This was the Reagan ‘80s: Being gay wasn’t something one felt comfortable openly aspiring to, but in my house at least, it wasn’t something to be reviled or feared, either. Over the next ten years, Mom worked and had a boyfriend or two, but we weren’t one of those touchy-feely progressive-talky households. When I was 11, my mom and I moved to California. Afterward, my dad remarried and stayed in Texas.
We didn’t talk about being gay in my family, but then, we also didn’t talk about being straight. But growing up in the mid-’80s suburbs of Dallas, and then San Diego, I also didn’t have a template for such conversations. I wasn’t one of those kids who knows with certainty at age four that they’re different. In part, I wasn’t developmentally there - I didn’t yet harbor any sexual feelings. I was busy being a sixth grader with too-big glasses, trying to avoid being the least popular kid in the room. I didn’t “identify” at all, much less question my sexuality or my gender. At her age, I didn’t identify as at-least-bi, or maybe-straight. I came out as a lesbian my junior year of college, when I was nearly a decade older than my daughter is now. “I might be a totally different person today if I’d had a friend to talk with openly about my sexuality and desires at your age.” My daughter rolled her eyes at that point, because A) as an 11-year-old, she’s required to do so, and B) tweens don’t like when you emote or express sentiments that might embarrass them - aka, talk. “Wow, it must feel great for your friend to have someone to confide in about this,” I told her. Hashtag middle school, amIrite? But I also teared up a little. I think I just don’t like anyone at my school.” I don’t think I’m gay, but I’m not sure if I’m straight. Then I asked, Do you have any crushes? “Not really.
“At least bi.” I practiced active listening. “She has a crush on this kid who was born a girl but who is now a boy, so she assumes she is …” she paused, searching for the right descriptor. “She doesn’t know what she is, but she assumes she is at least not straight,” my daughter reported. Earlier this year, my 11-year-old came home from school and told me that one of her sixth grade friends had come out to her.