This bed is a ship

This bed is a ship is a sporadically updated internet journal, 
a home for odd scraps of writing.

okay so this has been making the rounds.

it makes me a little uncomfy, because calling very public (read: internet) attention to the delicate identities of young children makes me worry, because how will he feel about this when he is 14 and trying to get a girlfriend or a boyfriend or whatever or just doesn’t want to be someone who was low-key famous on the internet. especially with the post title that makes such a strong identifying statement, even if it is qualified at the start of the post. and it is naive to not expect a boy in a girl’s outfit to be made fun of, especially in a church preschool. it sucks, but it is generally how things go.

all that said: I truly and intensely admire this woman’s unwavering support and love for her son. It’s beautiful, and ballsy, and what the world needs more of. I very nearly cried reading it.

At a family reunion over a year ago, I saw a bunch of little cousins from the Southern branch of my family, some of whom I hadn’t seen since their infancy. I can never keep track of them, it seems a blur of multiple marriages and tan children named after rural places. But one of them– I can’t even recall his name or which of these many women is his mother–is very clearly trans. Textbook. Super feminine, doesn’t like his name, and according to the Branca gossip mill has come to his mother crying, telling her he hates his penis and wishes he was a girl. I worry. I worry. I don’t know. I want to be there for this stranger, this child, I want him or her or whatever to know there are people who will understand, or if not understand then love him anyway. But I have seen this kid twice in the last several years, I’m not in contact, I am the strange Midwestern outcast of this sprawling family that I love so dearly. So instead, I jet thoughts south from my cold apartment, hoping somehow everything will be alright.
Sid Branca