What to Do When Someone Comes Out to You
It's pretty simple, really.

Unless you live as a hermit on a mountaintop, at some point in your life someone you know is going to come out to you as trans, or gay, or bisexual, or something else in the ever-broadening queer rainbow. When that moment comes, how will you respond?
Maybe you’re in that situation now. Maybe you suspect someone in your life—a friend, a child, a co-worker—is queer and is about to come out to you. Or maybe someone did come out to you and you found your way here in wondering what to say to them.
Or maybe this has already happened, but you already responded in a way you now regret. In which case, don’t worry. We’ll get to that.
If you’re in any such situation, this article is for you.
Let’s not bury the lead
The correct response when a queer person comes out to you is simple, and doesn’t need a lot of explaining beforehand:
You smile. You show your excitement. You say, “I’m so happy for you! How wonderful that you’ve finally found what you need to be happy in your life.” If the vibe of the situation feels right, offer them a hug.
That’s it. That’s the secret. Just be happy for the person. Because when someone comes out, that’s good news.
This is a person who has very probably gone through some shit to reach this point. But here they are, knowing themselves in a deep and true way. That’s a good thing! That should be celebrated! So that’s your job: you don’t have to use the exact words I put above. All you have to do is center your response in joy and celebration.

It works for any queer coming out
No matter what kind of queer someone is coming out as, this response because all such coming-outs have some things in common:
A history of people believing/assuming that you’re different—gay vs. straight, trans vs. cis—from how you actually are,
A self-recognition that your identity does not match what everyone has always assumed, and a process of coming to terms with that and learning to embrace it,
An awareness that the discrepancy between who you are vs. what everyone else believes has led to a discrepancy between the inauthentic life you’re living vs. the authentic life that would be better for you,
An awareness (often after years of trying and failing) that you simply cannot be truly happy so long as you are living your life in an inauthentic manner.
When a queer person comes out, it is because on some level they recognize all of that and have decided that they’re simply not willing to continue living in a way that’s inauthentic and making them miserable. Because inauthenticity has become intolerable.
Maybe what they’re saying is that they can’t be truly happy and fulfilled in their life unless they can openly love the person they love.
Maybe what they’re saying is that they can’t be truly happy and fulfilled in their life unless they can openly love anybody they’re attracted to, regardless of that person’s gender identity or expression, without having to somehow justify it for others.
Maybe what they’re saying is that they can’t be truly happy and fulfilled in their life unless their life correctly reflects their identity and shows that identity to the world.
Maybe it’s all of those things.
But whatever the specifics of somebody’s individual kind of queer, coming out represents a decision to pursue happiness. It represents an awareness that, for them, the very possibility of happiness is precluded unless they come out and start living as their most authentic self.
Whatever the specifics, it’s ultimately always about seeking a happier life. And that’s why a response that’s centered in joy and celebration works, no matter what.
Why this is the correct response
When you react with joy and celebration, you are signaling several things that deeply matter.
First, because the response recognizes the core drive for happiness that is behind coming out and the urge to live authentically.
Second, because it signals that you love them. After all, when you love someone, you should want them to be happy. They’re coming out in order to pursue happiness. So, yes, you should want that for them!
Third, because it implicitly trusts the person and affirms the inherent truth of what they’re saying and their sole authority to know themselves and what’s best for them.
Nothing in this response says “oh, really?” Nothing in it says “I’m skeptical.” Nothing in it says “are you sure?” Nothing in it demands proof or justification of any kind. It’s just pure joy. Pure celebration. Pure acceptance. Which is what the person really needs from you.
What about “I love you. No matter what”?
A common response to a coming out is “Well, you know I love you. No matter what.” A ride-or-die kind of response. And I’ll be clear: that’s still a good response. You could do a hell of a lot worse than that.
But there’s a backhanded side to “no matter what,” as well. You may not intend it, but it’s there. Consider the difference between “I love you”—full stop—“I love you. No matter what.”
Tacking the addendum on there carries of a whiff of something having to be excused within your love for the person. That you love them despite the thing they’re coming out about. As though there’s something bad about it that you are overcoming in order to still love the person.
But there’s nothing bad about being gay or trans or any kind of queer. There’s nothing that should need to be excused or overcome. (Except, potentially, your own biases.)
Not everyone will hear it that way; some people will hear it in the ride-or-die spirit you probably meant it. But you can’t know how someone else is going to hear it, and for some people “No matter what” will carry the same vibe as “yes, you dropped that sack of puppies in the river, but I still love you anyway.”
Which doesn’t feel great, you know? If you are my friend, or my co-worker, or my sibling, I don’t want you to love me in spite of something essential about my identity as a person. I want you to love me because of what’s essential about my identity as a person. Which, among my many other attributes, includes my queerness.
Don’t make it about you
After the joy, you may be tempted to add something like “but I don’t understand.” Or perhaps this was your immediate instinct, even before the joy. Please don’t. This moment of someone else’s coming is not about you. It’s about the person doing the coming out. The person who is doing the really hard thing of claiming their identity as part of a marginalized group, knowing full well what that means for their life.
Maybe you don’t understand. Maybe you have a whole host of complicated thoughts and feelings about someone’s queerness. Let me be clear, that’s ok! But right now is most definitely not the time to address those thoughts and feelings.
Stick with the joy. There will be time later for you to process your own feelings, on your own. Time to educate yourself, on your own. It’s not the other person’s job to counsel you through your feelings or to educate you on those things. There’s a whole internet out there, and a lot of resources you can access. Though if they offer, if they tell you you’re welcome to ask them questions, you can take them up on it.
Just, please. Let them savor the joy first.
What’s not your job
You may have an urge or instinct, when someone comes out, to worry for them or want to warn the person about the ramifications of their queerness. You might want to say “You’re sure choosing a hard path” or “But aren’t you worried about bigotry being used against you?” etc.
Don’t.
That’s not your job. Just don’t do it.
I get where you’re coming from. If this is an important person in your life, you may very well be concerned for what’s going to happen to them. For how the world is going to treat them as a queer person. But it’s not your job to do that.
Why? Because whatever concerns you have for this person who is trusting you with their authentic self, I guarantee you they have already thought about them. Whatever pops into your mind to worry about, they have already lost sleep over it and pondered it deeply.
You, in the moment of hearing someone tell you who they really are, are at the very beginning of a journey about this person’s identity. But the person coming out to you is at the end of their own journey of self-acceptance. They are ahead of you. And it is frankly offensive—especially if you’re not queer yourself—to raise those kinds of concerns as if somehow they have not yet crossed the person’s mind.
Trust me, as queer people we know exactly what the world has in store for us. We are painfully aware. We have done the math. And we are coming out anyway, because for us it is worse to stay in the closet. Think about that. Think about how much living authentically must mean to someone for them to come out despite everything you’re worried about and everything they’re worried about too.
I hope someday we live in a world where coming out is a trivial concern. But right now we do not live in that world. So have some respect for the work the person has done to overcome all those fears so that they can come out at all, and keep your concerns to yourself.
What if I already screwed it up?
Maybe you found this article having already put your foot ankle-deep in your mouth after somebody came out. Maybe you’re here, having had time for second thoughts, after hurting a person you care about by either rejecting their identity (you have no idea how many queer people come out only to not be believed at all about their transness or their gayness or whatever) or rejecting the person themselves. Or both. Maybe your understandable fears for their safety turned into an angry response that was frightening and traumatizing to the person.
There’s a million ways to screw it up.
And the first thing I want you to do is forgive yourself. You’re only human, and if you are here reading this at all, I’d bet money on two things: One, you didn’t have anybody teach you how to properly respond to a coming-out when you were a kid. Two, that your response, however flawed it might have been, deep down came from a place of love and concern for the person. So give yourself some grace for that.
But the second thing I want you to do is fix it. That’s the good news. It is rarely too late to fix the mistake. There is a lot of healing power in humility. In owning up to your mistake and doing what you can to make it right. So if you screwed up and hurt somebody, here’s how to start the healing:
“I’m sorry. You trusted me with your authentic self, and I blew it. That’s on me. I’ve had some time to think, to educate myself, to realize what I did wrong and to regret it. So I want to say to you now that I love you, and I’m happy for you to be out of the closet. It’s wonderful that you’re embracing who you really are and are doing what you need to do to be happy in this life.”
Again, you don’t need to use those exact words—though you’re welcome to them if you want—just center your response in accountability for what you did wrong, then pivot to the joy.
I can’t guarantee that this will completely undo the hurt or fix the relationship. It might not, because it’s not up to you whether the other person chooses to forgive you and accept you back into their life. Just because you apologized does not mean the other person owes you forgiveness.
I hope they do forgive you, but that’s not why you should do this. You should do it because accountability and apologizing are simply the right things to do after you hurt someone. Do it not because it’ll fix everything, but because it’s what you can do.
Heal fear with joy
Again, I hope someday we live in a world where coming out is no big deal. Until that day coming out will remain a very big deal indeed. For many queer people, it is the hardest thing we’ll ever have to do—especially if you are part of our family or a friend; someone who is irreplaceable bedrocks in our lives—for the simple reason that we cannot know ahead of time how you’re going to react.
It’s terrifying.
When a person comes out to you, please recognize that they are doing it in spite of a lot of fear, uncertainty, and anxiety about how you’ll take it. Not knowing whether you’re going to support them or kick them out of your house. Whether you’re going to hug them or turn your back on them. Whether you’re going to help them or hurt them.
Recognize that they’ve been living with these fears, often for a very long time, before finding the strength to speak up for themselves. Recognize that these fears are traumatizing. They leave wounds.
So when you respond with joy, when you react to someone’s news not just as good news but as the best news —which it really is—you are doing perhaps the most powerful thing you can do to help heal that trauma. The other person just gave you the gift of knowing their authentic self. Joy is the gift you can give them in return.


This is beautiful. Kindness is the only response to such vulnerability. If you are habitually kind, you'll know what to do. Comfort, love, acceptance are in the hug. Loneliness is probably the worst side effect of revealing who you are. This is the cue to doubling your support for the person. Treating them as the special, courageous, human being they are is the key.
I had a few different scenarios when I came out.
1. I'm so happy for you.
This was the response I got from both my siblings and most of my friends. Good job, y'all
2. Bye, Felicia
Got this from a couple friends and a couple extended family members. Fuck 'em.
The rest are not so cute and dried.
3. "I don't understand."
Got this from quite a few family members. However they don't need to understand. Just respect my decision. This was initially both my parents and my stepmom. They have all since come around.
4. *I don't know how to talk to you now."
This is code for"this is making me extremely uncomfortable so I'm not going to talk about it.". I told them they could ask me anything. Very few of them took me up on it. This was many extended family members' response. Said family members now act like I don't exist anymore rather than sit with their own discomfort. The classic"make it all about me* response.
5. My mom also told me "This is going to make your life more difficult.". No shit, Mom. I'm well aware of that I did the math and the math said it was worth it.