Coming out is a rite of passage for many LGBTQIA+ people. Some don’t feel the need to make a big song and dance of it – it can be as simple as saying two words in passing – or even come out at all, but most of us will do it at least once.

When I came out as queer, it was very nonchalant, and completely unplanned. It was the 24th of January 2022 – the day I started dating my then-partner. I simply got into the car after school and, when my mum asked about my day, I told her: “I’m gay.” She smiled, looking back at me in the mirror, and replied: “I don’t care what you are, as long as you’re happy”.

That moment had me feeling like I could do anything. Like I could be anything. Because with her by my side, I was unstoppable.

Fast-forward to the 28th of April, 2023. The day I got my deed poll signed. As I emerged that day with a new name, I felt like a new me. At 17, I was legally allowed to do it on my own, but my mum wasn’t happy. She knew I was trans – it’s not like I had tried to hide it – but apparently changing my name was the last straw.

As far as I knew, she didn’t have a deep connection to my deadname, but still I was faced with cold glances, short, flat conversations, awkward silences. After about a week, I brought it up again, and received only a pursed lip, and a bemused “mm-hm”, before she went about getting ready for work. Suddenly, I felt small again. Like without my mum, I was nothing. It seemed like I had to make a choice: be myself, or have my mum’s approval.

I’m not alone. In fact, research from Just Like Us found that only 57% of transgender and non-binary young adults thought that their parents or carers would accept their identities, and that they were the least confident of all LGBTQIA+ identities that they would be accepted.

My situation was not ideal, but I knew I was more fortunate than some. Though she’d made her dislike of my actions clear, my mum still put a roof over my head and food on the table. I still had a place to call home. Sadly, many young trans people can’t say the same.