I hated Little League. When this baseball pic was taken, I was being bullied by an older teammate for being a sissy and a fag. In hindsight, I wonder if he had a crush on me? The 2nd picture is something I wrote in my diary in February of 1974, before I knew I was gay. In it, I say:
'You know, sometimes I get worried, because I think that sex and religion kind of don’t mix. I love God, but I love, I think, Becky, too. I guess it’s because sometimes sex is evil, but right now, as far as I’ve gone, I don’t think Jesus minds. In fact, I think he’s pleased, I hope.
Have I grown any since I started?
Wait! Wizard of Oz started! I’ve got to go!!
I'd been called a "fag" my whole life, but I didn't know what the word meant.
It never occurred to me that I would do anything but meet a girl, fall in love and get married, and that God would be pleased with me. It's obvious, reading the diary now, that subconsciously I sensed there was something else going on. And perhaps God would not be pleased with me at all. And that to some, "sex is evil."
I wrote the diary entry a year before the life-changing moment in 8th grade, when I was staring at my friend Tim in the class row in front of me. I had an erection, and I was thinking, 'Why do I have an erection looking at him? It doesn’t make any sense! Two penises don’t fit together!'
Then I made the horrible realization that would poison the rest of my teenage years: 'Oh, my God. That’s what a FAG is.'
I became surly and quiet, watching my own every move for any mannerism that might betray my homosexuality. For years, my cheeks would burn with embarrassment if I ever looked back on these journal pages.
I hated this gay boy. His girly script. His passion for Judy Garland and The Wizard of Oz. And his unabashed enthusiasm, which I came to see as effeminate.
But now, I love this boy so, so much.
If I had a time machine, I'd go back and hold him tight and tell him he was wonderful, good and brave - and to not listen to anyone telling him otherwise.
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"