Sometimes, I feel as though my children understand me more deeply than anyone else. They might not be aware of my professional milestones or my educational background, but they’ve witnessed my vulnerabilities. They’ve seen me in my less flattering moments—like when they barged in on me in the bathroom, a scenario I’d prefer to keep private. They’ve seen me angry and then apologize, and they’ve seen me cry. My older children were present during the most challenging times, including after my C-section when I was at my weakest and during the emotional turmoil of my divorce.
When I finally decided to come out, it was in my late twenties—much later than many. Friends and family were taken aback, confused, or even upset, having known me for years without this knowledge. However, I didn’t think much about revealing my truth to my kids, ages 2, 4, and 5, because I felt they already had an inkling.
As their father and I were going through our separation for other reasons, I saw this as an opportunity to embrace my true self. After their dad began dating again, my kids started asking innocent questions, equating his new relationship with marriage. They even wondered aloud if I would remarry.
One day, while driving to the park with my kids and a friend, I overheard them discussing their fathers’ new relationships. Their friend’s comment about his own parents made me feel relieved—he seemed well-adjusted, having grown up with separated parents. He shared how he enjoyed living in two places, assuring my kids that love remained constant despite the changes.
Then, curiosity took hold. “Is your mom going to date another man?” the friend asked. My sons giggled, and my oldest chimed in, “No… I think my mom is going to have a girlfriend.” I was surprised by their perceptiveness. They had met my girlfriend, but I had only introduced her as a friend, keeping any affection under wraps.
“Mom, do you have a girlfriend now?” my oldest called out from the back seat. “Yes, I do,” I replied, somewhat astonished. “SEE!” he exclaimed to his brother and their friend. “Who is it?” came the eager response. After I told them, he said, “Oh, that’s great. I like her a lot.” And just like that, the moment passed.
Coming out to my children was surprisingly easy. They trust and love me without the biases some adults may hold. Unlike some grown-ups who questioned my choices, my kids accepted who I am without hesitation or skepticism. They don’t care whom I love; they simply want me to be happy. I’m still the mom who crafts extravagant Halloween costumes, invents silly games, and comforts them during their fears.
Children are not born with prejudice; it’s something they learn from the world around them. In contrast, some adults I confided in reacted differently, questioning my identity and insinuating that I might just be confused. “Maybe you’re just bisexual,” one friend suggested. “What if you just didn’t like your ex-husband?” It was disheartening to feel doubted about my own feelings. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” another friend asked, implying I had somehow deceived them. How could I explain something I hadn’t fully understood until later in life, especially being married with kids at the time?
I married my ex-husband when I was only 22, younger than most LGBTQ women I know when they come out. At that time, I had no clarity about my identity, especially in a society that often denies such possibilities. Yet now, I feel more certain than ever. The hurtful responses from some adults have faded in light of the unconditional love and trust from my children. They now have the chance to see me as my authentic self, and that is truly the best gift I could give them.
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In summary, my kids seemed to understand my truth long before I revealed it. Their acceptance and love have made the process of coming out easier than I anticipated, proving that children often possess a wisdom that surpasses our expectations.