It was an ordinary evening, one that would typically fade from memory. I found myself seated on the floor of the living room, engrossed in a blanket project while the latest episodes of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt played in the background. My daughter, 8 years old and full of charming quirks, plopped down amidst the yarn I had been working with. “Mom,” she began, her face illuminated by the television’s glow, “Is he gay?” She gestured towards the flamboyant Titus Andromedon, who was overacting splendidly on screen. Without looking up, I replied, “Yes, sweetie, he is.”
She stretched out on the incomplete blanket, her slender limbs creating invisible snow angels. “I think I’m gay, too,” she declared, as if stating a simple fact. A smile crept onto my face. I felt an overwhelming urge to leap up and shower her with hugs and affection, to ensure she felt loved and accepted, but I chose to mirror her calm demeanor. For her, this was merely a statement; a nonchalant observation. So, I responded, “I think so too, honey.”
The entire exchange was brief—just 18 words—but it held a weight I understood deeply, one she may forget as she grows. I had sensed her truth long before she found the words to express it. The way she interacts with boys, her personality that stops dead in its tracks when a pretty girl enters the room, the way she gazes at older girls, her doodles filled with characters that reflect her heart, and the valentines she crafts for a little blonde girl in her class all reveal her true self. This is who she is, and I wouldn’t change a thing.
Later that evening, after tucking her into bed with extra hugs and kisses, I found my way back to the couch. With a beer in my hand and the flickering fire casting shadows in the quiet home, I cried. Not for the reason one might assume. I had been anticipating this moment for years, hoping it would be a gentle transition, free of tears or trauma. But in that stillness, the reality hit me.
Every terrible statistic I’ve ever encountered flooded my mind—how much more vulnerable my sweet girl is to hate crimes, to mental health struggles. The thought of her facing discrimination for jobs, housing, or even the chance to adopt a child weighed heavily on me. If you knew her, you’d understand why this loomed so large. She has a kind heart, a joyful laugh, and a sharp wit. Her teacher, transitioning from 2nd to 3rd grade, chose her for the new class out of affection, stating, “She’s just so kind and well-liked. I’d take 30 of her.” I thought of her peacefully sleeping in her pug-themed room, and my heart ached with a new vulnerability.
When she was just three years old, I would write my phone number on her arm during crowded outings, fearing I might lose her. This letter is my modern-day equivalent of that protective gesture. I want to keep my daughter safe, and for that, I need your help.
You may not have a child who will face the same challenges, but perhaps you have a child who could be a friend to mine, who might share a subway ride, walk alongside her, or simply pass her in the street. I hope you raise a child who will stand up for her if danger arises. If your child witnesses mine being bullied or harmed, I urge you to cultivate a spirit of courage and compassion. My daughter is the kind of kid who will help yours in return.
If your beliefs don’t align with being an LGBTQ ally, I encourage you to focus on the aspects of your beliefs that promote love and understanding rather than judgment. Teach your children to embrace these values, as I will soon need to send my sweet girl into a world that can be unkind.
While I realize this request might seem selfish, I genuinely need your support in raising a generation that will protect my child in a world where she could be at risk. In turn, my daughter will be there for yours if she ever witnesses them in distress. I want to believe that the parents of this generation will choose love over anger. Please help me prove that right.
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Summary:
An emotional account of a mother’s experience when her 8-year-old daughter comes out as gay. The mom reflects on her daughter’s identity and the fears she holds for her child’s future in a world that can be unkind. She calls on parents to raise children who will support and protect LGBTQ youth.