What parents of LGBTQ children should keep in mind when your kid comes out.

By the time I was 19, I’d come out to most everyone important in my life — except for my parents.

I’d waited so long that I felt sure I was building up the severity of the event in my head. I’m not exactly sure why I waited; most likely because the moment I told my parents, everything would become real. My sexuality would no longer be the secret I’d kept close to my chest for the past four years, only referenced in jokes with friends. I had so many concerns. What if they treated me differently? What if they were upset that I hadn’t told them sooner? I kept telling myself, “It’s not a big deal! They’re progressive, they’re open-minded, they’re not going to care.” And in a way, I was right. And in a much different way, I was wrong.

The truth is, coming out is a big deal for a number of reasons. It’s a defining event (or series of events) that many members of the LGBTQ community plan out for months or even years in advance. It’s especially hard to tell families, because you’re essentially telling the people who have known you your entire life and who are closest to you that a certain part of you is different than they always thought. It’s — in short — something that requires a lot of courage and planning, neither of which I had when I came out somewhat unexpectedly.

I was telling my mom about a complicated situation with a friend involving unreciprocated feelings when she asked, “Do you feel that way about girls too?” My much-too-long pause in responding (seriously, it was over a minute long) told my mom the answer about my sexuality. Suddenly it felt like our whole relationship was up in the air. I wasn’t sure how to react, and neither were my parents.

Because most of my LGBTQ friends were still closeted at that time, my knowledge of parents’ potential reactions to coming out came from television and books. Some were positive. Lots of hugging. Tearful proclamations that “we accept you!” Sly grins and winks of “we’ve always known.” There were also less accepting reactions I knew but didn’t want to think about. Teenagers kicked out of their homes, adults shunned from the family.

In all my worrying about finally coming out to my parents, I never expected to wake up the next morning to their anxiety and doubt, along with concerning statistics about the higher rate of sexual assault for bisexual women. While I understood and expected my parents’ questions, I couldn't help but feel surprised by the sheer amount of worry. My parents said that the more questions I answered about when I had known, why hadn’t I said anything, what had made me know, the more they would accept me. But I remember thinking, “Why does it matter? Why can’t you just accept me?”

My parents dropped the subject extremely quickly and soon I was able to go on about my life normally, which is all I ever really wanted. Except as the days and months passed and my parents never brought it up again, I began to realize that my sexuality was beginning to feel a little less accepted and a little more ignored and pushed to the side. Like a concern that nobody wants to think about. Of course I had the choice to bring it back up myself, but as someone who hates dealing with their feelings and emotions, it was easier to stay quiet. After a while, I forced myself to reopen the discussion and work through my parents’ questions — but I still couldn’t help but feel strange about the experience. Why did my parents leave my sexuality unaddressed for so long? Why did I feel more questioned than accepted? And why hadn’t I expected this?

Throughout the entire mildly traumatizing process, I learned an important lesson: Coming out is never what you think it’s going to be. If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to plan ahead of time. But sometimes you’re caught seriously off guard, and you should expect your parents to be caught off guard too.

“In those fateful moments that you and your child will probably remember for the rest of your lives, all they need to hear is that you love them for who they are and that you always will.”

— K.A.*

To parents of LGBTQ kids, I want you to know that the most important thing for you to communicate to your child in that moment is not your worry and not your questions, but your acceptance. Your child might have been planning this moment in their mind for months or even years. Of course you have the right to have questions, and your child will answer them if they feel comfortable. But in those fateful moments that you and your child will probably remember for the rest of your lives, all they need to hear is that you love them for who they are and that you always will.

And to anyone who is thinking of coming out to their parents, I know the extreme bravery that is overcoming your fear and I commend you for it. While you may be filled with doubt over whether or not you are doing the right thing for yourself and your family, know that you are. If I could go back in time, I would tell myself that while my parents are certainly in their right to be surprised and have a few follow-up questions, I should never settle for anything less than acceptance. And neither should you.

*Editor’s note: K.A. is a pseudonym.

Resources

Coming out is a personal journey, but know that you are not alone. There are lots of resources online that can help you understand what you’re feeling and navigate this journey safely — and that offer advice for you and the important people in your life. Here are a few:

No matter where you live, you can access TrevorSpace, a safe and secure social networking site for LGBTQ young people and their allies.
The Proud Trust is an organisation that supports LGBT+ youth. Their website offers help and advice tailored to young people.
Mermaids works with young people who feel at odds with the gender they have been assigned. They also work with parents and carers of young people going through these feelings.