Written by Kristina Graham
As parents, we all know our kids come with wildly different personalities, quirks, and snack preferences. Some are picky eaters. Some love glitter. Some eat glitter. Each one is a whole dang ecosystem of likes, dislikes, strengths, and “no thank yous.”
Let’s take my eldest son, for example. I knew by the time he was four that he was headed into the military. He marched everywhere, barked orders at the dog, and preferred camo to cartoons. The only question was which branch. My mom-heart always hoped for logistics. Maybe mechanics. Something with gears and grease—not grenades. But I knew. Deep down, I knew. This kid wasn’t going to sit behind a desk. He wanted action. So when he enlisted as a rifleman in the United States Marine Corps, I wasn’t surprised. Terrified? Absolutely. But surprised? Not one bit.
Now, I could write an entire novel about each of my kids and what they’re clearly destined to do (and I probably will), but for now, a quick snapshot:
1) Youngest daughter: Future cosmetologist. Hair, nails, fierce opinions on eyeliner—non-negotiable. MUST CONTAIN GLITTER.
2) Middle daughter: Project manager of the century. She’s 13 and already builds better PowerPoints than most adults. ITINERARY QUEEN.
3) Oldest daughter: A fine arts major in the making with a heart for therapeutic art. Her work will make you cry in the best way. FRIDA KAHLO WHO?
4) Other son: Future NFL hopeful. He’s talented, determined, and while college might not be his path due to intellectual disabilities and impulse control, we know he’ll find his stride. LOOKOUT LADAINIAN TOMLINSON.
But here’s the twist most of us don’t see coming: You can’t predict your child’s identity. You don’t get a crystal ball for gender, sexual orientation, or the deep inner feelings of who they are. And that, my friends, is where parenting really gets interesting.
I’m raising five kids. Yes, one wears a Marine Corps uniform and can most definitely assemble a rifle blindfolded—but let’s be real, he’s still my baby. Out of the five, two currently identify as LGBTQ+. Before any of them ever came out, I used to lie awake at night wondering: What if one of my kids tells me they’re gay? Bi? Trans? Will I say the wrong thing? Will I freeze up and fumble the moment? Will I scar them for life with some well-meaning but cringeworthy response?
Then the moment came. My oldest daughter told me she thought she was a lesbian. She was 12. Cue internal monologue: Was it the tomboy phase? Was it COVID isolation? Is it genetic? Did my husband’s post-stroke grumpiness turn her off men forever? (Listen, the man went from Barney the purple dinosaur – I love you, you love me, to Oscar the Grouch in record time.)
But then it hit me—what the heck was I doing? My Marine son had just come back from deployment to find out his wife (that he ran off and married without telling us) had been starring in very public films on a certain subscription-based website… with the UPS guy…throughout his nine-month deployment. Let that marinate for a moment.
You want to talk about life choices? That’s the one I should be questioning. That’s what I should be losing my mind over. My daughter loving another girl? Yeah, no trauma there—unless her partner forgets her birthday. Love is love. Respect is respect. That’s what matters.
Then came my next daughter. One day, I saw that she was identifying as he/him and using the name Elliott online and with friends. Over time, Elliott became they/them, and recently she’s returned to her given name and she/her at home, while still using Elliott with friends. Her girlfriend? She’s gone through a similar evolution. Right now, they both identify as “questioning.” And that’s okay. They’re figuring it out. That’s what adolescence is for—figuring out who you are, what you believe, what hairstyle will make your mom question her life choices, and which concert you simply have to go to next.
Now for the real kicker. We moved from inclusive, rainbow-wrapped Florida to… the Bible Belt of upstate South Carolina. And let me tell you, the social climate here is less “PRIDE Month” and more “Did someone say sin parade?” They prefer more fire and brimstone up here, and y’all better eighty-six the glitter cannons.
Imagine being 13 and unable to tell your parents that you’re queer because they’d rather quote Leviticus than hug you. Imagine being kicked out of your home because of who you love. Imagine hearing that God doesn’t love you unless you conform. I REFUSE to let that be my kids’ reality.
So what do we do? We open our doors. ALL of my kids’ LGBTQ+ and straight friends come to our house—all the dang time. Our home has become their safe space. Gay, straight, lesbian, bi, trans, non-binary, questioning, transitioning—doesn’t matter. If you need a place where you and your pronouns are respected, your name is used, and nobody side-eyes your identity, our house is it.
We listen. We support. We love.
So here’s my message to every parent, caregiver, grandparent, or random adult who stumbled on this blog:
👉🏼 Be the safe space.
Because your kid—and every kid—deserves to be loved exactly as they are.
About the Author
Kristina Graham serves as the Grant Administrator and Grant Writer for Children’s Harbor, Inc., where she has spent the past five years securing funding that helps break cycles and transform the lives of children and families in need.
Originally from Rochester, New York, Kristina moved to Boca Raton, Florida, in 2004. She later settled with her family in the Weston–Pembroke Pines–Miramar area, where they lived for over 15 years.
From 2009 to 2016, Kristina was a licensed foster parent in Florida. During that time, she and her family welcomed more than 35 children into their home—ranging from drug-exposed newborns to teenagers facing deep emotional trauma. Their journey through foster care led to the adoption of four children, expanding their family from three to seven. Parenthood through foster care adoption brought both joy and complexity, as each child faced unique challenges including intellectual and physical disabilities, emotional dysregulation, learning differences, and ongoing mental health needs.
With five children now ages 24, 16, 15, 12, and 12, Kristina is deeply immersed in the world of teens and pre-teens. Her days are filled with doctor visits, therapy sessions, IEP meetings, school conferences, and a nonstop rotation of activities like football, cheerleading, band, art, and youth group. Kristina also prioritizes maintaining connections with her children’s biological families—an important part of their healing journey.
In 2022, the family relocated to a home on Lake Hartwell in South Carolina, trading palm trees for pines and embracing the peaceful rhythm of lake life. Though life is rarely quiet, they do their best to enjoy the slower pace and natural beauty of lake living.
Kristina holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in Business Administration and wears many creative and professional hats. She freelances as an editor, ghostwrites romance novels, mentors new foster parents, and provides graphic design services to various businesses and charitable organizations. Deeply rooted in her faith and community, Kristina is an active member of her church and regularly volunteers her time to support local initiatives and families in need.
