Affirmed by Assumption

There’s something quietly beautiful in the moments when people assume. Not out of carelessness, but out of kindness. When the world reflects back the person you are, without needing an explanation or a caveat, it hits a little deeper than most people realise.

Last week, I took my daughter to the NHS walk-in centre. Nothing dramatic, just one of those typical parenting errands we all end up doing, and a deep sigh of “here we go.” As we entered the examination room, the nurse looked at me and asked, “Are you Mum?”

It was instinctive. She didn’t even think twice, just saw a parent, with a daughter, and presumed me to be Mum. I smiled and gently corrected her, “No, I’m Dad.”

And here’s the thing: the surprise didn’t sting. If anything, it warmed me. She wasn’t being rude, quite the opposite. She saw me, as I am, and made an assumption that aligned with how I present, not necessarily how I sound. Of course, my voice gave it away, it usually does. That lingering remnant of testosterone still clings to my vocal cords like an awkward shadow. But I wasn’t embarrassed to correct her. I said it proudly. Because yes, I am a female, and yes, I am a dad. The two aren’t mutually exclusive. And that’s okay.

Then, this morning, I went out to the garage to put some things away. One of the neighbours, a man I’ve only spoken to in passing, got out of his car and greeted me with a cheerful, “Morning, sweetheart!” It caught me off guard, in the best way. You don’t say that to blokes, do you?

These little moments aren’t small to me. They’re quiet confirmations. Gentle acknowledgements that I am seen. Not because I asked to be, not because I had to explain, but because I simply was. Affirmation isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it’s a softly spoken word or a well-meant assumption.

And in a world that often demands trans people (correct that, any person) to prove or justify their identities, it’s those accidental affirmations that hit the hardest. Because they remind you: you’re not invisible. You’re not out of place. You’re just… you.

And that’s enough.