I don't tell my family anything, really. I told my oldest sister, my father's first daughter, and she seemed to understand at the time, but when I couldn't go to my father's funeral, they really didn't get it... despite having full understanding for our nephew, who has social anxiety disorder and could not go. There wasn't even going to be anyone there who would've been negative and confrontational. If it weren't for my mother being there, I would've gone. She didn't have him buried. She told people he'd be buried at the same time as her. I have no idea where she's buried or if she's buried. They both might be on my brother's (her son's) fireplace mantel. Who knows.
But that experience taught me not to bother telling people if I don't completely trust them. I treat it like a secret. If someone can keep a secret, they will respect me enough to know this about me. It's a lot easier for my son to tell people and it's a lot easier for people to understand my son when I tell them. There's no judgment or weirdness. It's like it makes sense to them and they think it's cool. I'm convinced me saying the same about me wouldn't get the same response, though. But I think it's awesome that it works for him. Probably because he's a kid. At some point, he might stop telling people. Who knows.