I was invited to walk or float with the Bi contingent in the Pride Parade this year, and although I wanted to, I really struggled with myself over bringing it up with the kids. Not so much because I had a problem with them knowing I am bisexual–but more because I don’t want them to think of me as sexual. When I was younger I thought I would be more open with my kids, but after exposing my son to my daughter’s abusive father I have been clandestine about my dating.
It took three years for me to even think of dating again–or to believe anyone was interested–I was that damaged. But when I did, I resolved not to introduce anyone I was seeing to my kids until I was fairly serious about them–and then I would introduce them as a friend unless I thought they were the one. I’m so used to keeping them out of that part of my life that I agonized about bringing the Parade up with my family and waited until the last minute to do so.
But–as it turns out-I needn’t have bothered.
The kids barely heard the words Bisexual, Gay, or Pride. The only word they heard was Parade. My Daughter loves parades; she clamored to go. My Son hates them, and my parents agreed to watch him.
All that worry–for what?
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