Kailyn Lowry’s Son Isaac Comes Out as Gay and Changes Name—Inside His Brave New Identity

Her oldest son, who was previously known as Isaac, reintroduced himself as Elliott Rivera during a recent episode of Kailyn Lowry‘s Barely Famous podcast. He radically changed his public persona in the process. Elliott made the decision because he needed to reclaim his story, even though some people might have thought it was just another Teen Mom headline.

Elliott distinguished his current identity from the one shaped by reality TV by selecting his middle name. His life was filmed from birth, and by the time he was able to walk, people already had preconceived notions about him. Changing his name wasn’t an act of rebellion; rather, it was a very powerful way to distinguish between the teen embracing his own truth and the boy who was portrayed in the media.

Kailyn Lowry’s Son Isaac (Now Known as Elliott)

Being forthright and emotionally transparent, Kailyn recognized the intricacy of the circumstance. She clarified that even though she is fully in favor of her son, there is a hint of fear, especially at a time when LGBTQIA+ rights are under constant threat. Her statement that “this puts a target on his back” wasn’t hyperbole; rather, it was a strikingly accurate representation of modern parenting, where love must be louder than noise but never reckless.

The 15-year-old Elliott revealed that he had no intention of making a big reveal when he came out. Rather, the decision was motivated by frustration—too many people were distorting his story and fabricating their own versions of what was true. His quiet but forceful statement on the podcast, “I’m doing it for me,” reverberated with the kind of bravery that is uncommon in adolescence. As expected, his story struck a particularly powerful chord during Pride Month, contributing to the growing chorus of Gen Z voices that are redefining what it means to be gay.

His story is representative of a growing trend in youth culture, where agency and authenticity are valued above labels and customs. For teenagers like Elliott, identity is developed rather than merely declared. It can be confusing to have your life molded by television, especially in your early years. Elliott said, “It’s like you have a TV face,” describing how even his face changed based on whether he was on camera. That kind of self-awareness emphasizes the psychological costs of early celebrity and is remarkably mature.

It wasn’t a random choice for the name Elliott. It had been his middle name all along. However, after changing schools and having “Elliott” appear on the paperwork by default, something clicked. It was instinctive. Freeing. It made it possible for him to define himself without revealing his history. And the change from Isaac to Elliott was much more than a superficial one. It was the beginning of a brand-new tale that was wholly his own.

The way that other famous parents have responded to their kids’ identity changes—with a healthy mix of public solidarity and emotional candor—was remarkably similar to Kailyn’s response. Consider Gabrielle Union and Dwyane Wade, whose steadfast devotion to their daughter Zaya established a new benchmark for parenting. Even though Kailyn hasn’t given speeches on red carpets, it felt especially powerful for her to let Elliott take the lead in her podcast.

Elliott’s decision’s timing also gives it significance. In a year already characterized by heated discussions about gender and identity, coming out during Pride Month put him in a larger social context. Elliott, however, insisted that his experience was his own and refused to become just another symbol. That difference is important. He only wanted to be respected, not praised. His advice to others was straightforward and very clear: “If you feel that coming out is necessary, then do it.” If not, simply be who you are.

For young people going through similar difficulties, that kind of viewpoint is especially helpful. Elliott’s admission that coming out isn’t required but can be therapeutic sends a very useful message to a generation negotiating the intricate relationships between identity, privacy, and digital exposure. His maturity is evident not only in his words but also in the poise, composure, and ownership with which he delivered them.

It’s easy to forget that Elliott was a real child growing up in real time behind the edits and camera angles when reliving his early years on television. It was a sobering reminder of how vulnerable children can be that he chose to talk candidly about the hurt of being outed in fifth grade after a friend betrayed his trust. He remembered how painful it was to have his truth revealed against his will. His words were quiet but impactful: “They ruined that for me after I worked up the courage to tell someone.”

In her insightful response, Kailyn noted how many young people are unable to comprehend the emotional significance of another person’s identity. He was unsure of its meaning. She said, “He was unaware of the impact.” Her son and the person who harmed him both received that kind of grace, which was a potent illustration of empathy-based growth.

Fortunately, the public’s response to Elliott’s story has been positive. However, his predicament also draws attention to a more significant problem: the tendency for the media and viewers to feel entitled to private information about public figures, including children. In response, Elliott adamantly declared, “My life isn’t entertainment for other people.” By doing this, he established a boundary that is both healthy and absolutely essential.

His family’s support, particularly from younger siblings like Creed, who adjusted to the name change quickly, shows that they are a welcoming household. Without missing a beat, even his brother, who is four years old, started referring to him as Elliott. With an innocence that seemed wiser than any adult response, he asked, “Who is my brother Elliott?”

In the future, Elliott’s story may serve as motivation for those following comparable routes. His story reintroduces something softer and more fundamental: the right to evolve, in a digital world that frequently erases nuance in favor of viral takes. Adolescents should be celebrated, not just tolerated. Elliott showed up in full, not just to be seen.