It was an otherwise unremarkable evening. I found myself on the living room floor, attempting to get creative with Pinterest while ignoring the final episodes of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. My daughter, a delightful 8-year-old bundle of quirky charm, plopped down on the chunky yarn I was working with, her small frame nestled among my unfinished project.
“Mom,” she said, her face illuminated by the flickering light of the TV above the fireplace. Her skin still soft as a child’s, with a tiny smudge of dirt on her cute nose, she asked, “Is he gay?” motioning toward the fabulously flamboyant character, Titus Andromedon, who was stealing the show. Without looking up, I replied, “Yes, sweetheart, he is.”
She sprawled out on the half-finished blanket, her arms and legs making invisible snow angels. “I think I’m gay, too,” she declared, as if she were talking about the weather. My heart swelled with pride, and I wanted to leap up and embrace her, shower her with affection, but I followed her lead. To her, this was merely a statement, not a monumental moment. I smiled and replied, “I think so too, honey.”
That brief exchange, consisting of just 18 words, was something she might not remember by the time her first girlfriend asks about her coming out story. Deep down, I’ve known for a long time that she is gay. It shows in how she interacts with boys, the way her vivacious spirit comes to a halt when a pretty girl walks into the room, and how her eyes linger on girls just a year or two older than her. The characters she doodles in her notebook, the Valentine’s cards she writes to the blonde girl in her class—these are all parts of her identity. This is who she is, as intrinsic to her as her bright blue eyes and her talent for art.
After tucking her in with extra kisses and hugs that lingered a little longer than usual, I found myself back on the couch, a beer in hand, as the house settled into a tranquil silence. And then, the tears began to fall. Not for the reasons you might think. I had anticipated this moment; I had hoped it would come without tears or trauma, but the weight of it all finally hit me.
Thoughts of every hate crime I’d ever heard flooded my mind. I couldn’t help but ponder the statistics: how much more likely my sweet girl could face violence or mental health struggles, how her path to employment or finding a home could be fraught with obstacles. If you knew her, you’d feel the same heartache. She possesses a big heart, a contagious laugh, and a sharp wit. Her teacher even handpicked her for the third-grade class because, as she told me, “She’s just so kind and well-liked. She’s a teacher’s dream.” I could only think of her sleeping upstairs in her pug-themed room, and my heart felt more vulnerable than ever.
When she was just three years old, I would write my phone number on her arm with a Sharpie at crowded events, fearing she might wander off. This moment of writing down my fears feels like my way of protecting her now.
I Need Your Help
You might not have a child who will face what mine will, but perhaps you will have a child who will share a subway ride with her on a late night, or walk beside her on the street. I hope you raise that person to be an ally, to stand up for her if danger arises. If your child witnesses mine being bullied or harmed, I urge you to foster kindness and bravery in them. Because my daughter is the kind of kid who will support yours if she sees them in trouble.
If your beliefs don’t naturally align with being an LGBTQ ally, I implore you to emphasize love and understanding to your children. Teach them not to judge. It won’t be long before I have to send my sweet girl out into a world that can be harsh.
I realize this might be a selfish request, but I need you to nurture a generation that will protect my child in a world filled with those who might wish her harm. I promise to do the same for yours; my daughter will stand up for yours if the need arises. I have to believe that this generation of parents will lean more toward love than anger. Please help me prove that right.
Originally published on May 15, 2019.
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