Kelly

Kelly, age 9
Cordell, Oklahoma (1986)

I was born n' raised in a small rural town in Oklahoma. My Daddy was the high school football coach, my brother was the all-star athlete, and my uncle (my Dad's older brother) is Mickey Mantle of the New York Yankees. No big deal, he's just mentioned right up there with Uncle Sam, apple pie, and Jesus Christ.

And then there was ME!

Townsfolk would ask, "Kelly...you gonna grow up and be a famous baseball player like your Uncle Mickey?”

'No,' I'd say. 'When I grow up, I'm gonna be a black soul singer just like Diana Ross.' 

Because one is just about as likely as the other.

The only thing Uncle Mickey and I had in common was switch-hitting!

As a kid, I used to dress up in Grandma's clothes and play Dolly Parton songs on my lil' geetar.

And they had no clue what the hell was happening!

But regardless, I was blessed with parents who always encouraged me to embrace my differences and “eccentricities.” They accepted me as every parent should for their child! Bless their wrinkled little hearts.

And as you can see in this picture, I LOVED being a little girly-boy. I think I had just told Santa that I wanted a Barbie, a boy, and some boobies! It made him very uncomfortable, and I didn't understand why. Because I loved being different than my peers, and I wasn't ashamed to be me.

That's a true testament to my upbringing.

But, like most of us, I had my fair share of getting bullied from time to time. Usually from kids from other schools at out-of-town events. Their favorite taunt was always "Are you a boyyyy or a girrrrl?" And I'd say 'Both!' Like it was a bad thing? I never could figure that out. Who wouldn't wanna be both?

Luckily, because of our LGBTQ pioneers that came before me, we now have terminology that kids can use today. In my case, it would be "gender-fluid."
Or as I prefer, "two-spirit" because after all I AM a Cherokee Native American Poke-A-Hot-Ass from Oklahomo.

So when I look at this picture of me and Santa, that's who I see — a late blooming two-spirited little gender-fluid kid, almost too comfortable in my own skin — but unsure how to explain it to others. Yet, never afraid to show it or be it, and most importantly — never once told to hide it.

And that would be my Christmas wish to Santa today — for every little boy and girl and in-between to be given the freedom to be in love with yourself exactly as you are! And to realize that when another person tries to hurt you, they're actually the one who's hurting.

Because people who love themselves, don't hurt others.
So don't ever let anyone change who you were born to be.

I’m Kelly Mantle, and I was BORN THIS WAY!
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Bobby & Leticia

Bobby & Leticia (cousins), age 3
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma (1993)

Bobby:
Growing up in a family that was all women, I quickly latched on to the one that was closest to me in age. I think I first realized I was gay around 3 or 4, but I didn't know it was called being gay. I always thought I was, then the dreams started. In my head I remember thinking, "Yep I'm gay." All I knew is that guys were what I liked. Girls were just my friends.

Leticia and I being born in the same family is no accident. I believe God knew that we would need each other. She was the first person I told I was gay, and the first to understand my fear. She has helped me through life and all its struggles.
When I told my mom I was gay this year, I was scared. But she still loves me.

Leticia:
I first realized I was different when I was 6, and a game of pretend house that lead to me kissing a girl. I think I knew something was going on with me, considering I was playing the husband. I have always just been one of the guys.

I told my mother when I was 14 and my dad when I was 20. It's been a long journey, but I feel that I'm lucky because I have had my cousin Bobby this whole time. We are now 22 and 21, and we talk every day with no boundaries.

I lucked out being raised with him, and I know that he feels the same for me.
My family loves me no matter what. I am accepted and that's all I ask for.

Both:
We are lucky to have each other, and a family that never stopped loving us.
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John

John, age 6
Duncan, OK (1977)

I always knew I was "different" and my family could sense it too. Especially my big sister. She was constantly making fun of me, picking on me, and occasionally beating the crap out of me! I finally decided I'd had enough - of her and everyone else - and I learned some stealth moves. Just check my photo!

After standing up for myself, my sister and I became best friends.
And to this day, we are fiercely protective of one another.

Being a confident and self-assured gay kid went a long way in keeping the
rednecks of Oklahoma off my back. And shaped me into the proud and strong gay man I am today.

I also still enjoy breaking out this special move - but in a slightly more private environment. :)

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Saxon

Saxon, age 6
Tulsa, Oklahoma (1995)

Going through my fathers' pictures for his 50th birthday, I came across this one. It was taken at my grandmother's house in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

I had the best memories there, hanging out at the lake with my dad, and just being a crazy kid.

I'm 22 now, and a working performance artist. As this picture shows, I had a flair for the dramatic at an early age!

Looking back, I don't consider myself overly flamboyant.

I just had an amazing support system, so I didn't care about the perceptions of others.

And I must say, I couldn't have asked for a better childhood.

AND IT JUST GETS BETTER!
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Timothy

Timothy, age 8
Tulsa, OK (1973)

My road to acceptance was a long one. First of all, know that my father was super masculine major league baseball player Jim Beauchamp, so I had to be his worst nightmare. It took him awhile to get used to the fact he didn't really have two boys and a girl, but one that was sort of "in between." Check the hand on my hip...

I knew I was gay from the first time I ever heard the word.

When I heard my older brother describing me as "gay" and "sissy," I thought to myself,
"Yep... that's me!"

I really struggled with acceptance of my gender identity up until the age where I hit puberty.

And there was something about that testosterone burst that pushed me over the edge and made me glad to be a guy.

Up until then I was destined for gender reassignment surgery.

I can't remember ever asking for gender appropriate toys, or developing normal friendships with boys. I used to blackmail my sister to get her to ask for the toys
I wanted by threatening, "All right, Ann Rene, I'm squealing if you don't ask for Barbie's Malibu Beach House for Christmas!"

Christmas would come and I would tear through my footballs, baseballs and other sports equipment. But then, I'd join my sister in frantically opening her presents, and we would SCREAM, HUG EACH OTHER, and JUMP WITH DELIGHT at the sight of a new Easy Bake Oven or Barbie's 747 Jumbo Jet.

Every now and then I'd steal a glance at my father slumped in his chair with his, "What did I do wrong? This can't be happening!" look on his face. Poor guy...

And my message to young LGBTQ kids is BE WHO YOU ARE!
You are our future, and we love you just the way you are.
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Steven

Steven, age 4
Carlsbad, California (1969)

I was born in Oklahoma. My mom was 2nd generation Sicilian and my dad was from Missouri. My sister remembers this as her baton-twirling costume. I don't remember wearing it, but I'm sure my mom thought it was harmless and funny.

I remember as early as this age, that
I loved feminine things, art, and playing "doctor" with my cute neighbors. I guess I was very curious and cute myself, because I remember older boys flirting with me.

I was in chorus and the band, like many of us back then. But I also remember being the only boy to choose
"disco class" over football in Jr. High.

And, my mother said my father "always knew."

As a young teen, "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" played at the local theater. I went done up as Frank N. Furter and dethroned the person playing him. I realized that if I was performing, I was more powerful.
I was always misstaken for older, because my makeup was so fabulous.

Then the 80's arrived, and I soon discovered Hollywood and other out-of-the-closet gay teens. The Odyssey club in West Hollywood was an under-18 disco,
and I had my first gay kiss there. My look was compared to Marc Almond from
Soft Cell. We all loved Boy George and the freedom to cross gender barriers.
 

In 1985 I moved to New York City and quickly became part of the night life.
Drag culture had taken over Manhattan night clubs, so I added tits to my new romantic looks, and eventually morphed into a drag queen.

Within a year, I was hired by Patricia Field as a stylist. I also won a drag contest at The Boy Bar club, as Miss Perfidia 1986. I lived with established drag performers who trained me well, and I took my show all over the world .

My crowning achievement as a drag performer is seen in "Wigstock: The Movie," which really showcased NYC as it was back then. My Perfidia's Wig World shop is featured in the movie, as well as my performance.

My interest and talent with wigs eventually lead to Broadway. My designs were seen in "The Pee Wee Herman" show on Broadway for HBO and I was also responsible for the wigs seen in the cult TV classic, "Strangers With Candy."

Most currently, I am styling for "Hedwig On Broadway."

Good times!
xo Steven / Miss Perfidia
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Parker

Parker, age 5

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma (1994)

Nothing was more exhilarating than whirling and twirling in my mother's dresses. Here, I am wearing my favorite of hers. It was lightweight, covered in beautiful roses, and just sheer enough to feed my need to walk on the wild side.

How my mother was surprised when my infatuation with boys came out in the open, I haven't the slightest idea.

I think a lot of people that have struggled with being different wish their family would have walked them through the awkward glances, and the general lack of comfort that comes with growing up that way.

Even so, I could never blame my family for being just as confused as I was, at the time.

I remember feeling a little fancier than other boys my age.

My concerns, were different from their concerns:


Why would my cousin let her dolls have such ratty hair?
If I couldn't have a purse, where was I supposed to put my things?
Why didn't the Pink and the Red Power Rangers ever get together?

I mean, they were both hot. It made sense.

My VHS copy of "The Wizard of Oz" played a key role in my youth. The concept of some small town, decently pretty kid, being swept off to a far away land - only to be truly wanted, occasionally envied, befriended by eccentrics, and come home at the end of the day having learned all of life's lessons - was the most perfect scenario I'd ever heard of.

Pop culture was my first addiction, though. Late at night, in music videos, I'd catch glimpses of myself in people who seemed unimaginably confident and beautiful. That's all I've ever wanted to be.

Since those days of twirling and brushing doll hair, I've found my beauty and comfort in creativity. I'm a stylist at the most rock 'n roll hair salon in Oklahoma. I'm also a musician, I'm an artist, I'm still fancy, and I'm still learning.

I'm learning that it does get better. Exceptionally better.

Parker's first, famous-person same sex crush:

Fred Savage (in "The Wonder Years")

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Jack

Jack, age 12

Pauls Valley, Oklahoma (1987)

This photo is more about my mom than about me. As you can see, I was an aspiring decorator in my mother's classroom at age 12. I loved any holiday, and we had decorations for all of them, but Christmas took the cake.

As a teacher's kid, hanging out at the school after hours, but before everyone went home, was a magic time.

Only other teachers' kids would truly understand the power of feeling like you OWNED the building.

I have such a clear memory of the day this picture was taken.

I BEGGED my mom to let me decorate her room for the holiday, and of course, she let me. Why I chose to wrap myself up in all this  tinsel like the love child of Lady Gaga and Jayne Mansfield, I don't know.

I remember performing a little dance around the room to some bad 80's music, for all of the other teachers' kids. Getting other people to laugh was a constant coping mechanism for me, and I remember consciously thinking to myself:
"They can't hit you if they're laughing - even if it's AT you."

My mom came in the room to witness the scene, thought it was hilarious as always, grabbed her camera, and took a picture. She always pushed me to try new things, but never deterred me from being myself, which may have included a (very, very short) stint as a local fashion model at age 13.

Now as a happy gay man in my early 30's I can't tell you how lucky I was to have a mom that just loved me, for all I brought to the table. Even in Oklahoma.

As much as middle or high school can totally suck, the message I can leave with those reading this small snippet of my life is:

Love yourself in the now, and for all that you bring to the table.

A testament to that is I can now OWN this picture, and love me for who I have always been. Though I am a bit ashamed of the ugly cable knit sweater...
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Jan

Jan, age 8

Edmond, Oklahoma (1978)

That’s me on the left, and don’t I look excited?! My sister is sitting next to me with her usual big smile. I had the girliest sister in the entire universe. The pic now makes me laugh. And If I actually thought I was ever fooling anybody about being straight, the gay clearly shines through here in the pic.


I think I knew that I was "different" around age 4.

How can you not know when your closest sibling is the princess of the world?

She always wanted me to play with dolls or have tea parties, or some prissy thing.

Which got on my nerves. Why do that crap when you can play with GI Joe or the Millennium Falcon?


While she was busy spinning around like Wonder Woman and jumping on the furniture like the Bionic Woman, I was playing Han Solo frozen in carbonite,
or single-handedly battling Sasquatch in our playroom

I grew up with my fair share of bullies, but I was lucky because I was funny and could run fast. I was also a really good skater. The first time I saw Kristy McNichol, my life changed. I had a real purpose. I just knew one day I would roller skate up to her in my satin jacket and offer her a piggy back. Naturally she would jump on and off we’d roll into the sunset - obviously with a rainbow visible in the background.

The first person I told about being a lesbian was my sister. She could not have cared less, and said she would always love me no matter what. And she has, and she is still the girliest girl I know.

I grew up in a relatively small town, and it was really difficult and sad at times. But I look back now and see how it got easier and easier each year for me to stop pretending. I accepted who I was, and ultimately became truly happy in my own skin. I have no doubt that it will be the same for you, too.

Jan's first, famous-person same sex crush:

Kristy McNichol

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Kevin

Kevin, age 3

Marlow, Oklahoma (1967)

This tea set was one of my cousin Suzanne's Christmas gifts. We're 7 months apart and we'd sometimes swap Christmas toys. One year we both got portable record players with companion story books. I got "Peter Rabbit" and Suzanne "Sleeping Beauty" and we traded. She always shared her Barbies with me, too.
It's one of the reasons I grew so close to Suzanne, as she never judged me about playing with "girl" toys. She's a grandmother now and we're still very close.

I learned from my family's reactions to my desire to play house (or dress up, or to have a Ken doll) that there was something odd in wanting these things. But I was totally ignorant of what it all meant. But in 4th grade, I asked my mother what the name I was being called on the playground meant. She told me that a "homo" was a man who lived with another man, like she lived with my father.

I could tell from the way she described it that she disapproved of "homos" too.
So I pretended to be disgusted by it. As I felt certain she was convinced that I was one too, I went upstairs and cried. There was a name for it, I knew it's what I was, and that I'd be hated for it. And I was horrified that everyone else could tell.

I felt I was the only one. I tried to butch it up, but wasn't very good at playing the lie. I was bullied remorselessly until I got older, and started making friends outside of high school and college. The bullying not only tortured me, it also did a number on my parents. It put them in a very difficult position of protecting me, while standing by and teaching me accepted social standards for male behavior.

That drove a wedge between us, even as they tried to comfort my regular crying fits of frustration and humiliation. I didn't feel they understood me, and I had no way to understand what they were going through either.

My father tells the story of how he went to work one day, and left his happy, gregarious, open, smiling son. And when he returned I was sullen, withdrawn and suspicious. My father thought that I was angry with him. We had a very hard time until after I was 26 and came out to them. He and my mother already knew, though she was deep in denial. But my dad already accepted me. He helped my mother through her problems with my sexuality, and continued to identify and grapple with his issues.

I wish that the social mores back then hadn't soured our relationship. But we're close now, we focus on the present, and my mother continues to come along. 

When I think about today's gay youth, I see some who still struggle with the difficulties that I, and so many others, had. But I also see so many young people who are defining the world with new eyes and fewer boundaries. They're evidence of the positive effect we've had on our world, by refusing to live in the shadows.

And they will go on to tell their stories, and those who struggle will become fewer and fewer. More people will realize that we are people, we are somewhere in every family, and we deserve to be treated fairly and with respect.

And soon accept that being gay isn't about what we do in bed, but who we love. 

Kevin's first, famous-person same sex crush:

Superman (comic-book version)

But, I wanted to be Lois Lane
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Chase

Chase, age 6

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma (1986)

As the youngest of 3, and the only boy, I idolized my sisters while growing up in Oklahoma. When my eldest sister was trying out for cheerleader, the routine was choreographed to "Girls Just Want To Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper. When no one was watching I'd sneak into her room, give her pom poms a whirl, and do the routine. And dare I say it -- even better than my sister.

"What happens when a six-year-old boy watches Dynasty?  Attitude!"

I began staying up after hours to watch all the latest Michael Jackson and Madonna videos on MTV. The fantastic celebration of artistic expression that embodied that 80’s captured my mind, body, and spirit, and made me feel free to enjoy who I was, even at an early age.

One of the more telling experiences occurred in pre-school when I was 5. I was at the art easel, painting away, when the teacher approached me. "Oh Chase, that's a lovely drawing," she said. "Is that your dad, you, and your sisters?"

I looked at her as if she were speaking Klingon.

"No," I replied curtly. "That's Anita, Ruth, and June - the Pointer Sisters. And that's their father, the Reverend Elton Pointer, giving them notes before their concert."

As for my picture: My aunt had visited the Hong Kong Zoo and brought me a souvenir T-shirt. While the rest of my family was consummately conservative and churchy, my aunt was a lover of the world. She vacationed in the East,
had a pen pal in France, spoke 4 languages, and dared to leave Oklahoma.

From an early age, I knew that she knew something was "different" about me, and it was something my aunt adored. Upon receiving her gift, and after almost a half hour of instructing my father as to the best background to show off this T-shirt, I decided on a small garden in my parents backyard.

The look of frustration on my face was well-earned; My father had not been living up to the expectations of my artistic vision. So I showed off my scowl in protest.

I feel quite nostalgic and even protective of the "me" in this picture. I was raised in a loving family that accepted me as I was, even as an imaginative young kid, and that foundation has carried me through today.

My parents expressed no great surprise when I came out of the closet, nor did they say anything except: "You're still our boy, and we love you no less."

Differ as we might on political and social opinions, growing up in such a loving environment - during such an enormously fabulous era for popular culture - I am proud I was born this way.

And, I'm just as grateful that my parents and entire family are proud as well.

Chase's first, famous-person same sex crush:

Davey Jones (The Monkees)
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