Steve

Steve, age 13

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania (1969)

This occasion was the Golden Wedding Anniversary of Nanny and Poppy, my grandfolks who still spoke with the Yiddish accent of their home in Russia (although they were now true Country-Club Jews). 

All of us grandkids had a song or poem prepared to perform. For my slot, I had written new lyrics to "On the Street Where You Live" complete with multiple three-syllable rhymes to put Alan Jay Lerner's original words to shame. 

Listen, Alan Jay Lerner never bothered to rhyme Caribbean with Amphibian, but I did that night!

I really sang my heart out into the mic. And boy, did I have dramatic hand gestures! I had vocal flourishes to make those high notes soar, and I had all the tricks the pros use to sell a song. 

So I finished Part one (three verses and a chorus) to rousing applause. Part two (three verses and a chorus) covered Nanny and Poppy's kids and grandkids. (Less applause). Part three (yet another three verses and chorus) covered their retirement years. (Begrudging claps). 

And there was still a Part four to go! I know there's a lesson somewhere in there worth learning about brevity -- something something something... 

So what happened to my 13-year-old's dreams of Broadway glory? Well I actually did make it onto the credits of a good number of Broadway Playbills about 15 years later.

But alas, not as the brilliant lyricist I harbored inside me, but rather as an Assistant Set Designer to some of Broadway's greatest designers. 

And that's showbiz!

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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"

Danny

Age 7
Long Beach, California (1962)

I think I knew I was “different” probably around age 7. I vividly remember going to Drive-In movies with my family, and going to the restrooms by myself 2 or 3 times, and standing at the urinals covertly watching adult men peeing. 

When I was around age 10, my parents forced me to go to church with them every Sunday. So I was raised Lutheran. But I realized how hypocritical organized religion was, and when I was in High School, my parents let me decide for myself if I wanted to continue going to church or not…I chose not to.

As a kid I remember obsessing over electronic DIY kits from Radio Shack, which you would put together and learn about how everything operated.

I wasn't really bullied at all, but in the 5^th grade, this one guy hated me for some reason and was going to beat me up one time after school. And a kid that lived across the street from me heard about. He was around 17 and a high school dropout, sort of like the Judd Nelson character from “The Breakfast Club."

So he showed up at my school the next day. He saw the kid coming after me, stepped in the middle of us, and said to get the hell out of here and go home. And I guess his threat put the fear of God in that kid 'cuz he never bothered me again!

When I came out, my mother was pretty accepting of it. She had many close gay male friends who always went to her when they had a relationship problem. 

I never went to college until I turned 65 years old, and that's when I went through a Neuro Psych test and was diagnosed with ADHD, which I had my entire life. And what explains my long-time problem with not being able to retain things I read!

What gives me the most Pride now as an adult is marching with CHEER LA in the Long Beach Pride Parade to raise money for the St. Mary’s CARE Program, one of the leading HIV Healthcare facilities in Southern California.

I’ve also ridden on the KTLA Pride bus the past three years and in the WeHo Pride Parade. So what I would tell LGBTQ kids today reading my story is:

Always know, that WE older LGBTQ adults do care about you. We’re here for you. If you’re being bullied, find an ally and tell them. We’ll do all we can to help protect you, keep you safe, and be there as someone you can come and talk to, if needed.

IT DOES GET BETTER, I promise!

_________________________________________

Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"

Marc

Marc, age 8

Scotch Plains, New Jersey (1967)

Just as I am now, I was a ham as a kid. Just look at me posing here with my mother! But it wasn't until the summer before 7th grade, when I discovered the local children's musical theatre summer program that I truly blossomed.

The earliest memory I have of understanding I liked boys was staring at the cover of the Meet The Beatles album, and walking to the bus stop with my sister, knowing I also thought Paul was the cute one.

I don't really recall my first same-sex crush. Well, maybe it was at summer camp, with some of the older boys or even a camp counselor or two! And a few local friends. And more than a couple of cute jocks at school. And then some fellas in community theatre. And....oh, and...well, I guess I had a lot of crushes!

I DO distinctly remember seeing Dick Gautier on the TV show "Get Smart."
He played a Rock Hudson-esque robot with perfect features and dark movie star hair, and something about him made me feel all gooey inside!

My only distinct memory about any bullying is that a friend of my sister wrote FAG on a piece of sheet music in my room. And that my father covered it up by taping a similar colored piece of paper over it with my name, to cover up the hateful word. And I remember feeling worse for my father than for myself about it.

I was always out to everyone but my parents, and I'm embarrassed by how long I kept up the facade of the "roommate bed" in the living room, for when my parents visited. And much to my mother's credit, she finally asked me if Scott and I were "more than roommates." I was in my late 20's I believe. Crazy!

I mean, I certainly gave them clues throughout my childhood though. 

I devoured 16 Magazine more than my sisters, and really enjoyed watching TV shows like "I Love Lucy" to "Bewitched" and "I Dream Of Jeannie" much more than "The Honeymooners" or "Bonanza." And when I discovered Bette Midler and Barbra Streisand as a teenager, I truly received my gay card.

Since then I have had a very interesting life (Google me!) and met my first partner, Scott Wittman, almost 50 years ago! Although we never had children, we share a songwriting career that has given birth to many proud accomplishments.

To gay kids today grappling with acceptance, I offer that old cliché -- "Be Yourself"
And just get through those difficult Jr. High and High School years.

Because after that, you will be embraced for the very differences that some unenlightened people may tease or bully you about now. I have never had a day in my life where I didn't feel it was a blessing being born gay.

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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"

David

David, age 12 
Tasmania, Australia (1963)

This photo of me was shot during my first year at high school, and was set up by a semi-professional photographer and friend of my father. I was posed in a cow paddock with Rani, our family dog. The picture was published on the front cover of a national magazine called "Health."

By this age I had questions about myself and knew that certain situations sparked my curiosity. But in 1963, there were no places to go to find answers.

I didn’t know the word to describe myself and no one at my school used the "F" word. And the word "Gay" just wasn't in the vocabulary.

I had a very happy upbringing at home, and was a straight A student at school. The other boys ridiculed my inability to catch a cricket ball or my failure to kick a football straight, but I was never bullied or belittled. And the guys came to me for help with their homework.

I was editor of the school magazine for two years and was on the student council. I was always a leader: popular, confident, optimistic and outgoing.

No one ever guessed that I was gay, least of all myself.

I also read avidly. My favourite character was William Brown, a permanently 11-year old boy portrayed by Richmal Crompton in the 39 novels he wrote, starting with "Just William." He and his closest friend, Ginger, along with the other Outlaws, got up to all sorts of wild adventures, none of which I dared to copy!

I never missed watching "Leave It To Beaver" featuring the inquisitive and often naïve Theodore “The Beaver” Cleaver, portrayed by Jerry Mathers. Only years later did I realise why I thought Beaver was the most handsome boy on TV.

I grew up in a conservative family and belonged to a strict Protestant church.
My dad was a high-profile pastor known all over Australia, and everyone, especially my father, had the highest expectations for my behaviour.

Any deviation was frowned upon and could be punished.
So I was eager to please my parents and happy to conform to their standards.

But as a young adult, when I stepped outside those boundaries, I was wracked by guilt and smothered by shame. I carried that shame for decades, and it's one of the reasons for staying in the closet for so long.

Then at the age of 55, I saw the movie "Brokeback Mountain."
And the result was a tsunami of grief and despair.

I decided the pain of staying in the closet exceeded the shame in coming out.

So I soon came out to my family, moved 1000 miles, started a new job, and bought a house. I also met a wonderful man who is now my husband of 12 years, and we couldn’t be any happier. More info on my life today can be found here.

And when I look at this picture now, I wish I could tell my 12-year-old self:
"Don’t worry. The answers will come. Life does get better!"
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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"

Doug

Doug, age 3
Pacific Palisades, California (1952)

In the 6th grade, I found myself looking at my classmate Steven, and thinking about his cute butt. This frightened me, because I knew I should only have those thoughts and feelings about girls. I had been told that homosexuals were 'alcoholics who have sex in alleys,' and they were 'filthy, amoral individuals who should be condemned,'  and not even pitied. And, that they ended up in jail.

At age 17, I had a crush on one of my best friends which I only later expressed by mail when we went to colleges on opposite ends of the country. 

He eventually stopped responding to my letters.

During my college years, I had romantic relationships with two girls and was attracted to several others

I really wanted to have a girlfriend and eventually be married. However, I was only physically attracted to my male classmates.

I was determined not to be gay, but I couldn't deny my feelings.

During my 20's, my pattern was to develop close, non-physical friendships with my male friends, and after many months, pursue a physical relationship.
While they rejected those advances, not one of them rejected me as a friend.

During the early to mid 70's, gay support groups began to develop on college campuses. I hung around one outside once, but I never went in. My eventual first physical relationship was with a male I had known for 12 months and for whom I was an "experiment" gone awry. Meaning: being gay wasn't for him.

At age 30, I was up late with an older woman I worked for who was attempting to seduce me. Getting tired of the charade, she finally blurted out:

'You're another faggot, aren't you?!'  And I said, "I guess so."

I eventually lost 60 pounds, got fit, cut my long, 60's-style hair, and decided to look for men whom I knew were already gay. Duh, lightbulb moment! My first gay night out started at bars in the Los Angeles area: The Rawhide, Woody's Hyperion, The Apache, and The Eagle. When I walked into The Rawhide, I knew that I was finally where I belonged. Actual tears of joy!

Next was coming out to my three sisters and parents. I made an appointment at my father's office to have "the conversation." He started by saying, 'Your older sister married that horse's ass we told her not to marry. And now they're divorced, and she's living with a man who is ten years younger than her!'

I only wanted to tell him that I'm gay, but he launched-forth again, saying:
 'And your younger sister is dating a damn Mexican!' As he looked appalled.

He then asked me, 'So, Doug, what did you want to talk about?'
I wanted to say, "Dad, you ain't heard nothin' yet!" but I didn't.

I waited a week to tell him. I think he already knew but didn't want to face the inevitable. He asked me, 'Is this something you want to do or something you feel compelled to do?'  I just said, "Both." His face filled with disappointment and resignation, and he asked: 'Is there anything I can do to help?'

Both my parents were accepting of me, but just barely.

I spent 20 years of my life rejecting my true self -- what a waste. If I had it to do all over again, I would have started in high school to develop positive, physical relationships with male friends, instead of avoiding my true feelings.

Of course, that's much easier today than it was in the mid-60's.
My advice is for the LGBTQ youth of today is trite, but true: be your true self.
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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"

Mike

Mike, age 9
Indianapolis, Indiana (1957)

Here I am in one of my frequent sassy moods, chastising the photographer for taking my picture. I was always very outspoken, but at the same time, I was painfully shy and introverted. Both sides of my personality existed and sometimes one dominated, sometimes the other.

My grade school teacher once sent home a note telling my Mother that:
"Michael likes to entertain his friends in class."

Strangely, when it came to bullying, I only remember one time, when I was 10.

A big neighborhood bully stopped me on the street and asked me if I knew I was queer?

I told him: Yes, I knew that!

That stopped him dead in his tracks and he left me alone!

At that time growing up in the 50's and early 60's, and wanting to avoid trouble, I never forced the issue and never came out to anybody.


I grew up in a home where things like being gay weren't discussed, so I was very ignorant of the fact that we are everywhere and we are just as good as anybody else! I was just me, and most kids and even grownups just accepted me as I was.

I had my first crush on another boy when I was 11 while in the Boy Scouts.
He was an older man: 12 years old! I worshipped him from afar, but never had the courage to go up and speak to him. And I'm sure he never even noticed I existed. But he was gorgeous, like a very young and hot Elvis Presley.

It wasn't until I was 14 and in high school that I started to realize I had actual physical attractions to other boys and romantic feelings for some. And I soon met some other gay boys at school. I went to a very large high school with 4,000 students, so there were several boys there who clearly stood out as gay because they were so very obvious. They couldn't hide it even if they wanted to.

Those other gay boys I met were my first introduction to what other kids similar to me must be like. I was glad to know I wasn't the only one! They instinctively knew I was "one of them" and would talk to me as we walked to classes.

However, I noticed that all of them were mercilessly bullied every day in school. And that made me feel terrible and very bad for them. But I knew if I spoke up in their defense, that I'd get beaten up too. And that made me feel worse. So I kept a low profile and tried to just fade into the background so I didn't stand out.

I tried to deny to myself that I might be gay for many years, but I knew it was true. And I finally decided to accept myself as I am in my early 20's.

To all the gay kids and young people of today, all I can say is be true to yourself. You may encounter people who will be mean and hateful toward you and who will try to make you feel bad about yourselves - but do not let them.

They are the bad people -- not you! Just have the courage to be yourself.
Not everyone will like you, but the right people will!
___________________________________________________

Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"

Terry

Terry, age 7
Mt. Sterling, Ohio (1968)

My mom was a big supporter of Santa Claus. Actually, it wasn’t until the first Christmas after she got married (at age 17, and Santa didn’t come) that she learned the truth. But despite that knowledge and a short, rocky marriage, she instilled in my brother and I the confidence that we could ask Santa for whatever we really, truly wanted. If Santa could afford it, that’s what he’d bring.

I think my older brother was on to mom and started working the system.
But I believed in the man who didn’t judge me wholeheartedly.

All our Christmas photos show the clear difference between my brother and I: He’d get a rifle, and I’d get a pogo stick with pink tassels on the handle bars.
Santa kept me stocked with dolls and even a patent leather purse once.

Here’s a photo of the year I scored both a dollhouse and an E-Z Bake Oven. Santa (and his helper) never disappointed, except that my mom didn’t have a lot of time to pull off all this magic.

So we were raised with the slogan, “Santa doesn’t wrap.”

Thus, anything from the North Pole was laid out under the tree in it’s original box. But it was fine. My brother and I had no trouble figuring out which present belonged to who.

And although I was teased and tormented throughout my school years for being a sissy, I always knew Santa was my safe haven.

 I just didn’t know to thank my mom for that until much later in life.
_____________________________________________________

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Eric

Eric, age 11

Toronto, Ontario Canada (1962)

I'm here in the middle with my younger brother and sister. I was born on a farm in a family of seven, and we moved to the city at age 5. Before moving, I was invited to stay overnight at my neighbor Maryann's place. I assumed I would sleep with her, which made her parents laugh. They refused with no explanation, leaving me puzzled and offended.

I had no sense of sexuality till the bullying started in grade 7, and even my home room teacher encouraged it. It turns out he was getting it on with a girl in class. 

I volunteered at recess to clean his blackboards so I wouldn't face the bullies.  

Instinctively, I was sucking up to him (figuratively) to neutralize him as a homophobe - before I even knew I was gay! Even that lecherous teacher was better than recess that year.

Prior to that, I had friends. And a few guys that I liked especially and who remain in my mind as innocent loves. They let me play soccer (badly) and treated me like one of the guys. I thrived on the comraderie. 

I remember in grade 8 a loudmouth teaser tormenting me in the hall, and my friend Bob grabbing him and telling him to stop taunting me. My knight in shining armor was thoroughly a jock and very handsome. Why was he so willing to stand up for me?

Bob even took figure skating classes with me for a while 'To improve my skating skills' and let me play hockey (badly) in his backyard with his other friends. 

I wish I had learned team sports, but I lacked the jock spirit. 

Instead, I filled my plate full with studies, playing piano, and skating. 

Then came high school, which was great. No taunts! I was good at gymnastics, and the teacher made a point of praising my athletic ability in gym class. 

Those were idyllic years. 

My crushes remained fantasies, but they were still vivid. 

I remained in the closet with my family, where there was much upheaval and much heartbreak. I breathed a sigh of relief when I began university far from home and could starting dating etc.

I met a very effeminate, pushy guy from the US on a choir tour, and the sex we had was a nightmare! He eventually hitchhiked back to school - unannounced - and was camped out in my dorm room when I returned, much to the hilarity of my dorm mates. I was a victim, and that episode scarred me for life!

I finally had a few good encounters, but never found someone I really wanted to be with and who really wanted to be with me.

So my story has no 'happy ending' yet. 

Sadly, I keep looking but never seem to find a stable relationship. 

I suppose I might still be the problem?

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Fernando

Fernando, age 3

Havana, Cuba (1967)

Growing up in in the 1970's in Cuba, I had never heard any official talk about gay people. But, the only time I did hear references to gay people, it was always derogatory. I do remember that I was never allowed to speak ill of people that were perceived as gay. I had a gay cousin and people always made fun of him.
If I had ever joined in to insult him, my mom would’ve smacked me!

My first memory of realizing I was different was when at around age 6 or 7 when I found a packet of pornographic photos. The sex described and shown was totally heterosexual, but my eyes were glued to the males in those photos. 

As I didn't know about gayness or sex, it wasn't about that. It was just something within me feeling - different. I always had crushes on the cutest boys in my school, but I never thought about sex until age 15.

I'd met this kid from the neighborhood that was very cute and who wore the sexiest red Speedos. But I never acted on the fantasies I had about him, though. I dated girls and even had sex with them. It was not entirely unpleasant, so I never felt the awkwardness that some kids growing up gay feel.

I moved to New York City in the late 80's. I was walking around 42^nd Street one day, and I walked into a sex shop, and right up front they had a display of gay porn. I opened a magazine and it was as if a lightbulb above my head went on!

I thought 'WOW! This is what it's all about!' Soon after that, I started my quest to find a mate, and in 1992 I met my now-husband. 

One night he left me a phone message and told me that he loved me in French. My mom heard it and asked me why he had said he loved me. I simply said, 
'He is my boyfriend.' And she simply said, "Oh, OK. As long as you don’t become effeminate, it's OK with me!" And that was how I came out.

So I guess you could say I had it a little easy.

I did not feel the depression or heartaches that most of us go through. One of my girlfriends had a bit of a problem when I told her, but it quickly vanished and we remained friends until the day she died. 

Today, I am openly gay at work and in my private life. We never officially told my grandma or my husband's parents, but they figured it out for themselves and it was never a problem for them, either.

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Byron

Byron, age 3

Arroyo Grande, California (1969)

I ran across this picture in a box of photographs. I don't even remember taking it. My mother used to like to dress me up and I was a bit of a mama's boy. 

My parents had some inkling I may have been gay and I was told that I was taken in for tests. All I could imagine was a doctor holding up paint swatches,
or pictures of accessories, asking me: "Do these shoes go with this purse?"

As I was a small kid, school was rough. Grade school wasn't that bad, but once I got to high school, it became worse. I was thrown in many a trash can, had food dumped on me, and other kids would scream names at me. So I spent a lot of time in the theatre - aka the cafetorium - and made it my safe place.  

I remember riding my bike home one day when this group of kids ambushed me and threw large cement nails at me, hitting me in the face and head. Or the ones who surrounded me and pulled out a switchblade. Thankfully, a friend pulled up in his car and saved my life.

Everyone basically knew I was gay, so coming out was kind of pointless. When I came out to my mom, she made me sweat through the entire process. After going through that agonizing moment, she just laughed and said they had known my whole life. I thought it would bring us closer together, but it didn't. 

However, my father has been my true hero through it all. It was on July 17, 1986 when he said he was proud of me.  I wrote it on may calendar.

Later I went to a performing arts college, so I felt totally comfortable. I remember the moment I made it clear to the wig mistress. She asked if I was straight, and the world just stopped and went into super slow motion. It felt like an eternity before I said, 'No, I'm gay' and she didn't even miss a beat.

I'm now 47 and have been with my husband for 17 years. I also have a successful career doing wigs and makeup for live theatre, and I don't take shit from anyone.

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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"

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Bill

Bill, age 3

Brooklyn, New York (1963)

This picture should have given my family some clue! This Norwegian boy on the left was a childhood friend, and I have a look on my face like, “Look! I got one!”

As a kid, I loved TV shows that featured boys around my age, like Eddie Munster and Will Robinson on "Lost In Space."

I also remember watching the original "Mickey Mouse Club" on TV. While most other boys were crushing on Annette Funicello, I was crushing on Cubby!

If anyone had asked me as early as age four who I wanted to marry when I grew up, I would have said that I wanted to marry a man. It just seemed natural.

But elementary school was a very difficult time for me.

I got bullied and beat up a lot, but I didn’t really know why;
I just thought that’s how school was.

By junior high, kids had apparently picked up on me being gay, because the bullying definitely took on a homophobic aspect. Of course, self-preservation caused me to deny it, and I had girlfriends all through high school. Probably because I was easy to talk to?!

After high school, I went through a very difficult time in a very homophobic church. After what could only be described as spiritual and emotional torture,
I left. Within a year in 1980, I was instrumental in founding the world’s first LGBT-affirming Apostolic Pentecostal church.

Most of my family took my coming out very well.

To celebrate, my aunt Lois called a friend of hers, and together they “raided” a gay bar in Asbury Park, New Jersey, where Lois played matchmaker for the guys inside, deciding who looked good with whom!

Presently, there are many positive LGBT role models, and I hope LGBT kids will look to them for encouragement and affirmation.

Today, I'm a 55 year old man, happily partnered with another 55 year old man. As I look back at my childhood - and especially this picture - it makes me smile.

_____________________________________________________

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Charles

Charles, age 4
Longport, New Jersey (1967)

I'm from the South New Jersey shore. Philadelphia was our big city. Home was a beach town, so it was empty in the winter. Empty except for the “locals,” and being gay was a concept that didn't fit in with the “local” mentality. My parents were decent people, but they were locals, too. 

Being gay was a tough and lonely journey for me. I thought the boys were cool, but it was because I was attracted to them. I know that now, but I didn't back then. I attended Catholic schools, and had no issues about that.

My photo was taken by my grandfather, with me atop my father's desk chair. 

I loved superheroes as a kid, as they were people with great gifts who just seemed so "normal" on the outside.

Their “secret” was their hidden powers.

Suddenly, they became super-special, the people they really were. They stopped hiding. That transformation is the core idea that got me through it all.

As a kid I also loved Lee "The Bionic Man" Majors. He was the perfect real-world superhero: handsome, bighearted, strong, and sweet. And for vision and resolve, to overcome and triumph, I admired Abraham Lincoln. His story is amazing.

My parents were crushed when I came out. It hurts a loving child so much to disappoint his parents. But in time, that healed.

Today I live in Puerto Rico and I'm a successful lawyer. And being gay never kept me from anything. But I kept myself from things. Until I remembered that we are here to be a point of light in the world. Then, suddenly, everything began to change. I also fully realized that I was born this way. 

I already had everything I needed to be who I am meant to be. 
And when you realize that too, it's like your own personal 4th of July! 

So go and do your thing!
______________________________________________________

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Mark

Mark, age 6
Centralia, Washington (1968)

My first grade teacher Mrs. Carlson wrote on my report card:
"Mark is a very sensitive child, wants attention, and needs reassurance. 
He expresses himself very well through his artwork, is quite creative, and has quite a flair for play-acting. He really puts himself into it and does quite a good job." Great insight on her part, as I have become a professional entertainer. 

Mrs. Carlson could also see I was gay, and 'Sensitive' was another 1960's American code word for homosexual. 

She also knew I had no friends in a town full of kids. It was hard to miss them chanting 'Finley Faggot' during recess, or from over her fence on an occasional weekend visit. 

She opened my world to the fine arts by way of the local library. The works she put in front of me all had the same theme - the misunderstood overcoming their adversity to shine greater than ever before. 


Not having friends, I lost myself in reading, listening to records, and stamp collecting. Then my maternal grandfather gave me two amazing gifts: a spinet piano and a 12-inch black & white television. Thanks to him I poured myself into practicing my piano and recreating scenes from the movies I watched at night.

I couldn't catch a ball of any kind, but I could do a great Mae West and W.C. Fields routine complete with a chorus of "Willie Of The Valley." Soon it was quite clear to my parents that my 'creative flair' was not simply a phase.

I'd love to say that it was all sunshine and lollipops after that, but I'd be lying. 
The rest of my childhood was nothing short of a living hell. 

But at age 10 I was in my first play (a community theatre production of an old English melodrama), and I stole the show. I had finally found the one place I was happy and content. Not to mention safe from the constant torment that was the rest of my adolescence. 

Some would say that I escaped into my own private world with theatre. 
But I would say it gave me the chance to escape and join the world! 

As an adult, my performing has taken me all around the world on many wonderful adventures. It was not easy growing up 'different' in a small town in rural Washington. But I am forever thankful that Mrs. Carlson gave me hope that happiness was possible!
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Jack

Jack, age 2

Chicago, Illinois (1969)

This photo should be in the dictionary under foreshadowing. Looking at my baby picture now, I find it extremely funny. And think at some point, my mother most likely HATED that damn toy box. 

As a kid, I was all about watching TV. "Dallas" was my favorite, but my mom didn’t let me watch "Dynasty" because there was a gay character on it. 

In my teens, music (and especially Laura Branigan) was my obsession. I even managed to meet the woman three times in the mid-80's.

I’d have to say that my first man-crush was Michael Landon from his "Little House On The Prairie" days. But it was my obsession with Lindsay Wagner in "The Bionic Woman" during the 5th grade that started the years of bullying. 

We were inside for recess and I was pretending to be bionic. Of course, I couldn’t say that I was pretending to be Steve Austin - it had to be Jamie Summers. 
Thankfully, though, the teasing finally ended during my senior year of high school.

The truth is, I can’t remember NOT knowing that I was gay. But I fought it tooth and nail until the spring of 1986 (the end of my freshman year of college) when I gave in to my primal urges and kissed a boy on the lips (and some other things).

I had a long coming out process starting with my college friends, friends at home, my family (cousins, sisters, aunts), followed by sharing with my parents when I turned 30. And no, it wasn’t any kind of surprise.   

Today, I'm a happy, well-adjusted 46 year-old gay man living in Chicago. I'm the Director of Operations for a Healthcare IT company and have been happily partnered for the past 7 years.  

The funny thing is, everyone loves my partner – especially my parents. So sometimes life just works out, even after living through some hellish times as a kid.   

I imagine it’s easier to be gay these days, but for all of the kids who find it hard to accept and might not have the strength to come out, my message is:

Be strong, be yourself, and know that it does get better.

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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"

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Nancy

Nancy, age 5
Columbus, Ohio (1961)

I was definitely a tomboy when I was young. My favorite activities were building tree houses, playing in the woods, reading adventure stories, riding my bike and playing kick ball. I hated playing with dolls, especially Barbies!

As you can see in my photo, I loved wearing comfortable, functional pants with lots of big pockets - and I still do!

My first crush on a girl was in the 6th grade, but she wasn't particularly interested in me.

Soon after that I started having boyfriends, because I had no clue that having a girlfriend was even an option.

At that time, all you saw on the television were white, straight folks.

When I was 16, I visited my cousin at his college. For lack of anything better to do, we went to a panel discussion put on by the Gay Activist Alliance. There were two women and one guy on the panel. And that experience was like a big lightbulb that went on in my head.

I spent the next 7 years looking for other lesbians, while still dating guys.
As soon as I found my first girlfriend, I gave up dating guys immediately.

It took my family a couple of years to get used to the fact that I am a lesbian.
But that was over 30 years ago!

Since then, I gave birth to a beautiful daughter (using artificial insemination), have had a great career, and been involved with my wife for 16 years.
We eventually got married in Massachusetts.

So for all you young folks reading this, listen up:
It does get better and you can have it all!
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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"

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Rick

Rick, age 5
Los Angeles, California (1959)

This picture was taken on Easter Sunday, 1959. Ever the fashion plate even then,
I remember how proud I was of my new outfit. The pants and the plaid shirt were baby blue, and I was really looking forward to showing it off.

I was a typical suburban kid from the 1960's - if typical includes not wanting to get your clothes messy, playing with your cousin's Barbies, and naming your first dog Toto after the dog in "The Wizard of Oz". I even had a doll house which caused my dad fits.

I remember many whispered conversations between my uncles and my dad that he should take me outside and teach me sports.
It was a futile effort on my dad's part and he eventually gave up.

I remember thinking even then that I was different from the other kids. As I got older, I hid it better.


My first gay crush was on Robert Conrad in "The Wild, Wild West." I'd sit as close to the TV as possible and watch each episode with rapt attention. My favorite part was when Conrad would lose his shirt in a fight and get tied up - which, thankfully, seemed to happen nearly every episode.

My dad thought my TV interest was unwholesome, but since it was my clearly straight brother's favorite show also, he let us both watch it.

I never did come out to my dad, who died when I was in my 30's. I did eventually come out to my mom when I turned 40, and she became a life-long and very vocal advocate for gay rights.

This picture remains a favorite of mine and brings back mostly happy memories of my childhood. I haven't really changed all that much. I still don't like to get my clothes messy and I still like bright and flashy shirts.

I still like Barbie dolls and have several Bob Mackie collectors editions of my own. I still don't care much for sports. Oh, and I still like pictures of shirtless men.

Finally, I still give my pets the names of gay icons. Lucy is my current dog, and every time I walk into my house I call out in a Cuban accent: "Lucy, I'm home!"
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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"

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