I voted on Halloween, my favorite day of the year. I needed to be superstitious and it just felt right.
So many of us had hope combined with fear and anger at the division that has plagued our country. Florida has been my home since the age of two, and each passing year I spend here, the more disconnected I feel from its politics. I feel numb with flare ups of fear and deep-seated anger, all while I try to remain mindful that those I love didn’t choose someone who openly divides our country through racism and discrimination.
When I woke up to the news that Donald Trump had been elected again, my daily routine had to begin like it always does — with a bagel and exercise, and I am proud to say it did. One day at a time. One foot literally in front of the other.
My youngest child is my transgender son. This column has given me a voice to express all the feelings I keep hidden inside at times, and to connect with others who are sharing our journey in their own lives. Spreading awareness and allowing a safe space for anyone to gain insight and educate themselves about transgender children was always my goal, but this column, selfishly, gives me peace and a way of expressing myself when things feel overwhelming and scary.
The day of the election was also the day my son’s high school informed him that although they do not agree with the policy, he cannot participate on school sports teams because he is transgender.
Of my four kids I have raised, and continue raising, his upbringing has been filled with roadblocks like this. It hurts my heart just as much as it pisses me off, but I strive to be more like my son.
As my blood pressure rose and my anxiety mounted over the news that he again would be discriminated against, he found grace, humor and a workaround. When he was “allowed” to join the soccer team in middle school, which I had to fight for, he was barely given the opportunity to play and spent most of his final season on the bench cheering on his teammates. But I saw his broken heart at the end of the season, and when high school began, he said he would not try out for the team.
We set up a home gym for him to continue being active, and then recently he became interested in running. It led him to meet with a coach and ask if he would be allowed to join the track team.
I had no idea my son was going to do this. He did it on his own and I could not be more in awe of his bravery, strength and resilience. But some days the weight of him having to be so resilient feels like it will overtake me.
I can’t see the brighter side every day, and that is okay too. I am scared for my kids in this world, especially my son and especially after the election. But we exist and live in this world, no matter who is pulling the strings — so now I have to start running, literally, because my son has started to train.
He ran several miles after getting the news at school that he could not be on the school track team, but he is not going to stop doing what he wants because of this setback. Do I think he is hurt? Yes. Do I want to cuss out everyone at his high school?Let’s just say that would be a fantastic start.
Is he giving up? No. So I can’t give up either, because he needs my support. His determination reminds me why we voted in the first place — because we all deserve to exist, with autonomy over our own bodies and with the freedom to authentically be who we are in safe spaces.
We have to keep running toward a better future, and I am fighting to keep my heart and intentions positive because I know we all deserve one filled with safety, love, autonomy and peace. So here we go. Together. I love you.
Sylvie Trevena is passionate about inclusivity, diversity, mental health and acts of service. Outside of “mom,” she is most proud of being called a writer.
Watermark reached out to other LGBTQ+ and ally voices across Central Florida and Tampa Bay who asserted the community is “Not Helpless. Not Alone.” Read more here.
