As children, my little sister and brother were inseparable. They were almost like twins, best friends. To me it always seemed they had the purest of childhoods, always immersed in a world of their own creation. They adored Disney and its characters; my sister was Pocahontas and my brother was Ariel, the Little Mermaid. He had a special connection with her, loved her long, red hair and her beautiful green tail and was enchanted by her transformation from mermaid to human, which brought her into the arms of the handsome prince. The perfect happy ending.

Together, they were a force of nature: a whirlwind of craziness and creativity and had what seemed like a truly unique and unbreakable bond. They did everything together: where one went the other followed. But when my sister began to blossom and skipped contentedly down the path of womanhood, it left my brother confused and scared. Standing at the crossroads leading to adolescence and manhood, he looked for answers until four years ago, the parallel lives of Ariel and my brother became fully entwined. He decided he also wanted to transform. Not from mermaid to human, but from he to she.

Now my sister faces a similar crossroads. The person she has known and loved all her life changes before her eyes, taking a fundamental part of herself and her identity down a scary, unknown and potentially dangerous road.

When Ariel got the legs she so desired, the world from which she emerged was changed forever. The Ariel her family had known was gone. And as with the Little Mermaid, it is not just my brother who is changing. We are all transitioning. We are waving goodbye to the little boy we knew, and saying hello to the young woman.