Telling my Mother of my transition was one of the hardest things I have ever done. In the same way that I made a hash of telling friends and my brothers, I left it unforgivably late. It almost broke her. It wasn’t deliberate but my procrastination/reticence meant I dropped the news the same week she was due to move home. Stressful much? In one fell swoop I torpedoed her world as she knew it. She was leaving a home she loved, had just lost a son and life as a family was never going to be the same again. Put away the violins. This is not a sad post. My Mum is the most fantastic woman I have ever known. She’s still human and went through all the stages of grief you can imagine. I have to say, that’s completely to be expected. Anything less is naive. Even if she wanted a daughter, she didn’t want it to be me. Her Firstborn son. But as Mums do, she somehow got over it pretty quickly and her anger and confusion dissipated. She has been amazingly supportive and a constant source of strength. She is also the link to my estranged brothers and likely the one thing that will bring us back together eventually. As I am welling up I am going to finish this post. But Yay! for Mums in general. We’d be nowhere without them.