I can?t say it was the first time I?d been showered in glitter by dancing men in gold Speedos, but it was the first time with my 12-year old son. As raunchy, infectious Caribbean beats intermingled with bass-heavy techno, my son waved his hands in the air, bouncing back and forth on his tiptoes with excitement while watching the kaleidoscope of floats make their way down Yonge Street in Toronto. A group of LGBTQ+ teens sashayed by us, queer men and women of the military marched by, and Miss Teen Drag Queen, who strutted in six-inch heels, stopped to kneel in her tight white short shorts and embrace two tiny fans in a huge hug. I saw my son?s eyes and smile grow wide, experiencing such a genuine moment of unhindered love.
Photo: Courtesy of Eden Boudreau As a bisexual woman, I was proud to stand by my son as he explored what his sexuality meant to him on a grand scale. At that moment, I knew without a doubt that allowing him this opportunity was the right choice.
When he had started asking to go to Toronto?s Pride Parade several months earlier, I wish my immediate answer had been a resounding ?Yes!? I had noticed his curiosity about sex and relationships and who could love who long before he discovered Pride Month. But even as an open-minded, non-traditional queer woman, I hesitated. I was worried and felt overly protective?not because I was concerned about him ?catching gay,? like a few parents on the playground worried, but because I couldn?t help but think, What will he g...