"Mommy, what's gay?"

“Mommy, what’s gay?” This question, posed by my eight year old son just days ago, was one I should have been – but was not – prepared to answer. In order to bide myself some thinking time, I asked him what he meant and why he was asking. His question came after he and his classmates saw a theater production where two men were kissing on stage. (Whether or not watching anyone kissing on stage is appropriate for their age group is another discussion entirely.) After the show, another boy said to him that when two men kiss, it means they are gay. The little boy also told my son that “that meant they are weird.”

I sucked in my breath and tried to calm the anger that was rising in me about the “weird” label. I had to explain this right; what I said now could potentially affect my son’s relationships for the rest of his life. But I had not even had the “birds and bees” discussion with him yet; he was only eight!

I fleetingly wondered if I was behind in having “the talk.” Clearly, some of the other kids were already in the know. Regardless, here we were, driving down the familiar, tree-lined streets on the way home from school, suddenly having a very important discussion. I pulled over so I could speak to him without any distractions.

My first reaction was to tell him that calling anyone “weird” – for any reason – was mean, judgmental, and inappropriate. He knew that; he accepted it and we moved on. He told me he was confused, that he didn’t think boys kissed each other, and that he didn’t want to kiss his best friend. I told him that some boys do kiss each other, and some boys kiss girls, and some girls kiss girls. He told me that made him uncomfortable, and I immediately felt the waves of parenting failure wash over me. “What makes you uncomfortable,” I asked. “KISSING!” he yelled and made a face. Well, ok, I thought, that’s normal for an eight year old.

But we weren’t done. There was more to be said here, and I knew it.

Before I could speak, he asked me, again, if boys kissing each other meant that they were gay. I simply said yes, still not knowing if I was handling this correctly. Being in any relationship was about so much more than just kissing. And I also wasn’t ready to discuss anyone’s sexuality yet; I felt he wasn’t ready, plus my husband and I hadn’t even decided how and when we’d have this discussion with him.

Where in the Parenting 101 manual were the instructions on this? I suddenly wished we were back six years ago when the hardest discussion we had was negotiating over apple juice or water. I started to panic, and I quickly realized that my anxiety was going to translate into some negative perception on his part.

Then I remembered what a dear friend, who is gay, told me not too long ago when we were discussing how to introduce these concepts to children so that they would not bully their gay peers. She said to me that parents should focus on relationships, not sex, and that that would be the best introduction for any child, straight or gay.

And she was right – it was not about kissing or who you were having sex with. So I told my son that sometimes boys love boys and sometimes girls love boys or girls love girls. He immediately asked me whether one couple that are friends of ours were gay, and it was like a light bulb went on for him. He already understood on some level that these couples were in a relationship that was different from him and his best friend, or me and my close girlfriends.

But now the relationships had a label, and that made me a little sad. I hoped that he wouldn’t let labels get in the way of future relationships. I hoped – hope – that straight or gay, he will stand up for himself and his peers. And I hope that this sudden introduction into a mature world provides him with a sense of acceptance – of himself and those around him.

He thought for a minute, then he smiled at me, shrugged nonchalantly, and said, “Well, I guess love is love.” And that was it.

All my stress about the sex talk was unfounded and unnecessary. It was about relationships, about people connecting at a spiritual level, and about love. He understood at an innocent eight years old what some adults can’t fully grasp. I was thankful that an unexpected question led to this discussion, and I’m only sorry I didn’t broach the subject sooner.

As we began to drive again, my son sat silently for a while, then asked me, “Mom, is it OK if I don’t kiss anyone right now, boys or girls? ‘Cause I think kissing is disgusting.” I stifled a laugh, and with a grateful heart, I told him it would be just fine if he didn’t kiss anyone for at least another decade. He may be eight, but – maybe for just a little while longer – he can still be my baby.

* This article originally appeared on The Mommy Vortex.