THE ENDURING LOVE OF MY CHOSEN FAMILY
BY ZOOEY ZEPHYR
In August, I spent 10 days visiting my fiancée Erin and her son Andy in Maryland. Erin and I were celebrating our birthdays, and my soon-to-be stepson was about to start third grade. During my stay, Erin and I told Andy a series of collaborative bedtime stories: Erin would start, and whenever Andy wanted, he’d say “switch,” and I’d jump in to tell the next part of the story. Together we spun tales of siblings who defeated an oil dragon in a magical realm made of paint, solved puzzles in a world made of food, and more. On the night before the first day of school, the siblings had escaped from inside a giant cyclops, and as we tucked Andy into bed, we wondered aloud about what both the next story and the school year might hold.
“Thank you for loving me,” Erin said as we walked downstairs to savor the quiet hours between when Andy goes to bed and when we follow suit.
“Easiest thing I’ve ever done.” My standard response. A cute little ritual we started shortly after we’d found the courage to say, “I love you,” meant to express both the ease of our love and our gratitude for it.
I met Erin, a fellow activist, in February 2022 amid a moment of crisis for trans people. Texas’ governor had already ordered the department of family and protective services to investigate families who were suspected of providing gender-affirming care to their transgender children. Trans youth were not only at risk of losing access to their health care but also of
