I sympathised with gender-critical campaigners – until my nephew came out as trans

In the last 18 months, I have experienced a powerful and precious thing – a sincere change of mind. In 2017, my nephew came out as transgender. Although I was in some ways supportive, changing pronouns and the name I called him, inside I found it challenging and hoped this "phase" would pass.

The idea that you could be "born in the wrong body", as some people frame it, or that your consciousness could be gendered, or that you could physically change your body to match your mind was far beyond my understanding and my experience of life. The rise in prominence of transgender voices awoke in me what I thought at the time was a protective rejection of a new “woke” orthodoxy, but what I now see was simply the same deep-rooted conservatism that has made human beings resistant to change throughout so much of our history.

At first, I sought out stories about de-transitioning and regret, I read the obscure paper on the so-called "Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria", a popular term in gender-critical circles used to dispute the identities of transgender people. I read everything I could find that validated my instinct that the increase in transgender identity was a millennial fad, mental health issues, trauma, social contagion, fashion, patriarchy, you name it, I clutched at it. However, I did not join in the public debates because I had a family connection to a child I adore and a sister, his mother, who I love beyond words. Instead, I stayed quiet, I watched and I waited, I saw my nephew thrive, I met many wonderful trans people who simply wanted to live their lives, I listened, and I learned, a lot. Over time my views changed.

As well as my growing understanding of trans people, by taking a step back from the freneticism of the "trans debate", the contradictions in the trans-sceptic arguments became more apparent to me. On trans children, I started to struggle with reconciling the arguments that the increasing numbers of trans boys coming out was due to misogyny in our society, yet the increasing number of trans girls was despite the same misogyny. The argument is that girls feel so worthless that they opt to be boys, yet when talking about trans girls, this argument disappeared in an instant.

Another example is the debate about when someone should be legally recognised as their non-biological gender. Gender-critical campaigners are fighting to ensure that the government insists on medical, not just social, transition for gender identity to be legally recognised. They simultaneously accuse trans activists and even parents of trans children of “shunting them” down a medical route. This is both wildly different from the lived experience of these families, who tread carefully, sensitively, and cautiously with their children, as well as deeply hypocritical by the gender-critical campaigners who both insist on medical transition, whilst also condemning it. Again, trans people cannot win.

The final end to my sympathy for gender-critical campaigners was the collective punishment approach to trans women. All trans women are held accountable for any misdemeanour by any trans woman. This is the very epitome of prejudice. “You cannot share our toilets, you cannot share our spaces, because you might be all the same.” It is a heart-breaking act of cruelty towards trans women and is reminiscent of the very worst of the American deep south attitudes towards racial integration.

My sister has said to me right from the start that this is not a free speech issue but an issue of kindness and humanity towards a group of people who are mocked and maligned daily. She would never argue that JK Rowling and Piers Morgan do not have the right to say what they think about trans identity, but would simply ask them to think about the impact of what they are saying when, for example, they mock inclusive language about menstruation, on an already very marginalised group. Instead of mocking the idea of tampon dispensers in male bathrooms, think of the trans boys and men whose lives would be made a tiny bit easier by this becoming standard. Something I now see as extremely sad about this debate is that decent high-profile people who could do so much good by standing with trans people are instead making their lives harder.

This month, we saw the death of the great Irish peacemaker, John Hume. Hume said, “Difference is the essence of humanity. Difference is an accident of birth, and it should therefore never be the source of hatred or conflict. Therein lies a most fundamental principle of peace: respect for diversity.” I now hold this quote as a challenge to myself, and to us all.

We may not understand each other, we may not always feel comfortable with each other, but the peaceful coexistence of difference is humanity’s greatest goal, and where it happens, it is our greatest achievement. Seeing this issue unfold within my own family taught me a profound lesson: the importance of humility in the face of something you do not understand. I am now a full trans ally, a proud aunt to a courageous 14-year-old boy, and a proud sister to his trailblazing mother who has become one of the most vocal campaigners for kindness and understanding for trans children in the UK. I now see trans acceptance as a civil rights issue, and I hope more and more people will stand with trans people in this fight.

Nora Mulready is co-director of an advocacy charity in London