Le Chemin: Autiste et trans : survivre, aimer, renaître is not a book that asks for permission to exist. It arrives quietly, almost humbly, yet it carries the emotional weight of an entire lifetime lived in fragments and reconquered piece by piece. Written by Olivia Gosselin with Tiavina Kleber, it is at once an intimate confession, a love letter, and a document of survival. From the very first pages, the reader understands that this is not a story about transition alone, nor about autism, nor about faith, but about the impossible task of holding together all the selves one is told cannot coexist.
She changed her body, her name, her life, but not her love for her daughters. That single sentence could stand as the emotional core of the book. Le Chemin is written as a letter to three daughters who no longer speak to her, and this choice shapes everything. The voice is restrained, never accusatory, never theatrical. It is the voice of someone who knows that love does not guarantee forgiveness, yet persists anyway. The absence of the daughters is present on every page, like a silence that structures the text. Olivia does not write to justify herself, but to leave a trace, to say I was here, I loved you, I tried to survive without erasing myself.
