I had to come out to my mom twice before she even acknowledged my queerness. The first time was in 11th grade when I told her, “Mummy, I’m bisexual” (I didn’t know the word ‘pansexual yet, and anyway, sexuality is always evolving).
Her response? A flat “No, you’re not” and that was the end of it. I’d like to say I was surprised, but I wasn’t. Growing up, we didn’t really talk about sex or sexuality. I mean, to explain menstruation, she just handed me a pamphlet that came with a pack of sanitary pads… and that was it. So, even though I was sure of who I was, it didn’t feel like the safest environment to open up.
Fast forward to my second year of college. By now, I had a long-term girlfriend. So, I decided to try again. This time, I didn’t lead with the whole "bisexual" thing; instead, I told her I had a girlfriend. She went a little blank for a second, and then just said, “Okay.” Honestly, I didn’t know if she was in shock, didn’t care, or was just processing everything. Then I casually asked her to guess who it was. She paused and looked at me like I was giving her an easy quiz. “It’s A, right/ She always comes over during the summer vacation, sleeps in your bedroom, and is super affectionate with you.”
And she was right.
After that, it didn’t take long for my mom to get used to the idea. She started treating my girlfriend like she was her own child, which, honestly, was a huge step forward for us. She even thanked me for not being attracted to men, because, in her words, “men ruin girls”. That was… an interesting perspective to say the least.
But here’s the thing. As much as I’m relieved that my mom is finally okay with my queerness, there's still a part of me that has to hide. I’m pansexual and polyamorous, and I’m still attracted to men. I date people. Which includes men. I also date other women. It’s just who I am—my attraction isn’t defined by gender. I can’t tell my mom that part of the story, though. She’d never understand. So, for now, I keep it to myself. It’s a weird situation to be in—small victories, big contradictions. But I’ll take it for now.
The funny thing is, my mom has already started hoarding jewelry for both me and my girlfriend for whenever we can legally get married. The thought of her doing that is so heartwarming, but I can’t help but feel a pang of sadness, knowing my dad wouldn’t be there for that moment. Not because he’d be dead or something dramatic, but because I don’t think I’ll ever come out to him. Nor to my extended family. That’s just the reality I’ve accepted.
My real regret is that my maternal grandmother died before I could come out to her. She always told me not to trust or build a life with a man. I wish I could tell her that she needn’t have worried. I’m with a wonderful woman instead. I think she would’ve understood, and I like to think that, wherever she is now, she’d be happy for me.
Let me be clear, though—there is no "right" time to come out. The decision to tell your parents, or anyone for that matter, is deeply personal and varies for each individual. Some people have the privilege of coming out to their families early in life, some never do, and others, like me, take years to fully open up. It all depends on your safety, your emotional readiness, and your relationship with your family.
Take this Reddit post from a user in r/comingout, for example: “I ended up telling her I was born in the wrong body, and that I want to be a man, and her response really took me by surprise LOL "That's fine, you can be one!". And then she asked me about my sexuality and she was accepting of me being bi leaning towards men too!”
On the other hand, there are people who came out, and it didn’t go very well. One Redditor shared, “I came out to my parents last week, they are very traditional first generation Italian immigrants who have a very particular set of beliefs regarding men loving each other. Immediately after they told me to never speak to them again and my brothers all told me the same. I’m alone and sad that I can’t love who I want and keep my family.”
And then there’s another Reddit user who had a breakthrough moment after years of uncertainty: “My name is Tony Sanchez, I am 63 years old, and today I announced to my kids and grandkids that I am a proud gay man. I am still very emotional but I am overjoyed that my family was so supportive. Thank you to those who offered advice on my previous post here.”
These varied experiences illustrate that there’s no one-size-fits-all answer. The "right time" to come out is subjective and depends on individual circumstances, including personal safety, emotional readiness, and the anticipated reaction of one's parents.
Ultimately, the decision to come out should be based on your comfort level and personal situation. There’s no pressure to disclose your identity before you’re ready. Seek support from trusted friends, LGBTQ+ communities, or mental health professionals as you navigate this journey.
Also, check out our blogs on 5 folks share their experiences of queer joy and evolving portrayals of sexualities in pop culture
About the Author:
Madhu (she/her) has been an avid reader of all things spicy since her childhood. She writes sassy blog posts and listicles now so that others may benefit from her wholly inappropriate, wholly informative tastes, too.
