I came out to my mother multiple times. The first time I did it, I thought I was bisexual, mostly because I didn’t think there was anything else. I told her what I considered myself to be and she thought I was joking, or mouthing off out of anger because we were arguing at the time. Later I came out as pansexual because I learned that was a thing and I thought that it encapsulated me well. Eventually, while my mom and I were arguing over an essay I’d written,* concerning the number of people who didn’t know what it meant to be asexual, I came out as asexual to her. The essay was prompted by my friend, after I came out to him, thinking I was some kind of nun who thought sex was a sin and hated the idea of it (not true), but also in conjunction with a school assignment to write an essay about what we believe. We argued over the essay, mainly the fact that I thought people ought to make more of an effort to include asexual characters in the media whereas my mom thought it wasn’t that necessary. During the discussion, I actually forgot my mom didn’t know I was ace and mentioned it. She didn’t say much about it and I think since then she’s actually forgotten. She never brings it up, something she didn’t do before either. Her philosophy is that as long as I’m happy and happy with myself, my sexuality is my business. Just don’t shove it in her face 24/7, I guess. Coming out was pretty chill for me.

*Link to essay: http://wp.me/p7Xoax-z