theo

when i was younger, years pre-transition or even fully realizing i was trans, i met a distant cousin at our elementary school's afterschool program. we immediately bonded over our shared interest in all things dog-related. this cousin was a few years younger than me at the time, but we got along better than i did with any other kid in the program. i was devastated when my cousin's family moved away, something i'd never really experienced happening to a close friend of mine before.

we weren't closely related enough to see each other at family events- the adams side of the family uses "cousin" incredibly loosely, and in this case it belies several "by marriage" and "once removed" relatives between us.

i did find out that my cousin was diagnosed with ovarian cancer at about thirteen or fourteen years old and had to go through chemo. that was the only time we really spoke after all those years of separation, just a few texts to the effect of "hey i know it's been a while but i hope you're doing as okay as possible under these circumstances, let me know if you need anything" "it's great to hear from you! thanks, i'll let you know" and it ended there.

a while ago i saw my cousin on snapchat's quick add tab; the display name was the one from the contact in my phone, the same name i'd known when we were kids on the playground talking about our favorite dog breeds and all the funny things our own dogs had been doing. the username, however, was theo[last name], and the bitmoji showed a buzz cut not unlike my own.

i couldn't help but smile. my friend from so many years ago, one of the most genuine friendships i had during that time, had turned out to be like me.

i put this in the back of my mind until a few days ago, when i told my mother i was thinking of coming out to my father and sent her a draft of a letter i wanted to give to him. she knew i'd been using they/them for several months, and i told her i was bi before i left for college in the fall of my sophomore year, but seeing they/he in the letter was jarring for her, and we called and talked for a good part of the morning on sunday about it. 

it was all the expected "are you thinking about hrt?" yes, but i'm not sure it's a good idea to start it during this administration. "are you thinking about getting surgery?" not bottom surgery, but i've wanted top surgery for a long time but again, i don't know that i want anything on my body that marks me as distinctly, permanently, identifiably trans while this administration is in power. "are you thinking of changing your name?" much to her relief (she chose my name and i'm somewhat named after her) no, not at the moment. 

then she said, "you know, your cousin [theo's deadname] is trans."

i hadn't thought about theo in a long, long time, but in that moment i felt myself getting a little misty-eyed at the reminder of my old friend. theo is far from the first childhood friend of mine who's come out as queer or trans in the years that followed. but his story is special to me in that he's my family as well. 

"yeah, i knew," i said, "i saw his name on snapchat a few months ago."

and that was all we said about theo during that phone call.

but i've been thinking about him more and more since that. i only have one other queer relative on that side of the family (one distinctly inhospitable and even hostile to people like us) and they're a raging zionist so naturally, we don't talk. 

i want to reach back out to him. i want to see how he's doing with everything going on, see how he's doing after chemo, tell him he's not alone in the distress i'm sure he's feeling right now. i realized this morning that i never changed his name in the contact in my phone, and when i hit the "save" button, i smiled a little.

i'm so incredibly proud of theo, and i hurt for him deeply. i'm proud of him for having the courage to come out in a family where he likely thought he was the only trans person he'd ever see at even the largest family functions. i know how daunting that must have been for him, because it was enough to hold me back from doing so ever since i realized i was queer. and i hurt for him, for the fear i'm sure he felt doing that, and has been feeling since at least november. 

i wish we hadn't lost contact. if we'd stayed at the same school, or even if his family had moved sometime after everyone my age got cell phones, there's little doubt in my mind that he would've remained one of my closest friends. 

i think i'll text him later, just to see how he's doing. i'd like to catch up, hear about his life in the years since we last saw each other. how high school's been treating him, what he thinks of his classes and driver's ed (he must be about fifteen or sixteen by now) and all the growing pains of adolescence and trans adolescence in particular. 

i have no problem writing about him, but i wish i was better able to write something to him. 

something to say that i heard he's trans too, that i'm so incredibly sorry for what he must be going through right now, and that i hurt for him particularly deeply because i'm going through something similar myself. i want to tell him that i'm proud of him in a way i can't put into words. i want him to have the teenage years, that part of the growing up experience, that i sacrificed by remaining in the closet. i want him to know he has a cousin like himself willing to go to bat for him at family reunions full of trump acolytes.

i should talk to theo again.