He angrily yanked out hair clips, cried when his mom tried to dress him in girl clothes, fought over any outfit that had butterflies or flowers.

At the age of four, he said, “Mommy, when is my turn to be a real boy? If Santa comes this year, can Santa turn me into a real boy?”

Sayeh did not know what to do.

“It was painful, absolutely.”

Sometimes, what he said made her cry with heartbreak.

“Mommy, I really wish I was Pinocchio and that I could turn into a real boy. But I know that I’m not Pinocchio and fairy tales don’t happen.”

She asked her doctor for a referral. “There is definitely something wrong with my daughter,” she said, and the physician laughed.

“She is so young. Some children are like that. She’s just going through a phase.”

Others told her Tara was just a tomboy, it was separation anxiety, she was a worrisome mom.

Several months later Sayeh did get a referral – but it was for a psychiatrist who thought Sayeh needed pills for depression.

But that day in the Sears store felt like a crossroads.

Tara was crying. “Mommy, please don’t force me to buy stuff from the girl section. I beg you, could you please understand? It’s not just I want to be a boy, but I am a boy!”

Beaten, exhausted, Sayeh gave in, buying the red T-shirt from the boys department.

“That was the hardest day for me, to believe that what I was worrying when he was 2 years old, it was not just a dream, it was reality.”

From now on, she decided, she’d let Tara wear boy clothes and boy hair cuts. “I thought I shouldn’t be selfish. It’s his life and I should let him live his life like he wants to.”

It didn’t solve their problems. Older girls, who thought he should not be in the their washroom, teased him. He cried to his mom at night.

“It makes me want to throw up, going to the girls’ washroom. I tell them I’m a girl, but it makes me feel like I’m going to die. This is not who I am.”

And sometimes, Sayeh cried, and it was Tara who comforted her.

“Mommy, why are you crying? Do you really miss your girl? I didn’t die. I’m still alive. See how healthy I am?” he said, hugging her.

It was Barb Urman, from Family Services, who finally helped by connecting her to Dr. Joey Bonifacio, a physician specializing in adolescent medicine at St. Michael’s Hospital.

Dr. Bonifacio will be the medical lead of the new Hospital for Sick Children transgender clinic opening in October.

“That was a huge thing,” Sayeh said. “We changed pronouns, changed his name, registered in a new school, as a boy.”

With help from Dr. Bonifacio, family services, school staff and a child youth worker who is also transgender, Tara — now Taha — is finally sleeping at night, and happy.

“This year I see a different Taha, a different person.”

He has a long way to go, his mom says. Hormone blockers will be an option when he gets older to hold off puberty and let him decide whether to have surgery, but “the peace came back to our home. He is in his right place, I am in my right place and we are at peace and that’s amazing”.

Ms Urman said family service workers are seeing more and more families on similar journeys. Gender identity today is where the gay-lesbian-bisexual community was 25 years ago, she said.

“It’s a watershed. We’re seeing a generation of youth who are really letting us know they won’t be forced into binary concepts of gender, the ones most of us grew up with. They’re no longer willing to accept those labels.”

The growing interest was evident Wednesday, when hundreds of educators, police, parents, medical, social and mental health workers gathered in Kettleby to discuss ways to create awareness and paths forward.

Miqqi Gilbert, a York University philosophy professor, lifelong cross-dresser and activist in the transgender community, was one of them.

“We need to prepare ourselves, we need to pave the road these girls and boys will travel on. This meeting today is designed to discuss the issues these adventurers will face and what systems we need in order to aid their exploration.”

Nicole Nussbaum, a lawyer and president-elect of the Canadian Professional Association for Transgender Health, told the conference 59 per cent of transgendered people knew about their difference before the age of 10, 80 per cent before age 14, and 93 per cent by 30.

Ms Nussbaum knew early on. Growing up in an Orthodox Jewish community in Thornhill, she remembers calling KidsHelp phone after her parents had gone to bed.Her earliest memory was “crying myself to sleep and praying I would wake up ‘right’, as a girl”.

Dr. Bonifacio said the risks in not helping young people in these situations are “staggering”.

Among those between ages of 16 and 24, about 50 per cent have seriously contemplated suicide, he said.

Many are kicked out or run away from non-un­derstanding homes, drop out of school and self-medicate with drugs or alcohol, said Rupert Raj, a mental health counsellor who became male in 1971, at the age of 19.

For newcomer families, racial and religious diversity adds to the complexity, he said.

But Dr. Bonifacio sees growing acceptance of those who don’t fit labels. Media is presenting more transgender personalities and on the Internet, young people are able to discover they are not alone, to connect and build supportive communities.

“It’s not wonderful, but we’re discussing it now,” he said. “And when there’s discussion, we can have change.”