This week I've obviously been thinking a lot about my Dad, and I wanted to share a story with you, which is relevant to this account and intersex advocacy in general. (Thread)

Before my Dad went into hospital, we had a really great phone call. I say "really great", it was one of those conversations that happens at times like this, where things that are "unsaid" are said or acknowledged, just in case. Just in case...

We chatted about my advocacy and my Dad said how proud he was of me and talked about what might happen in the future for me. I told him I wanted to write something that would be helpful to parents like him, who have to help their child come to terms with being different.

That's when my Dad told me that the day I came home from the hospital, groggy from painkillers and anaesthetic, the day we *found out*, he went into the back garden, by himself, and cried.

"I didn't like what was happening to you, and I'm your Dad and could do nothing to stop it".

He cried, right there, in our back garden, in the sunshine, because there was nothing else he could do and because he had nowhere else to go.

I know the sun was shining because I remember doing the same thing that day, by myself, in the back garden, the sun warming me, as I sat in silence, with my tears, and tried to fathom the new "me" I had discovered.

The silence is something intersex families know well. The hushed tones, the awkward condolences, the ppl who avoid us. The words unsaid, just in case. Just in case.

It's not just the stigma, but the shock of the unexpected. No one expects a baby with a DSD. No one is prepared for it. No one knows what to do or what to say.

If we want to end the stigma, we need to end the silence. We need honest conversations, useful information, and places we can go, when it's all *too much*. We need ppl we can talk to. Not just peers, but mental health professionals who understand us.

We need this, not just for those of us with DSDs, but for our families too. This is what intersex issues look like, not identity and gender and whether our genitals are binary enough for you or not. This is the truth about who we are and what we need. This is what we ask for.

To finish, my Dad's favourite cover version of any song ever is The Sound of Silence, by Disturbed, which is what inspired write this thread today, in my back garden, in the sunshine. So, in honour of my Dad, I'd like to share it with you to.