In my almost two decades as a clinician and community leader, I’ve gotten acquainted with hundreds of clients and community members who are LGBTQ and coming out to themselves and their families. I’ve heard a wide range of personal stories, from the very hopeful to the very tragic. I’ve seen 13 year olds end up homeless and addicted to drugs because parents kicked them out for being LGBTQ. I’ve seen young transgender women of color becoming sex workers on the streets just to survive. And I’ve mourned the suicides of young bisexual adults and elders in my community. On the flip side, I’ve also worked with bright transgender college students who transitioned during college, kept their friends, and graduated with good grades. I’ve seen LGBTQ people go on to become successful doctors, lawyers, teachers, artists, and therapists. I’ve attended beautiful same-sex weddings of friends who had parents proudly walking them down the aisle.
What makes the difference between these sad and happy stories? It starts with the parenting. Parenting based on unconditional love, which means unconditionally loving your child no matter what. No matter if your child cuts off their hair or takes on a different religion than you. You don’t necessarily have to throw them a party for it, but you still need to care for them and support them just as you would your other children. I’ve seen a lot of people save their unconditional love for romantic partners but parent their children based on conditional love. They’ve got it backwards. Romantic partners should earn your love and commitment based on agreed upon conditions. On the other hand, your children need you to stand by them no matter what. Food, shelter, safety, affection, and a feeling of belonging should never be conditional. And that’s the difference between a tragedy and a success story.
And Telaina Eriksen has got it right. I got connected to Telaina through a mutual friend, Seth Fischer, MFA, freelance writer and fellow bisexual advocate. Seth and Telaina were grad school buddies at AULA, and Seth fully vouched for her, calling her the “bee’s knees.” AULA connects the three of us, and since social justice is a core part of AULA’s mission, I know that anyone who chooses to go there would be passionate about social issues. She also coincidentally has a tremendous amount of lived experience, having three close family members who are LGBTQ. And Telaina’s instincts are on-point because her parenting tips are what I would recommend as a clinician since they’re based on warmth, communication, and unconditional love. Somehow she has figured it out as a mom, sister, aunt, and friend. She is also savvy on social media, which is highly timely today for millennials. And her non-sugar-coated wisdom makes her work accessible and relatable. Perhaps it’s easier to take advice from another parent who had to figure it out “from scratch.” Then Telaina’s your person.
How should you use this book? Use it to educate yourself on basic terms, to understand what your child might be going through, to gain awareness of your emotions and your blind spots, and to learn tools for handling adversity. The book starts out with the fundamentals of “coming out” and mourning your own loss, which is where you might be right now. Chapter 2 discusses LGBTQ history and very hot topics like science and religion. Read about preteens, teens, and bullying in Chapters 3 and 4. Chapter 5 is all about how YOU, the parent, can get help for yourself. She also includes information on bisexual and transgender identities, which often get left out. She discusses how to be an ally, extracurriculars, college, and dating in the latter half of the book. And each chapter includes a handy dos and don’ts list, narratives from LGBTQ people, and recommended articles, books, and videos.
This book was enjoyable, informative, and easy to consume. I learned a lot even as an experienced therapist and advocate, and I very much look forward to using it with my clients and friends. It truly reminds me why parenting is the most difficult and insomnia-inducing job in the world, but also why it could be the most deeply rewarding and ultimately the most beneficial for society: it’s about teaching people how to love. I hope you learn how to love more deeply through this book.
Take good care,
Mimi Hoang, Ph.D.
December 2016 Los Angeles, CA
Chances are if you’re reading this book, your child has told you that they are not heterosexual, or they might be questioning their gender or their identity in some way. Or perhaps you suspect your child might be queer, and may not know how or whether you should talk to them about their gender and/or sexual orientation. The good news is, you are living in a better time to parent your LGBTQ child than at any previous time in history. People can legally marry their same-sex partners. LGBTQ people can openly serve in our country’s military. In many municipalities throughout the United States, LGBTQ people can no longer be fired from their jobs just because of their gender identity or sexual orientation. LGBTQ people are in the media (Anderson Cooper, Don Lemon, Rachel Maddow) and there are positive role models of LGBTQ people in movies, television (Ellen Degeneres, LaVerne Cox, Neil Patrick Harris, Alan Cumming, and a host of others), sports (John Amaechi, Orlando Cruz, Brittney Griner), politics (Jared Polis, Mike Takano, Kate Brown), business (Tim Cook, Megan Smith), and literature (Alice Walker, David Sedaris, Rita Mae Brown, Gore Vidal). And I’m writing this book in 2016, an Olympic year, and the number of out USA Olympic athletes with inspirational stories is truly amazing.1
Many teens are coming out earlier and earlier, feeling safe at their middle or high schools and with their families and their friend group. Older kids (and their parents!) have access to the Internet, with its wealth of information, support, resources, and community. (Almost three-quarters of LGBTQ teens say they are more honest about themselves online than they are in the real world.)
But. But. According to research and youth surveys,2 40 percent of LGBTQ youth say they live in communities that are not accepting of LGBTQ people. LGBTQ youth are still twice as likely to be physically assaulted at school (kicked, shoved, or hit). Twenty-six percent of LGBTQ youth say their biggest problems are not being accepted by their family, being bullied at school, and fear of coming out. Ninety-two percent of LGBTQ teens say that they hear negative messages about LGBTQ people at school, on the Internet, and among their friends. In the United States, 1.6 million youth experience homelessness each year. Of that number, 40 percent of those youth identify as LGBTQ.3
According to A Healthy Chicago for LGBT Youth,4 LGBTQ youth were more likely to report depression and depressive symptoms, suicide attempts, and self-injury. They were more likely to be underweight and vomit to lose weight. They were more likely to report risky sex behaviors, to not have had proper HIV education, and were more likely to become pregnant (I know this seems strange, but LGBTQ youth are less likely to use a birth control method if they engage in heterosexual sex). LGBTQ youth were also more likely than their heterosexual cisgender (those who identity with the gender in which they were born) counterparts to use tobacco, alcohol, and marijuana. They were also more likely to experience sexual violence and victimization. The paper’s abstract concludes, “Due to the presence of these disparities at such a young age, they are likely to influence the health and well-being of LGBTQ Chicagoans throughout their lifespans.” I’m not a social science researcher, but I think one could easily imagine that the data in Chicago probably is a fair reflection of the rest of the United States.
That’s a lot to take in. Parenting, an enterprise already fraught with worry (breast-feeding, formula