“It’s just a phase.” + “Maybe you’ll outgrow it?” + “You don’t know what’s best for you yet, because you’re not an adult!” + “Are you sure you’re not just confused?”

I’ve heard every one of the above statements (and many other similar variations) at different times in my life, as someone digested the facts of my gayness. Sometimes, it feels to me like there are cishet people who imagine “coming out” as a singular act in an LGBTQI+ person’s life. But, dear reader, it’s absolutely not. If you live an out and open life (because you feel safe enough to do so; zero judgement for anyone closeted for whatever their reasons), you come out over and over and over again.

I’ve “come out” hundreds, if not thousands of times in my life so far. I’ve had lightweight situations, such as: the floor refinisher in Wisconsin who needed me to explain what I meant by my partner (this person settled on the meaning being that we were business partners in flipping our house, and I let that stand that day because personal safety flags went up and the two of us were alone inside the house for the quote), to the fitness center where we asked for the family discount we felt we fit the description for (we were declined) back when we still weren’t allowed to legally marry, and medical documents proving that despite our non-matching last names, yet matching genders, we were in fact on the same insurance. Then there were the heavier situations like coming out to my: parents, siblings, friends, co-workers, classmates, and extended family.

I mean, where do I even really begin on this subject? The idea of “outgrowing” an inherent truth about yourself is asinine. It’s not a fashion trend, nor a musical artist whose jams who make your parents ears feel like they’re bleeding. It’s not a toddler’s beloved after school show whose cartoon characters drive you batshit nuts. It’s a fact of someone’s identity.

If you are spending time telling yourself that you are “ok” with people in the LGBTQI+ community, but then talk out the other side of your mouth about how when it’s “your child” it’s different, then I genuinely hope I have your attention right here and now. That message, that it’s “ok” for others, just not “your kid”, tells me and everyone else that you’re actually not “ok” with it. I swear I see red when I hear this horseshit. Do you have any idea how nauseously vulnerable a kid makes themselves when they go to their authority figures and hear this garbage?

Learning that those who are supposed to love you “unconditionally” actually have a whole list of conditions, that could in essence remove their love if you don’t comply, is abusive; full stop. You are trying to manipulate a child in to performing love for you. By making it seem like the choices you deem appropriate are more valuable, and asking them to ignore their truth you are putting your comfort over their truth. I want you to read that again please. By asking someone to ignore their truth, to live a life you’ve pictured for them, you are putting your comfort over their truth. Is that what you really want for this person you claim to love to the actual fucking moon and back? If so, then I implore you to search deep within yourself to try and fake it until they make it out of your house, and can get established on their own two feet.

It makes me want to get on my bike, and just do a loop around this entire country, ringing doorbells and hugging kids who’ve just laid their emotional guts out in front of their loved ones, and were met with these kinds of responses. Do you really think you’re going to somehow make life easier in the future by caveating for someone laying themselves bare, that, “maybe it’s a phase you’ll outgrow”? If the answer to that question was, “YES” for you, then I would like to take a moment to let you know that not only is that unhelpful, its wildly harmful.

Parents and caregivers, just like children and young adults, are not infallible. We all bungle things. We all make mistakes, and treat people in ways we regret and feel shame over later; every. single. one. of. us. lucky. enough. to. be. alive. The good news is, we can apologize and when the other person is ready, make repairs. As I say over and over and over again and will not stop until the end of my days, it is never too late to apologize. It’s not always for you to know how the other person feels about your belated apology, but the goal is to do it anyways, and give the other person space to process things how they need+want.

One time, a dude we knew because we were good friends with his girlfriend, waited for her to get out of his car while we were passengers in his backseat so he could, “ask us a question”. There we were, two young lesbians in the back of this guy’s two door hatchback, thinking we were all pals kicking it together on a weekend evening in our closeted early college days. While his girlfriend was running in to the store, he asked us if we were lesbians. We went out on a limb and told him that we, in fact were, and then I asked him if we’d still be friends now that he knew. Without skipping a beat, he said to me, “of course, Lauren”. I sighed a breath of relief that another coming out was completed, when he followed up with, “but you do know you’re going to hell, and there’s nothing I can do about that, right?” Moments later, his girlfriend got back in the car none the wiser to what went down while she was away, and off we drove, feeling trapped in his vehicle and our own skin. We never hung out with that guy again after that night, but many years later I heard through the grapevine that he eventually also came out of the closet. I think that burning in hell comment that evening had more to do with his own internalized shame, but we carried that horrible incident in our psychological pockets like a slice of rotting meat for years. While I’ve never forgotten that moment, in my life since I’ve met plenty of people like him; especially in the midwest, where “being polite” is our first language. The wolves in sheeps clothing are the people I really need to keep my protective mechanisms on a swivel for, as they’re the ones that become the most sinister after dark. The kinds of humans who are nice to our LGBTQI+ faces, until you accidentally scratch the surface and they let you know that you’re going to burn in hell for all of eternity for just… being… yourself…

If someone comes to you with a vulnerable fact about who they are, do your best to honor them by respecting their truth. People live on a sliding scale of fluidity, and that’s to be respected; always. It’s not a phase. It’s not a fad. It’s not about you. If you’re struggling with feelings of “it” being “ok” for other people just not your kiddo, I hope you find a way to lead with love and figure out how to put their needs first on this subject anyways. Like the late, great, Mary Oliver says in her poem The Summer Day: “Tell me, what else should I have done? Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

Dear reader, I plan to do many things with my one wild and precious life, including, but not limited to, standing up and speaking out for vulnerable+marginalized youth. All the best, lk.