To find oneself in existential motion through unfamiliar terrain: A phenomenological Reflective Lifeworld Research study of becoming a parent to a child expressing a transgender or gender diverse identity in Sweden

Abstract

Background

Parental support is a crucial protective factor for the well-being of transgender and gender diverse (TGD) children and youth. Yet, parents often undergo complex processes before reaching an affirming stance.

Aim

This is the first study to explore the experiences of Swedish parents to TGD children.

Methods

The study explored Swedish parents’ lived experiences of the phenomenon “becoming a parent to a child expressing a TGD identity” using a Reflective Lifeworld Research (RLR) approach to capture the essence of the phenomenon. Twenty-eight cisgender parents from nineteen families across Sweden participated in in-depth lifeworld interviews.

Results

The essence of the phenomenon was to find oneself in existential motion through unfamiliar terrain, further detailed by three constituents: (1) The unsettling of gendered familiarity, (2) Seeking certainty in uncertainty, and (3) Self-reflection and shifting relationships.

Discussion

The phenomenon was shaped by cisnormative assumptions, triggering emotional dissonance and conflicting emotions, yet also of hope and recognition. The results highlighted the emotional labor required to support the children while managing internal tensions, as well as the potential for personal gender reflection, understanding, and expression of gender. These findings expand previous international research by emphasizing relational and existential dimensions and by adding experiences from a Swedish context.

Conclusion

The study underscores the need for enhanced knowledge about gender diversity, clearer guidelines, and accessible and reflective support systems for parents, fostering space also for emotional processing, relational negotiation, and identity work in the light of cisnormativity. Such systems are vital for promoting the health and resilience of both TGD children, youth, and their families.

Introduction

Parents of children and youth who disclose a transgender or gender diverse (TGD) identity often undergo a complex emotional, cognitive and relational process before they can fully support their child (Abreu et al., 2019; Warner et al., 2021). Parental support is one of the most important protective factors mitigating the negative mental health consequences of minority stress in TGD children and youth (Durwood et al., 2021; Gower et al., 2018; Grossman et al., 2021; Tankersley et al., 2021; Veale et al., 2017). Despite growing recognition of the importance of parental support, the lived experiences of parents remain underexplored, particularly outside of U.S. contexts (Abreu et al., 2019; Warner et al., 2021). As cultural, political, and organizational conditions differ between countries, this study, being the first conducted in Sweden, makes a valuable contribution. Sweden is often regarded as a progressive country regarding gender and LGBTQ+ issues (ILGA-Europe, n.d.; OECD, 2017), with long-standing policies on anti-discrimination, gender equality, and family support. Research in this area can help identify unmet needs and inform more supportive clinical, educational, and policy practices.

In previous research parents have described various initial reactions to their child expressing a TGD identity (Bhattacharya et al., 2021; Pullen Sansfaçon et al., 2020; Warner et al., 2021). Some parents immediately met their child’s identity with openness and pride, viewing gender diversity as a natural variation. Others were surprised but remained open to understanding or viewed their children’s gender identity as a passing phase in normal child development. Yet others struggled with disbelief, doubting the authenticity of their children’s experience (Bhattacharya et al., 2021; Pullen Sansfaçon et al., 2020; Warner et al., 2021). Some parents have allowed their children to express their gender identity at home but limited the time, place, and type of gender diverse behaviors elsewhere (Warner et al., 2021).

The realization of the child’s consistency over time can make hesitant parents shift toward acceptance, but it can also trigger feelings of guilt, and fear of having caused the child’s gender identity by errors in parental style or a lack of proper role models (Bhattacharya et al., 2021; Warner et al., 2021). Parents’ emotional distress has consistently been mentioned in previous research, foremost about their TGD children’s future health, safety and social acceptance, but worry about risks or regret of future gender-affirming medical interventions have also been reported (Abreu et al., 2019; Warner et al., 2021).

Additionally, some parents have experienced a grieving process sensing a loss of the child they thought they had (Abreu et al., 2019; Bhattacharya et al., 2021; Pullen Sansfaçon et al., 2020; Wahlig, 2015). Some researchers have used a framework of dual ambiguous loss to understand parents’ grief, confusion, and meaning-making (Norwood, 2013; Wahlig, 2015) about their child’s social transition, such as when the child changed their name, pronoun and/or gender expressions. Parents could experience their child as physically still present, while psychologically changed (e.g. no longer existent as the gender the parent knew their child as) or as still existent as the same person but psychologically with a changed (gendered) body/expression, which caused them to process if they still really had the same child (Norwood, 2013; Wahlig, 2015). This kind of framework has been pointed out as problematic since it risks placing the “problem” on the TGD child rather than on the norms causing such feelings (Riggs & Bartholomaeus, 2018). Rather than framing a TGD child as a “loss” to their parents, Riggs and Bartholomaeus (2018) argue that parents do not lose a child, but they lose the privileges and certainties afforded by a cisnormative society. The “loss” some parents feel is therefore better understood as a “loss of certitude,” a fall from the privilege of assuming their child’s gender would be unchallenged in society (Riggs & Bartholomaeus, 2018).

The various negative emotions triggered in parents have also been described as proximal minority stress factors (i.e. internal stressors triggered by broader societal stigma) (Hidalgo & Chen, 2019; Meyer, 2003). The level of parents’ stressful emotions, as well as knowledge about gender diversity, have been shown to facilitate or hinder acceptance and affirmation of the child’s gender identity (Brammer et al., 2024). Concealing various negative emotions while trying to maintain a supportive stance toward their children requires that parents do emotional labor (Bhattacharya et al., 2021). The concept of emotional labor (Hochschild, 1979) refers to the regulation and management of one’s own emotions to support the well-being of others, for example showing a smiling face when feeling something else inside, to not worry or offend others. This form of emotional work can be exhausting, particularly when a persistent dissonance exists between one’s genuine feelings and the emotions expected by social norms (Jeung et al., 2018; Shankar & Kumar, 2014). In the context of parenting a TGD child, Bhattacharya et al. (2021) have highlighted how emotional labor often involves both parents and TGD children withholding negative emotions to shield one another. However, the concept has primarily been applied in research on the lived experiences of TGD individuals themselves—children (Tyni et al., 2024), adolescents (Tyni et al., 2025), and adults (Linander et al., 2019; Lundberg et al., 2022)—where it has been found to play a significant role.

Within cisgender male–female parenting dyads, differences in parenting roles have been linked to increased tension, particularly when parents hold divergent views or approaches to supporting their child’s TGD identity (Abreu et al., 2019; Bhattacharya et al., 2021; Brammer et al., 2024; Powell et al., 2025; Pullen Sansfaçon et al., 2020). Fathers are often found to be slower to accept or affirm their child’s identity (Bhattacharya et al., 2021), especially in cases where the child was assigned male at birth (Warner et al., 2021). However, when parents collaborate and support each other through the process, their partnership may strengthen (Bhattacharya et al., 2021).

In sum, previous research highlights that parents of TGD children and youth often navigate complex emotional journeys, influenced by individual, relational, and societal factors (Abreu et al., 2019; Bhattacharya et al., 2021; Brammer et al., 2024; Hidalgo & Chen, 2019; Powell et al., 2025; Pullen Sansfaçon et al., 2020; Schimmel-Bristow et al., 2018). Their experiences can lead them to shift and expand their understanding of gender and reevaluate their parenting and family relations (Bhattacharya et al., 2021; Powell et al., 2025).

This study aimed to explore the lived experiences of the phenomenon of “becoming a parent to a child who expresses a TGD identity” in a Swedish context. The focus is on how parents made sense of and related to their child’s gender identity, and to their own role as a parent, during the early phases of this journey. The concept of “becoming” is used here to emphasize the open-ended, situated, and affectively charged nature of how parents related to their children and themselves.

Method

This study was part of a larger project including TGD children and youth, aged 4-16, and their parents, who were interviewed separately. Ethical approval was granted by the Swedish Ethical Review Authority (Dnr 2020-01854). This article only included data from the parents; the data from the children and youth have been published elsewhere (Tyni et al., 2024, 2025).

Research approach and epistemology

The research approach of Reflective Lifeworld Research (RLR) (Dahlberg et al., 2008) has been applied throughout this study. It is grounded in the philosophical tradition of phenomenology, as formulated by Husserl and his central ideas about essences (Husserl, 1931), but has been adapted for empirical research purposes (Dahlberg, 2006; Dahlberg et al., 2008). RLR is phenomenon-oriented, focusing a specific phenomenon throughout the whole research process, from data collection to analysis. This means that it is not primarily concerned with studying demographic groups or subjects in themselves, but rather with the essential meaning structure (i.e. the essence) of a particular lived experience: those core qualities that make the phenomenon what it is (Dahlberg, 2006). In this way, the phenomenon is not the topic per se. Instead, the focus is the lived reality of the phenomenon as it appears in the consciousness of those who experience it, and the meaning they give to it. RLR has been applied within the caring sciences to investigate complex existential issues, such as “loneliness” (Dahlberg, 2007) and “existential concerns” (Lundvall et al., 2019). With its phenomenological grounding suitable for capturing the evolving and emotionally complex process parents undergo, it was chosen over other more structured or theme-driven methods where existential and relational nuances might be flattened. RLR: s focus on the first-person perspective, lived experience, and meaning-making makes it particularly suitable for exploring the nuances and situated ways in which individuals make sense of their lives, especially when navigating identity in contexts shaped by social norms and expectations. In this study the phenomenon is “becoming a parent to a child who expresses a TGD identity” from the perspective of Swedish parents.

A central epistemological point to phenomenology is the notion of the lifeworld in which we all live our daily lives in a natural attitude, meaning a spontaneous, unreflective way of being where we often take things for granted. To approach a phenomenon in a scientific way, RLR posits that the researcher instead must adopt a phenomenological, reflexive attitude characterized by openness, flexibility, and bridling (Dahlberg et al., 2008). Bridling refers to a methodological restraint where the researcher continuously postpones definitive interpretations and instead returns to the phenomenon with reflexive questions, such as, “Why do I understand it in this way? Could it mean something else?” This stance ensures that understanding remains open and flexible to the participants’ expressions rather than shaped prematurely by theory or assumptions (Dahlberg & Dahlberg, 2003). Data is co-created in the meeting between the reflexive researcher, the participant sharing their lived experience, and the phenomenon. Knowledge is thus not seen as residing within the individual alone but is arising in the interrelational space of the research encounter. The researcher’s role is to reflectively attend to what emerges through this interaction without imposing fixed interpretations during the interviews as well as when conducting the analysis. It is in the space between them that meaning can emerge and the essence can be found.

Reflexivity

The authors of this study have a combined professional experience, as psychologists and researchers, of conducting qualitative research and working clinically with TGD individuals, children, youth, and families. The research group also reflects diverse identities, with two members identifying as cisgender and one as nonbinary, and with a range of sexual orientations represented, including heterosexual, bisexual, and queer.

Our gender affirming stance emphasizes that gender identity is not necessarily tied to bodily appearance and recognizes TGD identities as part of the natural variation of human diversity. This view aligns with the guidelines from the American Psychiatric Association (APA, 2015) and the British Psychiatric Society (BPS, 2024), which assert that attempts to suppress or change a clients’ gender identity are unethical. We also adhere to the Convention of the Rights of the Child (1989), which is a law in Sweden, affirming every child’s right to be heard, respected, and recognized in their self-identified gender as well as The Swedish Discrimination Act (2008), which prohibits discrimination based on gender identity in education and employment.

Recruitment and data collection

Families with TGD children were recruited to the larger research project through an ad posted on various online platforms (e.g. Facebook groups for affirming and critical parents of transgender children, Swedish LGBTQ organizations, a municipal website for LGBTQ activities, and the authors’ social media networks). To be eligible, both the child and at least one parent had to participate. Interested families received detailed information and were able to ask questions via email by contacting the first author. Participation was confirmed by returning a signed informed consent form, after which interview dates were scheduled. From the parental data, only the parts concerning the phenomenon of becoming a parent to a child expressing a TGD identity have been included in the current study. Participants were not compensated for their participation in the study.

Lifeworld-interviews were held to describe the lived experiences of becoming a parent to a child who expresses a TGD identity. Twenty-four interviews including 28 parents were conducted between Oct 2020 and March 2023 in the families’ homes or digitally via Zoom due to great distances or parental preference. Twenty interviews were conducted one-on-one, and in the remaining four both parents were interviewed together, according to their choice. The tape-recorded interviews lasted between 24 and 74 min (M: 49 min) and were thereafter transcribed verbatim and anonymized to protect participants’ confidentiality. Before the interviews, participants received a verbal recap of the research information, and demographic data was collected (e.g. gender identity and pronoun, level of education, ethnicity, and marital status).

The purpose of interviewing in RLR, as in other qualitative approaches, is to get “thick” descriptions of nuanced internal states and reactions. This is facilitated by creating a safe and open environment so that participants can express themselves freely. However, RLR, distinguishes itself by allowing the chosen phenomenon to guide the entire interview process rather than following a structured or semi-structured format based on predetermined themes. This reflects RLR:s ethical commitment to deeply respecting and empowering participants, allowing them to decide what aspects of their lived experiences they want to share. It also maximizes space for the unexpected, with the interviewer being open, flexible and refraining from asking predetermined questions, which could possibly limit the conversation. The interviews began with an open-ended question: “What are your experiences of being (a) parent(-s) to X in relation to X: s gender identity?” From there, participants chose their narratives, while the interviewer (KT) ensured that the content remained connected to the phenomenon, and asked clarifying, concretizing or emotionally deepening follow-up questions such as, “Could you give me an example of that?” or “How did that feel for you?.”

Participants

This study included 18 mothers and 10 fathers from 19 families. All identified as cisgender and were parents to a TGD child or teen aged 4-16 years (identifying as a binary gender: n = 17, or nonbinary/gender fluid: n = 2). By parent we refer to the child’s legal guardian, who also practices the primary parenting and caregiving responsibilities, no matter their genetic connection. The participants lived across Sweden, in both urban and rural areas. All but two had a university education. Three participants were born and raised in other European countries. Thirteen participants were married/engaged/cohabiting, three participants had divorced (with joint custody between parents), and three participants had sole custody for different reasons.

Analysis

Data were analyzed inductively to reveal the essential meaning of the phenomenon “becoming a parent to a child who expresses a transgender or gender diverse identity,” following the RLR approach (Dahlberg et al., 2008).

The first step in the analysis process began with repeated readings of the interview transcripts to identify meaning units consisting of segments with content related to the phenomenon in each participant’s narrative. The underlying meanings of these units were then reflected upon and written down, with careful attention to remaining open, flexible, and close to participants’ own language. Meaning units that revealed shared experiential qualities were grouped together into clusters of meaning, allowing the emergence of patterns (see Table 1 for an example). The process thus far resembles other qualitative methods, such as thematic analysis or grounded theory in its outer structure but differs by its focus on underlying meaning rather than content in these steps. Through a reflexive and iterative process of moving back and forth between the parts (individual meaning units and clusters) and the whole (the overall dataset) these clusters were gradually abstracted into the formulation of the essence, a description of shared meaning across all participants’ lived experiences.

Table 1.

An example of the initial analysis process from meaning units to being part of a cluster.

Meaning units	Underlying meanings	Clusters
“My first thoughts were: how can such a young child know? How do you know if it’s serious you know? But I realize that somehow, they do know, yes, in some way they know. Many children play of course, but a game doesn’t usually go on every day for a whole year, around the clock, so to speak”	The child’s determination over time convinced the parent of the authenticity of the child’s gender identity	Experiences of genuine realization of the child’s gender identity
“Like I said, it really has always felt like the right thing to do. Um, and especially when we started calling her ‘she’ and ‘sweetie’ and so on – she gave us so much affirmation in return. She said, ‘Oh, daddy, you said it right!’ and her eyes would sparkle. So that really made it feel like we were doing the right thing. I: How did it feel when you saw her reaction? R: Oh, it felt really good, you get emotional (teary-eyed), and…yeah, just positive.”	Witnessing the significance of recognition for the child was experienced as emotionally touching, affirming that following the child’s wish was the right thing to do

In line with the RLR tradition, the results are presented by first describing this essence to provide a holistic, though initially abstract, understanding of how the phenomenon was lived “as a whole.” This is followed by a more concrete and detailed presentation of the essential parts constituting the essence, the constituents, supported by participants’ quotations to illustrate how the shared meaning is grounded in lived experience.

The analysis was primarily conducted by the first author (KT), with ongoing discussions with the last author (ASB) to ensure reflexivity and trustworthiness throughout the process.

Results

The results section begins with an overall description of the essence of the phenomenon. This part may feel more abstract than what readers are used to, but the reporting of the results in RLR-studies starts by describing the deeper, shared meaning that runs through all participants’ experiences. Beginning with this broader, abstract picture, the essence helps capture how the phenomenon was lived “as a whole.” The three following parts constituting the essence, the constituents, then give more detailed and concrete descriptions and examples through quotations that bring this shared meaning of the phenomenon to life.

The essence of becoming a parent to a child who expresses a TGD identity is to find oneself in existential motion through unfamiliar terrain, a movement that begins not by choice, but through meeting the unexpected and sometimes unknown within what was once known and taken for granted. The ground beneath everyday life shifts as gender no longer aligns with previous maps of meaning. This motion is not linear or predictable but unfolds as a deeply personal and relational process marked by emotional complexity, ethical and normative questioning, and transformative potential. It emphasizes ongoingness, a dynamic state rather than a discrete act or direction and can be experienced as being existentially disoriented, of being set in motion by a phenomenon that exceeds one’s control or prior understanding, rather than choosing to move. The motion is less about an intentional or goal-directed act and more about being carried by a process, something unfolding that one is involuntarily immersed in.

The familiar lifeworld, for example, the child once imagined, the language once used, the roles silently lived, come to feel queer. In this unfamiliarity, one is faced with previously unconscious assumptions, unquestioned cultural norms, and with the limits of one’s understanding. This is not merely a cognitive experience but a lived experience that touches identity, belonging, love, and vulnerability. The motion may bring about resistance, conflict, sorrow, or fear, but also awe and new dimensions of emotional and existential closeness to one’s child, oneself, and the co-parent, where the child’s authenticity becomes both a challenge and a guiding light through uncertainty.

What emerges is not a replacement of one certainty with another, but a way of being that is less about knowing and more about accompanying. The parent’s role becomes one of attunement rather than solving the puzzle. In this motion, trust can begin to replace control, and presence begin to matter more than prediction. The terrain remains uncertain, but the orientation may shift from fear of the unknown to an openness toward what is emerging. This is a becoming-in-relation, where both child and parent are potentially transformed, not into something new and fixed, but into something more responsive to the unfolding of human complexity.

The following three constituents further detail the central aspects of the essence of the phenomenon: (a) The unsettling of gendered familiarity, (b) Searching for certainty in uncertainty, and (c) Self-reflection and shifting relationships.

The unsettling of gendered familiarity

The experience of becoming a parent to a child who expresses a TGD identity meant that previous understandings of gender got unsettled to different degrees. The terrain one thought one knew turned into something unknown, sometimes very unexpectedly. The unsettling could then be experienced as a sudden rupture, a shocking revelation that one’s child’s experience of self, did not align with the gendered assumptions one unconsciously carried:

It’s big, but it’s not as big as I experienced it to be the first few months, when it felt like I was falling apart because it was such a-, catastrophe is an exaggeration, but it was such a bomb in the family, like ‘What?’, like ‘What’s happening now? How do we do this now? What’s happening?’ (Mother of a 15-year-old teen)

It could also be experienced as a more gradual process, especially if the child had expressed their TGD identity from a very early age. Visual or other clues that the child does not adhere to gender norms, could serve as a more or less unconscious emotional preparation leading to a smoother shift in perspective. The unsettling could also mean something surprisingly positive, giving a glimpse of a previously unknown and hopeful perspective on gender diversity:

Yeah, but this security he has in his identity, and he has no gender dysphoria, like, he is completely, like-, how does this fit together, like, that he is completely comfortable in his body, at least right now. We have a little worry for the future, but right now there’s no trace of that. It’s so wonderful to see that X is so incredibly secure in this. And for us-, I kind of end up thinking, yeah, maybe he represents something I haven’t heard of before, like this complete freedom. I think it’s fascinating, yeah, so that’s positive. (Father of a 10-year-old)

No matter how parents got acquainted with the phenomenon, it was experienced as a movement away from the familiar which required an engagement with a reality one had not anticipated, perhaps not even heard of, or denied the existence of. The unsettling thus brought into focus the limits of one’s prior knowledge or preconceptions, such as assuming that “transgender” is about (binary) crossdressing and outward expressions, or that it is due to puberty or sexuality, rather than an intrinsic, deeply felt sense of self, possible also for a child to feel.

The unsettling that the phenomenon brought, meant a lived experience of deep emotional complexity. Nagging feelings of guilt could be triggered by questioning if one’s mode of upbringing, as either too gender-normative or too unrestricted and tolerant, may have influenced or even caused the child’s gender identity. Worries about (future) exposure, pubertal mental health issues, and access to or consequences of future gender-affirmative care commonly arose, with negative social or political climates adding further anxiety.

The concern is more about X’s mental well-being, so it’s really about that, and the fear of not getting access to hormone treatment later and having to go through puberty – what would that mean? Because she won’t pass [be read by others as her gender identity] anymore. She won’t feel comfortable in her body, and you start imagining her just lying at home, feeling terrible, even suicidal, yes, that it’s a matter of life and death. (Mother of a 11-year-old)

Emotional aspects of the unsettling experience of having a child expressing a TGD identity could also mean mourning the loss of expectations one had unknowingly formed about who the child is and will become. This grief could arise, for example, when the birth name parents had chosen for their child was changed or when there were no longer photos of the child before the transition hanging on the walls.

And that was something she had already decided when she told us she was trans – she said ‘I want to be called X’, so she was clear about that. And that was probably what made me most sad in the beginning because I felt like, you know, you choose a name for your child, and-, yeah. But then, I saw this really beautiful drawing of a mother with a child, and it said, ‘When you were little and didn’t have a voice, we gave you a name. Now you are grown and have a voice and can choose your own name’. And that-, yeah, that really helped me, actually. Otherwise, I mean, I hear from others that many grieve over this, and I did too, but now I can accept it. (Mother of a 15-year-old)

The unsettling also meant navigating the tensions between wanting to support the child’s gender identity and create a safe environment, while trying to hide one’s own emotional turmoil to not burden the child with more emotional weight than they already had from challenging the societal gender norms.

In summarizing this constituent of the essence, the unsettling of gendered familiarity was experienced as a destabilization of the familiar, being confronted with a reality that disrupted and questioned prior understandings of gender and norms. Whether it came as a sudden rupture or a gradual shift, it challenged previous assumptions and brought forth emotional and cognitive dissonance that parents tried not to impose on their children.

Searching for certainty in uncertainty

Becoming a parent to a child who expresses a TGD identity also meant navigating questions of what the child’s gender identity signified, which motivated a process of searching for answers and meaning in the midst of uncertainty. This could be experienced as a continuous struggle to make sense of the child’s self-understanding within existing frameworks of interpretation, such as biological, psychological, social, or societal. These included theories of a developmental phase in childhood or puberty that will pass, or something inherent in the child’s genetics, a sign of future homosexuality, or that gender identity is shaped by external influences such as peer groups, social media, or even environmental or medical factors, such as chemicals or vaccines. It could be stressful, if one’s own struggles with doubt were overshadowed by the expectation to quickly affirm and support the child in a social transition.

It could be due to hormones. I wasn’t completely comfortable in my body when it started developing female features. But how can you know that you’re not a girl? Can’t you have your own definition of what a girl is? And now-, now she has found a home in some way. She found her flock in this. She has made new friends who are like her, and that is a good thing, but it’s sad that she walks around thinking there is something wrong with her. I think one should be able to feel, ‘I’m fine just as I am, and this is a process, and it’s development’ (Mother of a 15-year-old)

The search of information for answers and guidance included fact-based websites online, social media groups with other parents in similar situations, and health care. Still, the information was often vague or contradictory, even from experts within gender-affirming care:

Those from [gender-affirming care], they advised against it. They thought that a social transition shouldn’t be done. So, at first, I thought, ‘Yeah, well, I guess I’ll listen to them, They’re the experts.’ But then I changed my mind and thought, ‘No, but isn’t it better to just be who you are and be respected for it? (Mother of a 14-year-old)

The attempts to categorize and locate the child’s experience served as a way to regain a sense of understanding, stability and control. When existing frameworks proved insufficient and information was contradictory it could be experienced as being stuck in ambivalence between belief and skepticism, between trust and hesitation that delayed the child’s wish for a social transition:

I’m curious about what’s going on inside and how it’s going to develop, because if this is a phase, then half of her life has been a phase, and she really hasn’t expressed anything else. Sure, she’s been able to talk since she was really little, but it wasn’t until she was two years old that she could actually express that she was a boy, and she’s been saying that ever since. She’s said multiple times, ‘When will my penis grow?’ And yeah, it’s hard to explain that it’s not going to grow out on its own, but we try to be really clear that she can be exactly who she wants to be. At the same time, maybe we should listen to her more and say ‘he’ instead, or-, we do treat her as a boy. We don’t try to force her into dresses, we don’t try to make her wear panties or buy dolls or anything like that; she gets to be a boy in that way as much as she wants. But pronouns, I don’t know. But like I said, maybe it doesn’t have to be such a big deal? (Father of a 4-year-old)

Adjusting one’s language and pronouns could feel like a natural and smooth process but could also feel awkward and take time to get used to. It could even be felt as an ongoing frustration toward one’s own child and other youths expressing a TGD identity when convictions were disturbed that one was not prepared to reevaluate.

The search for certainty in uncertainty also meant an ongoing negotiation between affirmation of the child’s gender identity in the present and the possibility of future changes through re-transition(-s). This could be experienced as a lingering worry if one had made the right decision in supporting the child’s social transition:

I think as time goes on, you get to be a little more different. I mean, at our age, you’ve found out who you are, you’re with the people you like, and maybe you get to be different, with other people who are different too. But if you’re trying to fit into school with just a few friends, it’s obviously not so easy to find yourself there. And all teenagers are searching, they don’t know who they are. So. I’m really scared that if he now goes through the whole transition, becomes a boy, gets hormones, has surgery and everything, and then comes out on the other side at 25-30 years old and goes, ‘Yes, now I’m a guy!’- I just hope that feeling will still be there. And that it doesn’t turn into, ‘No, I’m still not really normal, or like everyone else,’ or ‘No, maybe I was just a little different.’ That’s something I really worry about. (Mother of a 15-year-old)

When a deeper emotional understanding took place in the relationship between the child and the parent, a move could happen from uncertainty or even improbability, to an emotionally grounded position where the child’s gender identity was felt as an intrinsic part of the child’s being. The search for certainty in uncertainty could then be lived as a gradual shift from questioning, doubt and ambivalence to genuine recognition, where the child’s prolonged insistence and tangible emotional relief and impact of affirmation on the child’s well-being served as game-changers.

Like I said, it really has always felt like the right thing to do. Um, and especially when we started calling her ‘she’ and ‘sweetie’ and so on – she gave us so much affirmation in return. She said, ‘Oh, daddy, you said it right!’ and her eyes would sparkle. So that really made it feel like we were doing the right thing. (Father of a 6-year-old)

The child’s insistence and positive emotional responses initiated a gradual release, a loosening of the need for certainty, and led to acceptance and recognition of the child’s gender identity. A shift took place, from seeking fixed answers to embracing a stance of responsiveness and support in recognizing that one’s parental role was not to impose certainty but to allow space for one’s child’s self-exploration. This was experienced as a letting-go of the need for definitive answers and moving to a more intuitive responsiveness to the child, beyond societal expectations or external evidence. This shift was not merely cognitive but deeply felt through an attunement to the child’s evolving reality that called for presence rather than control. What had once been hesitation or resistance could transform into a deeper trust, where the focus was no longer on defining gender with a finality but on witnessing and supporting the child’s becoming. In this way, the search for certainty in uncertainty was lived as a shift from external validation to an internalized trust in the child’s sense of self, still allowing space for change and prioritizing their child’s immediate well-being over the need for definitive answers.

Ultimately, this constituent of the essence could be lived as a continuous questioning characterized by ambivalence or frustration but also as a movement toward a more flexible, present-focused approach to gender variation which, like all aspects of selfhood, might continue to unfold in unexpected ways.

Self-reflection and shifting relationships

Becoming a parent to a child who expresses a TGD identity also involved a process of self-reflection. It meant being challenged to see not only the child in a new light, but also oneself. Even when consciously holding inclusive values and an awareness of gender diversity, the phenomenon could still be emotionally challenging when it involved one’s own child. It might unsettle the self-image, especially if it brought previously unconscious values to the surface and triggered feelings of shame.

When I was feeling sad in the beginning, I could also get frustrated with myself for reacting that way. Because it was like, ‘Okay, I think all trans people and all LGBTQ people, and no matter what you are, like both skin color and identity, have every right to exist and be who they are, and then I react like this to my own child.’ It’s just so strange. As long as it exists, but not in my own house-, so that was a tough feeling too, that I reacted so strongly. (Mother of a 7-year-old)

The phenomenon thereby challenged the perception of gender on a deep level as well as how one’s personal background, upbringing, cultural and societal expectations through norms might have influenced it.

It feels like the climate is much more open now, with role models, both people who are gay and who are trans, and like, non-binary people. There are so many variations, and really, it’s nothing strange. These days, almost everyone knows someone [having a TGD identity], or knows of someone, or has some idea about someone, and it wasn’t like that when I was growing up. (Father to a 15-year-old)

As the self-reflective process unfolded it could lead to an expansion of previous understandings of gender norms, not only in relation to the child but also in how the parents viewed themselves and others. This could be sensed as a liberation from restricting gender norms in recognizing that gender is not as fixed or as binary as one once believed. It then opened for a more accepting attitude not only toward the child, but also toward others’ gender identities, roles and expressions, including one’s own. This could be lived as a transformative, humbling shift in perspective, realizing that one’s initial discomfort was rooted in societal conditioning rather than in any intrinsic truth.

I think I’ve become wiser, realizing that people can live in different ways, that you can-, I’ve changed how I see gender and gender roles a lot. Maybe I’ve become a bit humbler too, understanding that it’s not always so simple. And I think the [trans]people I’ve met are very accepting of being different. So, I guess I feel that-, sometimes I’ve felt like I should be more feminine than I am, but then, after spending more time with transgender people, I think, ‘Nah, I don’t care’ [laughs]. You don’t have to conform to so many norms. So, I think that’s pretty liberating. (Mother of a 14-year-old)

Becoming a parent to a child who expresses a TGD identity could not only shift one’s relationship to the child and to oneself but also affect the dynamics of the parental relationship. The phenomenon could bring to the surface differences in views on gender, timing of acceptance and opinions on which approach was needed. This could be experienced as a joint navigation strengthening the partnership, improving communication and deepening a feeling of shared commitment. The shifting relationship was then experienced as mutual growth from facing uncertainties, emotional processing and meeting external challenges together which reinforced the parent’s bond.

Yeah, but we’ve talked a lot, we kind of followed the same path, and then we’ve taken things together, like, ‘Should we change the name officially?’ ‘Yeah, we probably should, based on this and that,’ and we discuss things a lot. Like, ‘This sport is good, but this one he probably won’t be able to continue with as much since it will become gender-segregated later on.’ And, yeah, looking at both home and social situations, hobbies, and school. So, a bit like that, sort of in a pragmatic way-, what is possible, which sports are competitive, and how will the teams be divided? Those things are quite relevant. These are the kinds of things you must consider as a parent to a trans child, things to consider, and you have to be more in sync with each other. (Mother of a 9-year-old)

It could also be experienced as reinforcing tensions and could expose conflicting attitudes to the child’s TGD identity and parenting styles. Disagreements over how to support the child’s transition(-s), such as whether to affirm their chosen name and pronoun(-s), or if, when and how to engage with societal and medical institutions could feel exhausting and lead to prolonged conflict, separation, or even to a custody dispute.

Navigating resistance from the other parent or raising their child by themselves was sometimes experienced as lonely, especially when carrying the responsibility of affirmation and support without sharing daily burdens and joys with a co-parent. The experience could then lead to a forced independence in decision-making, requiring much resilience and emotional strength in the face of uncertainties and challenges. The need for support from other family members, close friends, and supportive communities was of great importance for all parents, but as a single parent, no matter by choice or not, it could be of even greater importance.

Ultimately, this aspect of the phenomenon’s essence was lived as a self-reflective process that shifted one’s perception on relationships. This enabled a possibility to embrace a more open approach to different aspects of gender, not only in relation to the child’s but also toward one’s own, others’ and in the parental relationship. It can also be lived as a struggle with unresolved tensions and destabilization. Regardless of the outcome, it meant continuously negotiating personal and relational shifts in response to the unfolding reality of the child.

Discussion

This study explored Swedish parents’ lived experiences of the phenomenon of “becoming a parent to a child who expresses a TGD identity,” using a RLR approach (Dahlberg et al., 2008). The essence of the phenomenon was to find oneself in existential motion through unfamiliar terrain, further detailed by the three constituents: (1) The unsettling of gendered familiarity; (2) Seeking certainty in uncertainty; (3) Self-reflection and shifting relationships. The results demonstrate considerable similarities but also some differences to previous international research.

Cisnormativity as an invisible framework

Initial reactions to the phenomenon of becoming a parent to a child expressing a TGD identity varied, yet a unifying thread across the data was how these experiences unsettled familiar understandings of gender shaped by a cisnormative context. Cisnormativity refers to the societal assumption that being cisgender is the default, natural, or expected state. Having a child who expresses a TGD identity unsettles this normative framework, challenging the societal expectations. The phenomenon included experiences of initial confusion, surprise or even shock when the child held an unexpected, or even unknown, gender identity. In line with earlier research (Bhattacharya et al., 2021; Morgan et al., 2023; Powell et al., 2025), many parents also expressed worry and sadness, particularly in relation to their child’s future safety, mental health, and social belonging. These emotional responses align with what Hildago & Chen (2019) identified as proximal minority stress factors, with implications for the well-being of cisgender parents of TGD children. Even among participants who held inclusive values, internal dissonance could arise in response to their own child’s disclosure, revealing how deeply cisnormative assumptions were internalized. As Riggs and Bartholomaeus (2018) have emphasized it is of importance to frame these reactions within the concept of cisgenderism (Riggs & Bartholomaeus, 2018) to not make the TGD child the “problem.” This enables a shift beyond individual psychology and situates parental reactions within a broader sociocultural context.

In contrast, when children asserted their TGD identities with confidence from an early age, some parents described the initial process as less stressful. In these cases, the phenomenon could be lived as something natural, and even positive. Some parents experienced that their children possibly represented a new, hopeful generation, comfortable in their identities, a state which is rarely described in relation to TGD identities (Beischel et al., 2021; Tyni et al., 2024, 2025; Wurm et al., 2024). The phenomenon then highlighted that both negative and positive aspects of the unsettling of familiarity were shaped by dominant cultural narratives.

Cisnormativity subtly, yet powerfully, framed parents’ expectations and understandings of gender. The urge to “make sense” of the child’s gender identity through biological, developmental, or social explanations can be interpreted as an attempt to reconcile the child’s reality with a cisnormative worldview. This search for familial frameworks, however, was not a neutral process but conditioned by the general absence of media reporting, and research about TGD lives. Consistent with earlier findings (Schimmel-Bristow et al., 2018; Warner et al., 2021), the adjustments of becoming a parent to a child expressing a TGD identity varied in how quickly parents moved from disbelief or confusion to an affirmative, supportive stance. In our study, limited prior knowledge about gender diversity most often meant an intensified struggle with preconceptions and prejudice. However, also unexpectedly smooth journeys with initial openness and low levels of emotional turmoil were experienced, despite a lack of formal knowledge. This suggests that other factors, such as personal experiences of other minority positions and/or personality traits, such as the need for control, cognitive flexibility and openness to experience, may also influence parents’ initial reactions and coping strategies.

In this way, cisnormativity not only shaped initial doubts and emotional reactions, but also impacted the ability to affirm one’s child, particularly in the early stages of disclosure and social transition. This is consistent with Brammer et al. (2024), who highlighted how levels of stress, knowledge, and internalized norms functioned as either facilitators or barriers to acceptance and affirmation. Sweden is a country often considered progressive on gender issues. Yet, our findings show that Swedish parents still navigate profound emotional and existential tensions, suggesting that progressive policy alone does not erase cisnormative assumptions or emotional challenges.

The emotional labor of parenting a TGD child

Another key contribution of this study is the uncovering of ongoing efforts to manage negative internal emotional states while presenting a supportive, affirming front to one’s child. This mirrors Hochschild’s (1979) concept of emotional labor, previously mentioned in a study by Bhattacharya et al. (2021) regarding parents to TGD children. Our findings emphasize that parents undertake this emotional labor in large due to cisnormative assumptions and ambiguous information about how to support TGD children as a parent, for example if they should support a social transition or not. This aspect of the phenomenon was experienced as challenging. Parents attempted to conceal feelings of confusion, sadness, worry, grief, and guilt to not lay emotional burden on their children, while also navigating uncertainty in their desire to foster a sense of stability and validation. This internal dissonance, experienced as emotional tension, demanded a continuous recalibration of emotional responses to remain present and supportive to their child. The emotional labor was particularly pronounced in the initial phase of the phenomenon, when dealing with uncertainty about the permanence of the child’s gender identity, enduring anxiety about future medical decisions and their availability, and worry over social rejection. Importantly, this effort was often undertaken in isolation or, if possible, within the partnership, pointing to a need for better support mechanisms and clearer guidance for parents who navigate emotional contradiction and informational ambiguity as they are raising a TGD child in a cisnormative society.

Parents’ own gender reflections and transformations

Another central finding in this study was the transformative effect the phenomenon could have on parents’ own understanding of gender and self. The phenomenon involved self-reflective insights when reassessing previous preconceptions and opening up to more flexible understandings of gender. This is in line with previous studies (Bhattacharya et al., 2021; Brammer et a., 2024; Morgan et al., 2023; Powell et al., 2025). While previous research, for example Brammer et al. (2024), has recognized that parents to TGD children confront and question cisnormative assumptions, our data suggest that this process also extended to personal gender reflection and performance, described as shifts in how participants understood their own gender expressions, gender roles, and their relational dynamics, not least in their partnerships, where tensions or alliances often reflected broader cultural struggles over gender norms. Brammer et al. (2024) framed this transformation through queer theory as a “trans-cending” of parenthood, where families are pulled into existential transitions alongside their children. While this metaphor resonates with our findings, the Swedish context adds a somewhat different tone: rather than transformation via political engagement, a quieter philosophical or emotional reorientation was also described, experienced as humbling, liberating, or identity-expanding. In other words, the parents’ transformation was not only about becoming an advocate or protector for their child but about becoming someone new in relation to gender and selfhood. This aspect of the phenomenon has not been sufficiently acknowledged in prior research on the experiences of parents to TGD children and youth, which often position them as static supporters rather than fellow travelers in gender transformation. However, this kind of transformation resembles what the researchers in a study on the positive experiences of adult TGD individuals have called “minority growth,” where the participants’ personal development through their transitions led them to greater open-mindedness and norm-critical insights (Wurm et al., 2024).

The way to recognition as a non-linear and relational process

In line with previous research, the phenomenon of becoming a parent to a child expressing a TGD identity could be experienced as a multifaceted journey marked by emotional, cognitive, and relational shifts as parents came to understand, learn more about, and ultimately, more or less, affirm their children’s gender identities (Abreu et al., 2019; Bhattacharya et al., 2021; Brammer et al., 2024; Morgan et al., 2023; Powell et al., 2025; Schimmel-Bristow et al., 2018; Warner et al., 2021). Recognition and adopting a supportive stance were not experienced as singular events, but rather as gradual, emotionally complex process. This included letting go of previous expectations, confronting fears, navigating societal judgment, and rethinking gender and parental roles. Over time, the process could lead to a more grounded position, where the child’s well-being in the present became the guiding principle. Still, for some, the journey was marked by ongoing struggle and uncertainty, with potentially negative consequences for the child’s gender exploration and recognition (Brammer et al., 2024).

Although the primary focus of this study was the lived experience of becoming a parent to a child expressing a TGD identity, it is important to reflect on how the diversity among the children shaped how this phenomenon was experienced. The participating parents had children ranging in age from early childhood to adolescence (aged 4-16 years) expressing both binary and nonbinary identities, and that were at different stages of self-understanding and disclosure. These variations subtly but meaningfully influenced the parents’ experiences. For example, some parents became aware of their child’s gender diversity through expressions and preferences before they verbally expressed their TGD identity, which could make parents feel emotionally more “prepared” for a non-normative disclosure, even in the absence of prior knowledge about TGD identities. In contrast, parents of older children or teens who (at least for the parents) unexpectedly disclosed a TGD identity and expressed a wish to socially transition, described more intense emotional responses as well as more urgent concerns related to puberty, health care, and security. Moreover, parents of children with nonbinary or fluid identities described feeling more alone in understanding their child’s experience and how to best support them. This was often due to less cultural narratives, the dominance of binary gender norms in society, as well as a lack of practical and medical guidance related to nonbinary identities. Taken together, these differences show that the phenomenon of becoming a parent to a TGD child is shaped not only by the child’s age, prior gender expression, and stage of self-understanding, but also by the parent’s own prior knowledge, openness, emotional flexibility, and capacity for self-reflection—all developing within a broader context of cisnormativity.

Strengths and limitations

A key strength of the study was the RLR approach with its focus on meaning and therefore chosen over other more structured or theme-driven methods where existential and relational nuances might be flattened. This enabled a deep, phenomenological illumination of parents’ lived experiences of the phenomenon of becoming a parent to a child expressing a TGD identity. Through the process of openness, flexibility, and attention to the meaning of the phenomenon as it presents itself, combined with the researcher’s bridling of their pre-conceptions, the RLR approach allowed for a nuanced understanding of the existential motion parents found themselves in. This methodological choice contributes additional nuance to earlier research. The study also provides an important contribution from a Swedish context, filling a gap in the literature.

Another methodological strength of the study was the inclusion of both individual and joint interviews. As RLR focuses on the phenomenon rather than on individuals’ specific experiences, this flexibility allowed for a richer and more layered understanding of the phenomenon. Joint interviews illuminated relational meaning-making, while individual interviews enabled more personal and emotionally nuanced reflections, offering variation in how the phenomenon was expressed. While individual interviews may have lacked relational context, the presence of a partner may, on the other hand, may have constrained openness in some cases (Allan, 1980). From a qualitative standpoint, validity is not determined by statistical generalizability but by the depth and richness of meaning, where the study’s “thick” and varied data were key strengths. In this way, the use of both interview formats contributed differently, yet meaningfully, to the understanding of the phenomenon, consistent with RLR’s emphasis on the diverse ways in which meaning is formed as well as to the commitment to participant agency.

The relatively varied sample, including both cisgender mothers and fathers from different parts of the country, with diverse marital statuses, and with TGD children of different ages, who also disclosed their identity at different ages, further enhanced the study’s trustworthiness. The use of participant quotes illustrated the findings’ grounding in concrete lived experience and gives credibility, while detailed contextual descriptions support transferability to similar settings. Nevertheless, the sample consisted predominantly of white, highly educated participants, which limits the transferability of the findings to parents from more diverse ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds.

To further enhance trustworthiness, reflexive discussions were held regularly within the research team to critically assess emerging meanings and interpretations. The methodological quality was also strengthened by the team’s clinical and research experience in the field, as well as by its diverse representation of sexual and/or gender identities.

Implication for future research

Future research would benefit from the inclusion of a broader variety of participants to better capture a wider range of experiences of the phenomenon. Continued research should therefore explore how intersectional factors such as culture, ethnicity, and socioeconomic background influence parents’ experiences, as well as the long-term effects of parental support and affirmation on the health and well-being of children with diverse TGD identities. More research is also needed about parents’ needs of support through their TGD children’s transitions and how schools, gender affirming care and other health services, such as social services and family counseling, better can support families with TGD children and youth.

Conclusions

Early and affirming responses may, according to previous research (Durwood et al., 2022), mitigate negative psychosocial minority stress in TGD children and youth (Durwood et al., 2017; Grossman et al., 2021; Tankersley et al., 2021). This study adds insight into how parents’ unique and complex experiences affect their ability to fully affirm and support their children, depending on previous knowledge, emotional reactions and navigation, emotional labor and support (Bhattacharya et al., 202; Hildago & Chen, 2019; Pullen Sansfaçon et al., 2019). Through the RLR approach the results showed how the phenomenon involved an ongoing negotiation, both regarding the child’s gender identity and parents’ own beliefs about gender, making it a continuous existential process of repositioning themselves in relation to social norms.

In summary, this study highlighted the complexity and depth of Swedish parents’ lived experiences of becoming a parent to a child expressing a TGD identity, revealing that:

• Cisnormativity deeply shapes initial reactions and ongoing processing.

• Emotional labor is a significant, under-recognized component of affirming parenting and is influenced by cisnormative assumptions and ambiguous societal information

• Parents themselves may undergo identity transformations, which should be acknowledged as a simultaneous experience of growth, vulnerability, and need for support

• Our findings expand previous knowledge by offering a different cultural perspective on parental transformation that is less grounded in organized advocacy and more in existential and relational negotiation.

Implications for clinical practice

From a societal and healthcare perspective, our findings underscore the need for accessible, affirming, and reflective support spaces for parents. They show that supporting parents of TGD children and youth not only requires clearer information and medical guidance, but also to create space for parent’s emotional processing, relational negotiation, and identity work. This is ideally designed to challenge cisnormative assumptions, with an openness for diverse paths to gendered understanding, for children and their parents alike.

Funding Statement

This research received no grant from public, commercial, or nonprofit funding agencies.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).