At its heart, Purim is a story about the struggle to be our true selves. We wear masks, and we make noise. And in the middle of it all, we tell the story of Esther, a woman whose very name means “hidden.”

More than anything else, Purim is the story of a young woman coming out. The heroine is a secular Jew who seems to get through life by displaying “traditional” feminine virtues – physical beauty, grace, a subtle kind of tact. But midway through the story, she realizes that the only way to save her people is to reveal another side of herself – to go to the king and to admit that she, too, is a Jew. “I will go to the king,” she says. “If I die, I die.”

For generations, Purim has inspired young girls to become their true selves. But the truth is that all of us are coming out. We spend our entire lives discovering who we are, learning to be comfortable in our own skins, and finding the courage to be honest in front of others. This, says Rav Nachman, is the secret of prayer: to stand before the Holy One and to say, “This is who I really am. Help me, love me, bless me.”

Coming out is a universal process. It’s part of growing up, part of becoming our true selves, and part of getting closer to God. But this year, parts of our country are singling out one particular group and saying, “Don’t come out.” Or as they prefer to put it, “Don’t say gay.”

Last year, a children’s book called The Purim Superhero was removed from Florida schools. It depicted two Jewish fathers. And this year, states are passing laws to deny medical care to trans children and adults. The lesson of Purim is that we can never let this happen.

So today, I bear witness, and I tell you that I have a trans son. And I will tell you that his transformation surgery was one of the holiest moments in my life.

It was years ago, and at the time, there were only a few surgeons in California who were covered by the insurance companies – skilled, gentle surgeons who knew how to guide their patents through this life-saving journey.

So we met at the the surgery center – my son, some of his friends, my wife, and I. And with my son’s permission, I led a ceremony in the lobby, blessing him for becoming himself. And when the ceremony was over, I looked up, and saw that the nurses and the doctors were standing around us, tears running down their faces. They had never seen something so wonderful.

We are all coming out. We are all in the process of discovering ourselves, of becoming the people we were meant to be. Trans people are only making the most obvious change. We should celebrate their honesty. We should celebrate their courage. And like Esther, we should strive to be the people we were meant to be.