.
One moment, in particular, stands out: I was watching TV with my ex, and she asked where I saw myself in the future with our daughter. I couldn’t answer her because I couldn’t envision a future for myself – it was just a nebulous cloud.
Spending time with my daughter at the park, I felt disconnected from the other dads. I couldn’t identify with them at all.
Meanwhile, TikTok’s algorithm started showing me trans content, which caught my attention and prompted me to seek therapy. Finding a therapist was a lifesaver; they helped me navigate my confusion and desperation.
After months of therapy, I came to the realization that I was trans and always had been. Denying this truth was destroying me, and I couldn’t be the parent my daughter needed if I continued to hide. I came out to my supportive parents and my ex, and we decided to separate.
I began my social transition and started living as my true self. One of my main concerns was how this would affect my daughter, who was just two and a half at the time.
A few months into my transition, I started hormone replacement therapy (HRT). As I grew my hair longer and presented more femininely, my daughter began to notice the changes.
One day, she saw a print of a mural by a queer artist in San Antonio depicting the Virgin Guadalupe as a trans woman. She looked at it and pointed, saying, “Daddy.” It was a moment of realization for both of us – she was starting to see me as I saw myself.
The most affirming moment came when I was practicing my voice training and saying, “Hi, I’m Sharlot.” My daughter looked at me and said, “No, Sharlot.” Hearing her say my name for the first time was incredibly validating.
Reflecting on my ex’s question about the future, I can now see it clearly. I can imagine myself 20, 25 years from now, walking in the park or going to dinner with my daughter as an adult. I can create these memories as my true self, and that feels like a blessing.
I’m grateful to be able to be this person for my daughter, to live authentically and to share my true self with her.
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