Theodore

Theodore (Tedd), age 6
San Diego, California (1954)

I always felt like an only child. Even with three older brothers, I never bonded with any of them. They didn’t want to be seen with me, so I stayed home with my mom. 

I was bullied and teased growing up, mostly by one of my brothers.
Sadly, he was the one I admired the most.

I knew I was different the first day of kindergarten at age 5. The teacher taking attendance called “Theodore” and I just sat there until she called “Teddy” to which I answered: 'Here.' Then she said, “Well, don’t you even know your name?” The entire class broke out laughing when I said: 'No.' 

That was by far the most embarrassing day ever, and set the tone for the majority of my life. And it took years to rebuild confidence in who I am and always was.

Growing up mostly in the San Diego area, I had it fairly easy as a closeted gay person. And thankfully, religion was not a part of my upbringing.

My first same-gender attraction was also at age 5. I found myself strangely attracted to our neighbor daughter’s boyfriend, a sailor! As a teen, my first celebrity crush was actor Glenn Corbett, from the early 1960’s TV show, "Route 66."

However, it was Audrey Hepburn I was in awe of. She was the most elegant woman that ever lived. I also watched a lot of Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly musicals as I grew up. So, I guess you could say that was somewhat of an obsession.

I would also turn to music as the refuge from the pressures of being different and not fitting in at school. I sat alone in my bedroom getting lost in whatever type of music I had access to, and often singing and dancing. Today, I still listen to music as a go-to, good feeling place when I feel down. And I'm still singing and dancing.

The rest of my teenage years would have been the loneliest time of my life if it weren’t for my best friend, Bill. He was straight, and I didn’t come out to him until I was 68 years old! His reaction was: "And I’m straight. So what?"

At age 21, I married my high school sweetheart, and I came out to my mom at age 26. End of marriage! My mom’s reaction: “We always knew you were different.”  The rest of the family was accepting; however, I distanced myself from them to protect them from being harassed for having a gay family member.

And my biggest regret? Not having children while I was still married.

I graduated college and became a residential architect. I went into business with my first male partner, also an architect, and we were together 24/7. I really wanted to be a fashion designer or professional dancer, but thought it was too gay to do that. But I’ve started designing and making outfits, just for fun.

So my adult relationships lasted 17 years, then 13 years, then a different 13 years (and each sure have their own stories). I retired at age 67, and in my post retirement career - I became a porn star at age 70!

Now at age 74, what gives me the most pride is being a role model and mentor for younger gay men. I have several friends in their 30’s that use me as a sounding board for issues they are faced with in their lives.   

And in closing, my message to LGBTQ+ kids today is this: 

Be who you are and don’t give up on your dreams. And know that the person you need to count on the most, is the one you see in the mirror every morning. 

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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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Samantha

Samantha, age 3
Wildomar, California (2001)

I’m the one in the diaper with all my brothers and three family friends in the back. It was my birthday and everybody had been wearing boxers the whole day so, obviously, I was in my pull up! My mom made everyone "dress up" for pictures -- but I refused.

I was always naked back then. I didn’t even know the difference between boys and girls until I had to use a separate bathroom in first grade.

Being raised with seven boys made me think I was a boy, too. I just didn’t know any different. I wore their hand-me-downs, and we played with (and destroyed) toys together. It was just my life.

I didn’t know what gay was until my dad told me never to come home with another girl or he’d kick me out. I wouldn’t even hold my best friend's hand in school for fear of being seen as gay. But I wore the label “Tomboy” proudly in my oversized T-shirts and baseball caps!

Seventeen years after this photo was taken, me and two of the boys behind me are proudly gay. Both parents struggled with it, but they’ve been so supportive. They love me and I’m so grateful to have them.

After depression, anxiety, suicide attempts, and self harm, I’m much better now. I’m in college and proudly lesbian. I love who I am and I’m not ashamed of it.
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Tony

Tony, age 6
Natchez, Mississippi (1973)

I'm on the left in my photo, with my little brother. I grew up in the deep south in a very Christian town. Although we moved around a lot, we always ended up back in Natchez. I knew I was gay as far back as I can remember. I didn't know the term "gay" but I knew I enjoyed being around other boys my age.

I would stay at my grandmother's house a lot, which was the best place in the world to me. My grandmother had 5 daughters and she kept all of their things in what was called the 'toy room.'

I was always dressing up in my aunt's prom dress with all of its pink tulle and fluff, wearing her platform clogs and painting my nails with magic markers.

I loved playing with Barbies and their 70's play sets. I was always putting Barbie and her friends in different hairdo's and fancy dresses, because they were always going to fancy parties. And not just one party, but several a day. Every few minutes they had to run home for a complete makeover for the next party.

And my Miss Piggy puppet was the best thing in my world!!! She and I were inseparable. I would give her amazing hairstyles and make outfits for her.

I also remember sitting on the shag carpet in our living room, watching something on TV by myself. It must have had mermaids in it, because I rolled myself up in a blanket - and I was a instant mermaid!

I remember my mom walking in, and asking me what I was doing.
I said, "I'm a mermaid!!!"

Well, that didn't sit well with my mother. And I didn't understand why she gave me such a weird look after I said I was a mermaid.

Around 8 years old, I remember having a crush on a boy in my class that I thought the world of. I even remember his name -- Billy. I would stare at him in class wondering what it would be like to hold hands and kiss him.

As I got older, things got pretty bad. Kids in Jr. High knew I was different, even though I tried to hide being gay. But the other kids knew. I was always being threatened to be beaten up on a daily basis, to the point I would break out in hives on my wrists everyday before school.

It wasn't any better at home. My father was a sociopath and was extremely mentally abusive. My mom was so busy dealing with him that she only found relief in her Pentecostal church, where I was told I was going to hell for being gay. And those kids at church were more evil than the kids at school!

Looking back, my fondest memories are about my grandmother and her amazing amount of love, because she allowed me to be me without judgement.

That was the world I had at her house, and I'm eternally grateful to her for that.

I do have a happy ending, though. As a young adult, I met a guy in town and I fell in love. And as soon as I turned 18 we moved to Atlanta, Georgia.

Today, I live in Los Angeles and have made my truest home here.
I love my life now and wouldn't change it for anybody else's life!!!
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Jeff

Jeff, age 7

Chestertown, Maryland (1970)

I grew up in a small college town surrounded by corn fields and dairy farms. 
If you threw Colonial Williamsburg, Mayberry RFD, Norman Rockwell and "Deliverance" into a blender, you'd end up with Kent County, Maryland. Every year there was a Halloween Parade and most of the kids from town would dress up in their in costumes and follow behind the high school marching band. 

I really don't remember wearing this uniform (but I did like playing with GI Joe dolls and my friend Gretchen's Barbies too), so maybe my parents were probably trying to butch me up a bit? But as you can see, my queerness overwhelmed the intended machismo of the uniform. Nowadays I have a bit of a uniform fetish, so maybe this is where it all began?!

My home town, though quaint as hell, was sometimes a scary place for a young gay boy to grow up. Most of the kids in school were nice to me, but a handful of jocks made my life miserable from Jr. High all the way through High School. 

I can remember being call homo, queer and fag and being puzzled why they were calling me these names. When I was 11, we were square dancing in gym class and one of the jocks told me that I was dancing like a fag. I was upset that, once again, I was being called a fag. And so I asked myself, 'What is a fag?'  

The gay rights movement was all over the TV news at the time and I remember seeing a shot of two men kissing in the streets. As I was doing a dosy doe to some corny country song, the image of two men kissing was making me very excited. That's the exact moment that I realized that I was gay!

It would take another 8 years before I would finally comes to terms with my sexuality, but it was at 11 that it became pretty clear to me why I had crushes on some of the guys at school.

Once I was safely cloistered away in Art School in Baltimore, it was much easier for me to meet guys and figure out just who I was. Living in major cities like New York, Chicago, San Francisco and Los Angeles gave me the freedom to live an openly gay life, decades before we became a part of mainstream culture. 

As the years past, I became interested in gay history and learning about what it was like for earlier generations of gays and lesbians. In the 1980's, while shopping at antique shows and flea markets, I began collecting vintage photos of men hugging or holding hands. This ultimately inspired me to create my website Homo History, which re-appropriates vintage found photos of same sex couples, who may or may not have actually been lovers. 

What started first as a hobby and a personal collection ended up becoming a popular gay history website with over 3 million page views! To this day, I continue to add to my personal collection of vintage photos.

And I'm very happy to be able to share this vintage photo of the little gay boy that I once was.

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Christopher

Christopher, age 8

Sulligent, Alabama (1979)

Clearly as displayed in my photo, I already knew how to descend a staircase with flair while holding a cocktail. Even though that’s probably just a Pepsi...

But as one might imagine, growing up in rural Alabama was challenging for me. 

I certainly wasn’t like all the other kids, and because of that I was an easy target for name-calling and bullying - of which there was plenty. And, of course, I had to remain “closeted” until I left home. Even though everyone knew that I was as gay as a Christmas goose, it simply wasn’t discussed.  

One particular Sunday evening when I was only about 3-years old, Miss Christine was visiting during our family's weekly "visit" gatherings, which meant lots of gossip. She was one of our town’s hairdressers who sported a bouffant so high it was in danger of being caught in our ceiling fan. She was always very smartly dressed, with impeccably polished nails and perfect hair. 

I was fascinated with Miss Christine. She was like a real-life Dolly Parton - minus the huge tits and rhinestones - right there in my living room. However, even the snappiest dressers can drop the ball, and one Sunday evening I went over to Miss Christine, crawled into her lap, looked her straight in the eye and said - keep in mind, I wasn’t yet four years old:

'Miss Christine, you look real pretty...

But your purse and your shoes don’t match.'

Let's just say it was the first time I made a room fall apart!

Once I got to college in the larger city of Birmingham, I began to realize there was a great big world outside of my small hometown. And I finally was able to start becoming the person I was meant to be, in all my glitter-encrusted glory.

I launched a successful career as a professional dancer and choreographer, traveling all over the U.S. with musicals and working with some of the greatest pros in show business. I have had the good fortune to live in New York, San Francisco, and now currently Los Angeles. And I’m blessed to share a gorgeous home with my amazing husband and our two cats. 

Currently, I “co-exist” with the “showgirl, chanteuse, and Southern belle” Poppy Fields and perform as one-half of the cabaret act “Mack & Poppy.”

It does indeed “get better” - but here’s the catch: You have to make it get better, and realize that there are always hardships, always tests, and always people who will hurl insults your way - even when you’re an adult.  

You learn, though, to remember that the ones who take issue with you and/or your sexuality are insignificant, and those who are truly meant to be part of your life, or are important in your life, don’t give a damn who you love.

All-in-all, it’s been an amazing ride and great life, and it’s still going strong. 

And I sure learned a lot from those “steel magnolias” that surrounded me as a child; and I know that wherever she is now, Miss Christine would be pleased that my purse and my shoes always match!

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Felix

Felix, age 7

Los Angeles, CA (1977)

My childhood consisted of lots of church. I was raised in a conservative, fundamentalist Christian home. My family’s circle consisted of members from our own religious affiliation. And our family vacations were just trips to attend church conventions. Television and dancing were not allowed in our home. 

As a teen my parents’ TV ban relaxed, and I was introduced to pop culture icons like “Wonder Woman,” Donna Summer, and "H.R. Puffnstuff."

TV revealed entertainment that a boy like me was naturally inclined to enjoy. My male cousins watched sports and wrestling, which I found boring and stupid. 

I attended 8 different schools because we kept moving. The changing of schools always left me with a feeling of being different, odd and left-out.

Adding to my dilemma, I was terrible at sports and was always chosen last for teams. 

Later, I came to the realization that my out-of-place feelings were not because I was the new kid or because I lacked skills for sports. But rather, because I was gay, effeminate, and everyone could see it.

Childhood was not easy, especially hearing awful insults at school. But then to also be in the house of God and hear the same messages made my life feel worthless and insignificant.

I did excel in academics and that opened a way out of my sheltered upbringing.
I was able to attend and live on-campus during my college years. During those years, I did a lot of self-discovery and learned about self-esteem. 

Today, I attend the Metropolitan Community church,  and I've met many friends with a similar upbringing. And I finally feel like I found my own tribe!

Recently, I re-visited a favorite childhood movie: “H.R. Puffnstuff” from 1969. Mama Cass Elliott sings a song called “Different.”  

And I realized she was singing about me!
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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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Tommy

Tommy, age 2

San Jose, California (1975)

My mother tells me the staff at the Sears portrait studio were so impressed with this photo of me, that they wanted to hang it on their wall in the lobby. 

"What does the T stand for? Is it Tammy?" they said. "No," my mother corrected. "More like Tommy." This was my first reported instance of an occasion that would become a regular theme in my life.

I was 2-years old and people were already doing double-takes while apologizing under their breath for misidentifying my gender. "He’s pretty - for a boy” was the first of the backhanded compliments I was poised to receive as I got older.

As  a kid, it used to bother me that I was often mistaken for a girl, and my easily mortified teenage self suffered accordingly. Because people didn’t quite know how to categorize me by sight, I learned to transcend polarization. 

I understood early that gender was a social construction that was completely malleable. I felt the need to refrain from conforming to the gender biases of popular culture and to create my own. 

If I liked a shirt in the girl’s department and it fit me, I wasn’t stymied by the fact that it buttoned up the opposite side. I learned how to bridge the gap between my yin and yang. 

I trace the early understanding of gender politics I had to this photo.
T was for Tommy but it was also for trans - as in transcending transgender. 

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Joshua

Joshua, age 14

Paradise, California (1993)

As a child, I was generally very quiet and introverted. I always found solace and tranquility in writing rather than involving myself in social activities. But I was active in theater in my early teens and on my high school’s cross country team in my freshman year.

I first came out to my mother at the age of 15. It was pretty rewarding, and my family has always accepted me as a person regardless of differences that may exist between us. As a teenager, I was active in the local LGBT community center, and I have been fortunate that I never have been harassed or singled out for being gay.

During college though, I went back in the closet and I eventually became very religious. As a result of social pressures, I eventually married a woman.

After the birth of our first child, our marriage slowly fell apart. Around the time of our second child, I met a man whom I had brief contact with.

I soon realized I needed to confront my true identity instead of hiding behind a veil of falsehood. 

I revealed to my wife the secret that I had been hiding from her for years. She told me she always had known and was willing to accept the fact that I was gay. We came to the understanding that we would have to separate. 

I began to turn to close friends and even rabbis for moral support as I began this new phase in my life. Thankfully, I have found nothing but love and support from everybody with whom I have shared this intimate detail of my life.

As a religious Jew, I hid the secret of my sexual orientation from everybody.
But today I know that Judaism embraces the gay identity, even with certain prohibitions in regard to particular acts.

The essence of being a gay Jew, however, is acceptable in the eyes of God.

I did not know this for a long time, and had I known it, my adult life would have been much easier. 

But I am happy now and look forward to a beautiful future in which I can celebrate the internal synthesis of all the different aspects of my life.

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Greg

Greg, age 8
Santa Ana, California (1997)

I was lucky enough to have been born to a mother who had the innate ability to tell I was gay when I was very young. To be honest, since I was so focused with my studies all the way to about 11th grade in high school, I hadn't really paid much attention to my sexuality.

It wasn't until I turned 16 that I finally came out to myself, and at 17 I came out to my mom.

I wrote a letter wanting to explain everything, since I knew doing it on the fly would result in just a total breakdown.

However, I forgot to put the letter away after I wrote it - it was 4am when I finished! - and my mom found it that morning.

And I'll never forget what she said to me:

"The only man I was ever angry about being gay was Elton John, because that was when I knew I wouldn't be able to marry him!"

I know I'm lucky to have grown up in such an accepting household. It saddens me that LGBT youth are harassed and bullied, simply for being who they are.

All I can say is, be proud, stay strong, and never forget that it is you who are in control of your life. As hard as the road may seem, it is your own strength and resolve alone that will carry you through your toughest trials in life.
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Wendell

Wendell & Rick, age 3 and 5

Brownsville, Texas (1955)

Here's my brother Rick dressed as Davy Crockett's wife Polly and I'm dressed as his husband Davy. He carefully draped cloth over his head to make lovely hair and wore a bath robe for her beautiful dress. He placed a piece of white cloth on my head (which is supposed to be a coonskin hat) so I could be his husband.

I decided Davy needed a nice dress also, so I tied a belt around a brightly colored pillow and placed it in front of me as a skirt. Then we added Ricky's prized "Tiny Tears" doll as our darling child to complete the picture.

When Daddy saw us, he was not interested in taking a picture, so Ricky sent me to do it. I was the baby and still Daddy's favorite, so talked him in to it. I waited until my mother had had a few cocktails and then went in to convince her to get Daddy to take these pictures. 

He was willing to take my picture but did not want to take Ricky's.

"But you have to," I told him. "He is my wife. Davy loves Polly very much."
Daddy thought this was very funny and took these pictures.

Later we saw a faux coon skin at the store and I was asked if I wanted to try it on. I did, but when I felt the tail I freaked out and started crying. When they asked what was wrong, I said: "He killed that cat!"

In 5th grade I broke with Davy Crockett for good when I wrote a school report about the U.S. government's policy of exterminating buffalo to destroy Native American culture. I also discovered that Davy was an alcoholic murderer and racist who killed a black man and got away with it, claiming he was too drunk to know what he was doing. I titled it "DAVY CROCKETT WAS A MURDERER!"

My teacher was a bit nervous about this. 

She gave me a good grade but made me change the title.

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Austin

Austin, age 4
Novato, California (1978)

“Mom, what is gay?” That’s what left my lips one day when I returned home from kindergarten. After having been called it over and over, I kinda wanted to know what it meant. Mom did what she’s done my entire life - she told me the truth. No judgment. No shame. Just truth.

Even though I had no idea what sexual orientation was, 

I knew this much: I wasn’t going to be something people saw as different, even if I was. 

And I spent the next 20 years living up to my misguided commitment.

Through all of the bullying, teasing, hurt, and loneliness,  I fooled myself into believing if I didn’t acknowledge being gay, it wasn’t real. 

I remember looking at Ricky Schroeder on "Silver Spoons" and thinking:

"I think I ‘like’ him. But only gay boys ‘like’ other boys, so I’ll just not like him."

And I never watched "Silver Spoons" again. It was all too real. 

The only one I was fooling was myself. As was evidenced when I began my coming out at age 25. That process was both wonderful and frustrating. I didn’t have one negative reaction to my coming out, which was such a relief.

What I found frustrating was this: when you finally make the agonizing decision to come out, you want a certain kind of “TA-DAH!” moment. Well, no one was surprised. It was more like a “Well, duh!” moment. Over. And over. And over. 

It was better than the alternative, but it took me some time to get comfortable in this “new” skin, the skin everyone was aware of but me. I had to get to know myself all over again. 

I’m still in the middle of that process. During the past 15 years, I’ve been the most destroyed and most overjoyed I’ve ever been. I consider my high-highs and low-lows evidence that I’m living a full life. I’ve loved. I’ve lost. I’ve grown. I’ve learned. 

My true passion is photography, and I’ve been fortunate enough to have really beautiful subjects in front of my lens, both inanimate and human alike. I’m so proud of who I am, who I'm surrounded by, and the man I continue to become. 

As I look at this picture now, I see exactly what I want to see:
A carefree, flamboyant young boy just living in the moment. 

If I could go back and talk to my 4 year-old self, I’d say nothing more than:

“Just be yourself, kiddo. It’s going to be a fabulous ride.”

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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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Brad

Brad, age 9
San Diego, California (1980)

This picture is from one of my first dance recitals, where I began to find my true self. I even remember that the name of the dance was "Turkey In The Straw."

I couldn't catch a ball or play sports, but when I put on my tap shoes and a sequined vest, I felt valid and real. Like I mattered. I knew I wasn’t like other boys, but I didn't know how or why.

The teasing, embarrassment, and shame had not started when I was that age. I was just enjoying being me, and I long to be that boy again. I want to be myself without the ridicule and judgment of others.

As a teen, my walls were covered with posters of James Dean and Elvis Presley. I thought I wanted to be them, but I was actually attracted to them.

No. Fred Astaire is who I wanted to be!

At age 15 my experimenting with boys began, and although it felt right, I lied to myself for another 6 years. Coming out was hard, but it was much more freeing than living a lie.

It took time to find my footing, but now because of my honesty, I’m a better son, brother, friend, partner and uncle. It was very hard to resist the temptation of giving up my dreams because of the bullying, but it has all paid off.

Today at 41 years old, I miss that kid in the picture. He was authentic, and that is something I am striving for now.  I've been in 7 Broadway shows over the years, so now I pay my mortgage wearing my tap shoes and other dance shoes.

I turned being different into a success.
I am gay and proud, but that is just a sampling of many wonderful qualities.
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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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Robert

Robert, age 5
White Settlement, Texas (1943)

This was snapped on my first day of school, in a place called "Liberator Village." "Liberators" were bomber war planes made in a factory there, and my tiny Mama crawled inside their wings and welded things.

Back then, kids couldn't start school till after their 6th birthday. But because Mama didn't want me to wait till I was nearly 7 to start, she falsified my birth date so I could start when I was still age 5.

Because I read well, I was quickly promoted to 2nd grade. Although lonely among older kids, I wasn't afraid of school.

One summer, I had lured neighbor boys into the schoolhouse's deeply-recessed doorways to play "You show me yours, I’ll show you mine."

I never had problems about my gayness. Because homosexuality was so feared,
no one ever talked about it or warned me against it. So I wasn't indoctrinated.

Also, I read Sappho, Catullus, Isherwood, and Auden early, and it was actually harder being smart than it was being gay.

I was beat up through high-school for "carrying too many books." Although both straight and gay boys attended my notorious "slumber parties," they were afraid to befriend me in everyday life.

Thus, I lived vicariously through movies and books, and instead of having steady boyfriends, I secretly worshiped movie star Tab Hunter.

Later in life I was alone and maladjusted. I dropped out of college and was thrown out of the Air Force. I fortunately visited New York and wandered into the Caffe Cino, the first Off-Off Broadway Theatre - and the birthplace of gay theatre.

And it was there, at last, that I found artistic, intelligent, gay friends and lovers. Though I was openly gay, I had an international playwrighting career.

It’s somewhat easier being gay today, but things can change in an instant.
Or worse, they can change with an election. So be wise and be wary, kids.
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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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Joey

Joey, age 7
Bell Gardens, California (1973)

As a young boy I knew I was different, but never really knew how or why.

In the 4th grade there was a boy named Steve in my class. He was much tougher than me and walked me home every single day that year.

I'm not sure if he walked me home to protect me or did that because he knew I was different.

Or, if he felt different too and felt some kind of unity in our daily walk.

It took me 27 years to come out as a gay man. I had a teenage girlfriend and married my ex-wife at the age of 23. Could my life have been easier if I came out earlier on? That is a question I really can't answer.

Today I'm 46, and these are the happiest days of my life. I have a partner of six years and someday soon, will be able to say we are married. I also have a daughter who is 7 years old - around the same age that I was beginning to question why I felt different.

My coming out as a gay man has let me express my true self, create the family I have always wanted, and find the peace and joy that this 7 year old boy was always looking for.
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  Click - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
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Marty

Marty, age 6
Los Angeles, California (1968)

Every summer my parents would take our family on a camping trip to various places in California by a lake or river. My dad did his best to teach me and my brothers one of his favorite past times - fishing. Where my brothers excelled at this, all I ever wanted to do was goof off and practice casting the reel.

This would inevitably cause my dad to send me away to play with my sisters, which was fine with me. Of course when it came time to be posing the camera,
I was always a willing participant!

My childhood was basically a happy one. Although, school was difficult at times and I did my best to stay invisible to stave off the inevitable bullies.

I had a large loving family that provided a happy oasis, and my siblings were all welcoming to how I chose to express my identity. In fact, my older sisters often took pleasure in dressing me up in various "costumes" from their closet for photo opportunities. Again, I was a willing participant.

Coming out to my siblings was pretty much a non issue. I remember calling to tell them, and the response was always the same: 'Oh, I know' followed by 'I love you.' I just wanted to get it out in the open so we didn't have to pretend anymore.

I never had the nerve to formally come out to my parents, but eventually it was just how it was. As a kid I endured 'faggot' jokes at the dinner table from my dad. But as we both matured, he couldn't have been more loving or supportive of me.

My mother was pure love at heart, but sometimes hid behind the world of denial. I remember visiting her once with my sister and talking about love and pining for when we'd each have a relationship. My mom's response to my sister was not to worry, it will come. But to me, she said that I didn't need that.

Thankfully, as we both matured, knowledge led to her acceptance.
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Click - "My First Gay Crush Blog"

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Melanie

Melanie, age 6
Downey, California (1970)

This was me at Christmas, the first year I discovered Santa Claus was basically a hoax perpetrated by generations of traditional family propagandists and greedy department stores. You can tell by my expression how excited I was about that inflatable reindeer and pink nightgown...

Every year I'd receive typical "girly" gifts when what I really wanted was the Hot Wheels® Mongoose & Snake Race Set.

I wore boys' clothes and shoes, so of course I wanted boys' TOYS! But noooo - Barbie dolls and plush toys were all I got.

But Stephen the neighbor boy had the Hot Wheels® sets, and he often let me play with them.

Stephen also eventually gave me my first kiss, which was quite thrilling. But wait, you say - that means I must be straight!

Well, not purely. See, I hated (and still despise) most things feminine.

I never wanted to get married, have kids, or become domesticated. That all sounded like absolute misery to me. I never wanted to be associated with "the weaker sex" - so I basically consider myself a gay male trapped in a female body.

The message I would impart to LGBTQ youth is that it is vital to live your life being true to yourself first. That is a truth that spans all human conditions.

Be true to who you are and what you desire in life, regardless of who objects to it. It takes a lot of courage to do, but you will develop that strength each time you exercise your right to be yourself.

Staying to true to you is the only way you will find the true joy in life.
____________________________________________________

"Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Also check out "My First Gay Crush Blog"

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Sarah

Sarah, age 3
Nampa, Idaho (1973)

I remember this Christmas well. I sat on Santa's lap at the mall and asked for a chainsaw. He looked pretty confused according to my mom, but it must have made an impression - because it's what I got! My eyes are a little red in the photo from crying, because I had to wear a dress.

Growing up in Idaho, I didn't know I was gay. But I knew "gay" was a derogatory term.

I knew I liked girls since I can remember and needed to hide it. I also remember my my first celebrity crush was Samantha on "Bewitched."

Right around the time of this photo I got a boy's style haircut and had the kids convinced I was a boy.

I had little girlfriends who would make me the husband when they played house.

I even had a girlfriend in kindergarten and we'd kiss on the bus.

During 1st grade, I was outed by the bus driver as a girl. He told everyone, "Sarah is a girl's name! You are a girl!" I was mortified. I eventually gave up the charade, but school was tough. I always felt like a freak who didn't fit in.

I moved to Los Angeles once I graduated school and finally felt at home for the first time in my life. I'm very happy and comfortable with myself now as I don't have to pretend anymore. And I've been with my wife for almost 17 years now.
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"Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Also check out "My First Gay Crush Blog"

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