This First Person column is the experience of Kenzie Sproat, who lives in Regina. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, please see the FAQ.
I can still remember the nervous energy rolling off my dad when she first told me she was a woman.
It was the year after I had graduated high school when she called me into her room to show me a journal entry. In that entry, she confessed she was not the man I knew her to be, but rather a woman.
When I read that, it was the last thing I would have expected and I was filled with disbelief. But as I looked at her, I could see she had been trying to get the courage to tell me this for a while and I wanted to provide her reassurance.
“Cool,” I said.
“Cool?” she asked, surprised.
“That’s cool. That’s awesome,” I assured her.
While I wanted to be supportive, I initially struggled to wrap my head around the revelation. I simply didn’t understand. Here is my father, a person who never once in the first 19 years of my life showed any signs — or at least any obvious ones — of identifying with a different gender than was assigned at birth, telling me she is a woman.
For years, she had hid her femininity behind an obsession with Star Trek, a well-versed knowledge in mechanics and lawn care, and a well trimmed beard.
After she came out to me, she started wearing makeup and women’s clothing. And while she may have changed her appearance, I still saw her as the same person she always was and still call her my dad.
People sometimes wonder why I call her dad, but why shouldn’t I? I called her dad for the first 19 years of my life before she transitioned. And, most importantly, it doesn’t bother her. She and I — and many of the people closest to her — have removed the gendered connotations that usually come with words like dad.
Her name now is Kelsey. When I asked her why she chose the name Kelsey, she said she liked it. I guess it can be as simple as that. I like the name Kelsey, too, dad.
Living her truth
When my dad transitioned, she was 50. I have spoken with her about what made her wait so long to accept her identity, or to live her truth, as she puts it. She told me that for her entire life, she was assigned roles — the eldest son, the eldest grandson, the brother and the father. On top of feeling she had to adhere to the roles assigned to her, she was continuously told that her interests in makeup, women’s clothing and dolls were inappropriate.
“Boys don’t wear makeup.”
“Boys don’t wear dresses.”
“Why don’t you play with the cars?”
“Dolls are for girls.”
Little did these adults in her life know that she was a girl.
Kenzie Sproat says when her father first revealed she was a woman, she had a hard time wrapping her head around it. But she says now looking back, she can see the impact her dad has made on her in seeing the world free of gender.
After my dad showed me her journal entry, I asked her how she came to discover this truth about her identity. Kelsey told me she did so after uncovering many repressed memories and doing some intense self-reflection in therapy.
Kelsey has always had a prominent and active social media presence, and she has shared her story loud and proud for the world to hear. People reach out to her all the time to tell her she has helped them in accepting their own identity or accepting the identity of a loved one. Kelsey has told me this is what pushes her to continue to be open and vulnerable on the internet.
On her social media, she preaches a philosophy that I very much agree with — why gender things that do not need it? If a little boy wants to play with dolls, let him. If a little girl wants to play with cars, let her. As Kelsey’s daughter, this philosophy is also the philosophy that shaped me into the woman I am today.
It was very present in the way that Kelsey raised me. I have always been into so-called masculine things. I prefer to wear suits rather than dresses to fancy events. I loved Pokémon cards and video games growing up. I have always been friends with more boys than girls. I wanted to participate in track instead of dance.
These aspects of my personality do not make me any less of a woman. I can thank my dad for letting me grow up shamelessly living how I wanted to without feeling pressured to stick to feminine clothing and activity.
Until Kelsey, there were no people in my life who were transgender. I was aware of transgender people and had no problem with them, but I also never gave gender itself much of a thought. This is why we need more representation of transgender people in the media.
I am proud of Kelsey for being a part of that representation. I am proud of her and the influence she has in the transgender community.
I am proud to call her my dad.
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