My 10-year-old says she’s bisexual. What should I say?

Dear Sex and The Shtetl,
My 10-year-old says she's bisexual. I think she's too young to be anything sexual. How do I hose her down without sounding homophobic?
Oy Vay in the Bay

Dear Oy Vay in the Bay, 

Firstly, thank you for writing in with your question. It takes guts to admit you’re out of your depth and parenting in a contemporary shtetl is basically a Maccabi Games of “being out of your depth.” Welcome to the pool (there are no floaties). 

Now let’s gently peel back the lycra layers of your concern, because beneath the surface of your (questionable) phrasing, I hear genuine confusion and possibly fear: fear of your child growing up ‘too fast’, fear of saying the wrong thing, fear of not understanding what your child needs from you right now. And a fear of sounding homophobic.

Here’s the thing: the goal isn’t to avoid sounding homophobic. The goal is to not be homophobic. Sticky little difference I know, but bear with me, because when we prioritise how we sound over how we are, we become like those people who whisper the word “gay” in case someone hears, or refer to a partner as “a special friend” with a wink. You know - accidental homophobes. 

Let’s start with your belief that your 10-year-old is “too young to be anything sexual.” You might be surprised to hear that bisexuality isn’t just about sex. Just like being straight isn’t about sex: think the 10-year-old who says she’s Brent Rivera’s future girlfriend or the kid who insists on watching Yechiel Jacobs’ Instagram opus (via your account) for ‘Jewish Studies Research.’ Kids talk about love and connection and crushes all the time but it seems to only raise red flags when queerness is involved. That’s something to notice.

Your child’s identity is not a phase to be ignored or a fire to be extinguished, but a part of her journey into tweenhood

Oy Vay in the Bay, let me assure you: your daughter is not on fire. She hasn’t had an unfortunate run in with detergent on a slip and slide. She hasn’t shat herself. She’s a 10-year-old kid who told you she’s bisexual - not someone who needs to be hit with a high-pressure blast of cold water after rolling around in the dust at a Negev doof with an off-duty soldier she’s known for five minutes. 

Words matter. Phrasing matters. So when you reach for “hose her down,” it tells me something: not necessarily about how you feel about your daughter (I have no doubt you love her), but about your discomfort. That phrase is soaked (pardon the pun) in panic. It suggests her bisexuality is dangerous, inappropriate, combustible. Something to suppress or neutralise. Something urgent. And that’s where we need to pause.

Because this isn’t about urgency. This is about a young person telling you something real about who she is, how she feels - how she sees herself. It might change and evolve. It might solidify. It doesn't matter at this point. What matters now is that she trusted you with it. Your child’s identity is not a phase to be ignored or a fire to be extinguished, but a part of her journey into tweenhood. A part she’s inviting you into. (Accept the invites while they last babe.) 

You haven’t asked, but I feel compelled to offer you some guidance now. 

Step one: breathe.
Step two: listen.
Step three: get curious, not cautious.

Say something like, “Thanks for telling me that. Do you want to talk more about what that means to you?” You’re not asking them to sign any legal documents. You’re just being a safe space.

And if your daughter’s response makes you squirm a bit? That’s okay. But the work isn’t about hosing her down - it’s about cooling yourself off. Run your own cold shower and examine where the discomfort is coming from. Is it fear? Ignorance? Your own upbringing? That’s your homework, not hers.

Remember: the world is full of people who will try to “hose her down.” It’s your job to hand your daughter the towel.