I was nestled on the couch with my 8-year-old son, engrossed in an episode of Pokémon, when he exhaled deeply and confessed, “Dad, I like pink.” He avoided my gaze, as if admitting this preference was deeply shameful. My heart sank as I observed his little brown-haired head hanging low, and I couldn’t help but reflect on my own childhood experiences.
My father and I never had a close relationship. He left when I was nine, but before that, he began to suspect I might be gay when I was around my son’s age. It was the early ’90s, a time when being different, especially for a boy, was fraught with societal pressures. I was not particularly masculine; sports, trucks, and the color blue didn’t interest me. In fact, I might have even mentioned my liking for pink. Whatever prompted his concerns, my father—a working-class man with calloused hands and a no-nonsense demeanor—interpreted my lack of conventional masculinity as a sign of being gay. To “man me up,” he enrolled me in wrestling classes at the local community center.
Clad in a green leotard, I was expected to grapple with other boys on the mat. For someone who didn’t care for aggression or competition, the experience felt like punishment. I distinctly remember my father watching from the sidelines, a mixture of compassion and fear etched across his face. He seemed more interested in molding me into the son he envisioned than accepting me for who I was—a gentle, good-natured boy. Wrestling was his misguided attempt to make me “straighter than a coffin nail.”
Now, as a father, my concerns about my son’s sexual orientation are minimal. I don’t fret about him liking pink or lacking interest in trucks and dirt. However, the way he hesitantly shared his preference for pink made me anxious that he might perceive me as I once viewed my own father. Did he worry that I would think less of him for liking something traditionally associated with girls?
Somewhere along the way, perhaps influenced by school or even me, he learned that embracing typically feminine interests could be problematic. This could explain his reaction when we watch Frozen together. He seems enchanted by the film, yet when I ask him if he enjoys it, he quickly denies it, claiming that “only girls like Frozen.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t like it,” I counter.
“Yes, it does,” he replies.
As I approached this moment in parenting, I had hoped we had moved past such narrow-mindedness. I believed that little boys could openly enjoy pink, Frozen, or dolls without feeling alienated. But as I sat there, my son anxiously awaiting my response, I realized the world hadn’t changed as much as I had hoped.
Instead of worrying about his orientation like my father would have, I found myself reflecting on how my own actions might be reinforcing outdated gender stereotypes. I had a decision to make. I could either encourage him to embrace his love for pink and potentially face ridicule at school, or I could conform to an antiquated mindset, expressing anger and insisting that pink was solely for girls.
Ultimately, I chose a more subtle approach. My son was still looking down when he added, “Rick said he likes pink too. He’s the only other boy I know who does. Most of my friends say pink’s for girls.”
In that moment, I said something I wish my father had said during a similar situation: “I like pink. Now you know three boys.” His tension eased, and he leaned into the couch, snuggling up beside me as we continued to watch Pokémon together.
It’s vital for us as parents to create environments where our children feel free to express themselves without fear of judgment. Supporting them in their individuality not only helps in their personal growth but also fosters a more inclusive world.
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In summary, confronting gender stereotypes with our children requires sensitivity and understanding. By fostering an open dialogue and embracing their interests, we can pave the way for a more accepting future.