Mama, wait! There’s one more thing I want to say on that survey.

- Author Maggie Rawling Smith

My eight-year-old looked up at me with their big golden eyes. “Since I’m changing schools this year, can you please write that I’m non-binary?”

Tears of pride welled up in my eyes, but I didn’t want them to be mistaken for sadness. I bought time with a big hug. “Of course,” I recovered quickly. “What a good idea.

My child has attended two other schools in their young life. At both they were bullied over the age-old, thoughtless question, “what are you - a boy or a girl?”

Well-intentioned principals assured me that each school was “trans friendly”, but that too often implies choosing a gender. My child prefers to live and express themselves in the blurry in-between.

Yes to pink and ballet dancing and a unicorn collection. Yes to playing Fortnite and reading Harry Potter and throwing a football with Uncle Z.

Each time they were pushed down or harangued for being themselves, I dried their tears and assured them that a non-binary world, where we address each child as unique, free of the underlying stereotypes and assumptions of gender, is the future. 

They smiled and called Granny, who met the news with, “Where did you learn that word? It’s a shame you’ve been indoctrinated. This is very unfortunate and upsetting.” Then, she hung up. My child’s mouth opened in shock. “Wow. I can’t believe she really said that.” I hung my head, my mind exploding with a million Mama-bear protection fantasies.

For a second I thought I saw tears well up, but then a huge smile made their eyes disappear. “I love you, Mama. I’m so glad you’re my mom and not her.” I exhaled. “Me too, You. I’m so glad that you’re mine.” We embraced like they were four again. I buried my nose in their long, golden curls.