The Extraordinary Journey of Raising Queer Kids as a Straight Dad
My wife and I have three kids. The eldest, Zoe Fable, will be 16 this November; our middle child, Autumn Story, turned 13 last April; and our youngest, Valor Phoenix, turns 11 a week and a half after Zoe. Aside from being remarkably intelligent, creative, and kind, our three kids have another thing in common: they’re all queer.
Zoe was always athletically gifted, excelling at practically every sport and martial art she pursued. She loves Nerf guns and ninja turtles, Transformers, phasers, and lightsabers. Her mom always struggled to get her to wear dresses, and much to her disappointment, Zoe’s fashion sense leaned closer to mine. From the time she learned to walk and talk, Zoe behaved like a tomboy, so when she came out as a lesbian at 12, it wasn’t too much of a surprise.
On the other hand, Autumn was always a Daddy’s Girl, a cutie who took ballet, loved fashion, princesses, ponies and plushies. During lockdown, Autumn came out to us as nonbinary, turning our world upside down. Part of us already expected Zoe to be gay, but nothing could’ve prepared us for Autumn’s revelation that they were never fully comfortable being boxed into one gender. It took us a long time to adjust to using they/them pronouns and on a personal level, I was sad and even hurt that I no longer had my Daddy’s Girl.
Before we’d fully wrapped our heads around the idea of a nonbinary child — the term ‘daughter’ no longer applied — Valor soon after told us that he was gay. At this point, it almost felt like we were being Punk’d. My son’s full first name is Hugo Valor Phoenix V, named after me the same way I was named after my dad, who was named after his dad, who was named after his dad. Although I was actually quite content to have two daughters, my wife was determined to give me a son. Being Chinese, she felt duty-bound to give birth to a boy and there was the unspoken pressure of having someone continue my name. A Hugo VI doesn’t seem very likely now.
My wife and I joked to our kids that we’re so straight we could be used as rulers, a CisHet couple who’ve never been attracted to anyone of the same sex. I was raised in a homophobic environment, where “gay” was a derogatory term. My dad, one of fourteen children, had one brother who stayed in the closet up until his death a few years ago. It was “don’t ask, don’t tell.” Aside from one gay aunt, both my wife’s and my families were, as far as knew, all straight. Neither of us were prepared to have a gay kid, let alone three. We were in uncharted territory.
I used to be a homophobe. If I’m being honest, there’s a small part of me that probably still is. As a young boy, some of my uncles teased me as “baks,” short for bakla or gay, because I was bookish, nerdy, and wasn’t into sports. It was only much later that I grew to love sports and embrace my athleticism, but I wonder now if it was in response to all the ridicule. I cracked politically incorrect jokes and made fun of things by calling them “gay.” Now and then, I still catch myself right before I crack a joke. Old habits die hard.
My children taught me more about kindness and compassion than the Catholic Church.
Over time, I unlearned many of my bad ideas. The world is changing for the better, little by little, and I’m glad to change with it. I realized that my discomfort and disappointment at Autumn coming out had nothing to do with them and everything to do with me. It was selfish to think that I deserved a Daddy’s Girl when I fully embraced Zoe coming out because she was basically a mini-me. Autumn deserved the acceptance I gave Zoe even if their pronouns confused and surprised me. When Autumn asked for a binder to make them look less feminine, it made my heart heavy realizing they were no longer my little Cinderella. But because I never could say no to them, I immediately hopped on to Amazon and bought some binders that had good reviews.
It was good that Zoe and Autumn had come out before Valor because by the time he admitted he was gay, my wife and I were no longer surprised. There wasn’t even much disappointment in the realization that he might be the last Hugo Yonzon. Part of me felt relief, because I never want my children to feel obligated to do something simply out of tradition. A sixth would be nice, but we aren’t popes or kings. Neither do we have the wealth or social status to be featured on Tatler or be on some hoity-toity list. Hugo V, my beautiful boy, makes me happy just as he is.
As soon as my wife and I overcame our patriarchal, homophobic upbringings, our disappointment slowly metamorphosed into fear. The truth is, as much as this world may be changing, a lot of it stays the same. Zoe was outed in grade school, after she confessed to a classmate that she was attracted to her. Word spread and she was bullied, shamed, and repeatedly reminded by her Catholic school’s nuns and religious teachers that being gay was a sin. She developed internalized homophobia and began to self-harm.
I love my children so much that I can’t imagine preventing them from living their truths.
My wife and I realized that this world isn’t kind to queer people. On social media, the comments section on every post about the LGBTQIA+, particularly the SOGIE Bill, festered with hateful words. Often, the intolerance and hate would be accompanied with Bible quotes. The Catholic Church, the single most powerful institution in the country, continues to shape legislation and societal attitudes. We’re the only other country in the entire world apart from the tiny city-state of the Vatican that doesn’t allow divorce, what hope did we have for gay marriage?
When COVID broke out and the world stopped, we gave our children a choice of whether to stay in their respective Catholic schools through online classes or to stop schooling and pursue learning on their own. Autumn opted for enrollment but eventually quit after a year. Pulling the kids out of school might have been the best thing to happen to our family. We spent more time with each other than ever before and grew to appreciate and understand one another better.
I learned more about gender and sexuality in the past few years than I have in my almost fifty years of life. My children taught me more about kindness and compassion than the Catholic Church. Even as a nominal, non-practicing Catholic, I aspired to imitate Jesus in everything I do, so when my children came out, I asked myself, “What would Jesus do?”
And the answer was love.
I love my children so much that I can’t imagine preventing them from living their truths. I’ve seen firsthand the damage it can cause, the trauma of being told they were at fault for something they didn’t choose. It made absolutely no sense to me and the only correct response as a parent and a Christian was to love them. Wholly, unconditionally, and more and more each day. As parents, we discipline our children when they do something wrong. It’s our duty to guide them and steer them towards the right path. But being queer wasn’t something my children did, it was who they were. Why should they be punished for being true to themselves?
The more we celebrate and speak up for the LGBTQIA+, the louder and more violent the bigotry gets.
My wife and I once met with my late uncle’s friend and she told us the story of how, after several disastrous experiences with men, she jokingly told him how she wanted to be gay. He took it badly and wrote her a long, impassioned letter that exhorted her not to be gay. He described how difficult life would be and that he didn’t want that life for her. My uncle Leo was a wonderful and funny human being who learned all my Lola’s recipes, pursued and excelled at many artistic interests, and was into fitness as much as my wife and I were. The family knew he was gay, but we never talked about it. His boyfriends were always just friends with whom he played tennis or adopted dogs with.
We only understood what that all meant when we were adults. In January 2016, my uncle died from an undisclosed illness that ravaged his body in a way we recognized from the movie Philadelphia.
The world is unkind to gay people. The more we celebrate and speak up for the LGBTQIA+, the louder and more violent the bigotry gets. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse is one of the best animated films of all time but is banned in the United Arab Emirates because of a single scene in Gwen Stacy’s room that showed a poster saying “Protect Trans Kids." The ban ironically proves the point of the poster and it terrifies us as parents of queer kids.
The world is so full of hate that as parents of queer children we need to work doubly hard to protect them. When gender dysphoria is dismissed as a "woke agenda,” it reinforces homophobia and breeds intolerance. We wanted to create as safe a space at home for our children to express who they were without being judged because we can only protect them so much.
At its heart, queerness is really just that: love.
With our encouragement and support, our children blossomed in surprising and phenomenal ways. Zoe Fable continues to show promise and potential as an athlete, coaching Brazilian Jiu-jitsu at 15. Autumn Story threw themself into their art and revealed themself to be more like me than we ever realized, with far better fashion sense and looks from their mother. Hugo Valor Phoenix is equally artistic and is the gentlest soul of the three. Our kids are growing and evolving so fast that we can’t look away—and we can’t be bothered to entertain any homophobic ideas because it takes away from the time we have to appreciate them.
The thing is, our kids are gay, but they aren’t just gay. It’s just a part of who they are, it doesn’t define them any more than being straight defines me. They’re artists, athletes, dancers, gamers, (terrible) singers, bakers — they’re filled with so much potential and excitement for life that it’s so much fun to watch. We can’t imagine burdening them with the notion that they’re doing anything wrong simply for being who they are. Who has time for that?
I thank the universe for my queer kids. Letting go of my bigotry and learning to love them deeply and completely gave me fuller understanding of Christ. I am bursting with so much love for them that it made me think, “If I love them this much, I can’t even imagine how much more God loves because His love is my love multiplied by infinity.” Regardless of what you believe in, you might agree with me that love is one of the driving forces of the universe. My children, because of their queerness, have taught me how to love. At its heart, queerness is really just that: love. The freedom to love. As a straight dad who loves his queer kids, I will fight tooth and nail for a kinder, more compassionate world where love trumps bigotry and hate. It’s a long journey ahead, but I will be with them every step of the way.
Also read:
I Never Got to Find Out if My Dad Was Proud of Me
Thinking of My Father, the OFW, and the Tragedy of Being 'Modern-Day Heroes'
