Andrea

Andrea, age 3
Baltimore, Maryland (1993)

I had no clue that I was gay while growing up. Looking back, there honestly weren't many clues, as I was obsessed with many typically "girly" things. I loved baby dolls, my Littlest Pet Shop, and my princess nightgowns.

Although I had a tomboy streak,
I largely attribute that to growing up with a twin brother. 

Everything between us was a competition, but there was nothing to hint at my future sexuality.

In fact, it took me well into my college years to begin to question things. I developed a significant crush on one of my roommates during junior and senior year but was too oblivious (and definitely subconsciously afraid) to act on it.

It wasn't until I was age 23 that I officially told my family that I was interested in girls.

I'm one of the lucky ones, as I was born into a family that has absolutely no issues with my gayness. My siblings and I were encouraged to play with whatever toys we wanted and to explore extracurricular activities we were drawn to, regardless of whether they were stereotypically male or female centric. 

So I didn't have to worry that I would be treated any differently once I came out. And thankfully, I haven't been.

My only regret is that I didn't realize I was gay until so relatively late.

I think that if I had had more contact with gay people growing up, perhaps it would have occurred to me earlier than it did.

My wife knew she was gay significantly earlier than I did. She says she thinks this is largely due to the number of other gay girls she came in contact with growing up, especially while playing elite level soccer in England.

At any rate, I am now happily married and, although we currently live in Mississippi (where being openly gay can still be a bit of a crap shoot when it comes to acceptance), we have amazing family and friends and we're looking forward to starting a family in the near future.
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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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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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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"
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Cal

Cal, age 5
Manchester, Maryland (1987)

I'm pictured on the right with my pants tucked into my boots so you could see how pretty they were. I was always told, 'Boys don't tuck their jeans into their boots, girls do.' I just know I always felt more comfortable doing things my way!

I like how happy I look in this picture with my friends. This is one of many pictures that just scream, "Come on! Were you surprised I'm gay? Really?" Recently I gathered my pictures from birth through high school. In this picture you see my smile, and see that I am happy.

But I soon realized I was different and knew I was gay. Those of us born this way have always known it on some level. Unfortunately, the older I got the more my smile went away. And that breaks my heart. I look at my pictures and I feel so much pain for a little boy that just wanted to be loved so badly.

If there is one good thing I can say and ask of anyone who reads this, it is this:

If parents notice their kids or their friends' kids aren't smiling anymore, find out why. And show them some love. Whenever you suspect that someone just needs some love, I would say 99% of the time it's an accurate intuition.

I hope that somehow my story will touch even one person to reach out and help someone's smile last longer than mine did. All it takes is a few minutes to extend love to someone, especially a child that is begging to be loved.
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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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Enzo

Enzo, age 2

Baltimore, Maryland (1967)

This photo was taken behind my grandmother's townhouse in East Baltimore. Obviously, I saw women pose this way for photos, and just assumed I was supposed to do the same thing.  I don't think I had a sense of femininity yet, clearly from what I'm doing with my mouth!

We were a big Sicilian family and my relatives lived across the street. When I was 3, we moved to rural Michigan and my life turned to hell.

But I always spent summers on that same block, and it was my world, my own Sesame Street.

An Uncle of mine died just before I was born, and he was all anyone spoke about.


He'd become a fairly famous songwriter, and I knew at 3 he was gay. Or rather, that he was like me, but I had no idea it had anything to do with sex. 

I was aware of gay men whenever I saw them, because they were nothing like my uncles. They didn't have women telling them what to do, and they were fun to be around. And they'd ALL been to Europe, or said they had. That was all I wanted out of life, and I wrote an essay in 2nd grade about how I wanted to be "queer" when I grew up.

Queer was the only word I knew for it, and had no idea it would be a problem. But when I read the essay in class, my mom was called into school. If anything,
I thought gays were superior. But I also knew stupid people made fun of them.

Looking at this photo now reminds me that as a child, men seemed peripheral and irrelevant. They were always somewhere else, doing something that didn't seem to matter much.

TV was the same: Men worked in suits and were boring and tried to hold back. The women were clearly smarter and more clever in every way.

Thus, I identified with women (and later gay men) as being the road to my independence. Even today I am still uncomfortable in all-homogenous groups, especially all-gay or all-white. 

Currently, I've been married almost 12 years. And I write & perform plays about my background. And today's kids seem to relate more than people my own age.
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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"

Alex

Alex, age 3
Baltimore, MD (1990)

When I was a little girl, my mother loved to dress me up in Laura Ashley dresses, elaborate bows, and shiny saddle shoes. And I resisted, hard. I was content wearing my older brother's hand me down clothes, and play catch with him and my dad. My less-than-amused look says it all.

"The dress works fine, but let's save it for my girlfriend next time."

Indeed, I had tomboyish streaks growing up, but I've always been kind of an old-school fag at heart. Mom instilled in me a love for dance music, fine dress, and meticulous grooming - though she may not love how I present myself now.

My dad forced me to watch AMC, where I discovered a bevy of effete "bachelor" characters in glamorous old films, who were my idols. My favorite character on the legendary "The Kids In The Hall" was (and always will be) Scott Thompson's inimitable swish, Buddy Cole.

When I came out at 13, I embarked on a journey in search of identity comfort. As a Catholic school girl in a single-sex environment, I felt pressure to be feminine. When I got to college, I attempted stone butch. Then God help me - I had a sneaker phase. 10 years after my foray into faggotry, I'm happy and comfortable with ambiguity.

And I delight in answering to, "Are you a boy or a girl?"

Nothing is ever easy when people view you as different. It takes a while to get to a good place, and 99% of the time it's a terrible and arduous process. It can tear people apart, cause unimaginable pain, and seem like it's taking forever.

But nothing is more "worth it" than feeling comfortable in one's own skin.
Or wingtips. Or stilettos. You know what I mean.

And, as for floral dresses and shiny shoes? ISO W4W.

Alexandra's first, famous-person same sex crush:
Sofia Coppola (in "The Godfather, Part III")

Even at that age I knew the movie was terrible, but Sofia was BEAUTIFUL!
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