When a four-year-old girl named Ana* corrected a church volunteer who assumed her nanny was her mother, she didn't just correct a misidentification—she affirmed her nanny's identity. Pointing to her nanny, Ana declared, “They is my nanny,” using the correct pronoun without hesitation. The moment left her nanny, Henna Patel, a 31-year-old non-binary freelance writer, feeling a mix of confusion, pride, and joy.
Patel, who uses she/they pronouns, has been Ana's nanny for some time, caring for her and her baby brother. Ana had never met a non-binary person before Patel, yet she confidently stood up for her nanny in a way that Patel's own father has not. Patel notes that her dad still refers to her as his daughter, not out of malice but simply because he puts no effort in.
A Slow Awakening to Non-Binary Identity
Patel's journey to embracing a non-binary identity began in 2022, four years ago, when she first experimented with she/they pronouns. This awakening was slow and measured, simmering for about a year. Around the same time, she fell in love with two people, Lex* and Jordan*, and joined a triad, dramatically saying goodbye to monogamy. That summer of throuple love led her to explore what types of relationships she wanted and needed, and she began questioning the gender binary.
Friends who had been thriving in their non-binary bodies for a while influenced her. She witnessed them shed heteronormative ideals and explore their identities, and it all made sense to her. When servers at restaurants referred to the group as “ladies,” it bugged her. She initially thought her irritation was on behalf of her non-binary friends, but she soon realized she was one of them too. She related to the fluidity of gender, shifting away from heteronormative and patriarchal concepts, and found she could sit calmly in the plurality of gender, letting her masculine and feminine energies co-exist.
Coming Out to Family and Friends
When Patel came out as non-binary to her mostly queer friend group, they responded with “this makes so much sense for you.” However, it was more complicated with her family. Having already come out as bisexual and polyamorous, she now had to explain that the word “daughter” no longer sat right with her. She opted for a message on the family group chat, giving them time and space to digest. The responses surprised her with love, support, and a little confusion. Replies ranged from “so happy that this is right for you and makes you feel like you” to “it will be harder for older generations to understand.”
Adjusting to they/them pronouns doesn't come easily to some, especially those not queer or queer-adjacent, but most people in her life are supportive and still trying. Before this, Patel had spent most of her life thinking she didn't want children, but existing in her gender and sexuality euphoria made her realize she might want kids—just not to be pregnant. She adores having children in her life, including her niblings (a gender-neutral term for nieces and nephews), who get all her love and attention. One nibling is being raised genderless by two non-binary parents, another calls her “yifu” (a made-up Cantonese term merging aunt and uncle), and she's also called “tíe,” the gender-neutral term in Spanish.
Career Change to Childcare and a Child's Ally
In 2025, Patel changed her career from the charity sector to childcare, wanting to surround herself with the free and dynamic energy only kids have. She first became a nanny for a six-month-old, where the parents lovingly referred to her as “Uncle Henna.” Nannying quickly scratched her broody itch. With a baby, gender stuff is easy because they can't talk and don't understand gender binaries. But older kids like Ana are curious beings, always asking questions.
Ana's first gender-related question was “Why are you a they?” Patel simplified it: “I'm not a boy, or a girl. I'm in the middle. Just a bit different.” Ana stared, ran off, and carried on playing, then came back with more questions: “but you're not a boy? And you're not a girl? You're just…Henna Benna.” Kids like Ana may ask blunt questions, but they come from curiosity rather than hate. They are sponges, taking in new information daily, and their openness is something adults, with preconceived ideas from the patriarchy, have strayed from.
Patel believes we need to be more like kids. With each new generation, this openness, curiosity, and questioning of the world becomes stronger and seeps into life fluidly. The kids may sometimes be a handful, but they are indeed alright. *Names have been changed. This article was originally published on June 28, 2026, as part of Metro's Queer Hope & Joy series, running alongside LGBT Foundation's Hope Starts Here campaign.
