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

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Vincent

Vincent, age 7

Batavia, New York (1988)

I was in the 1st grade and got cast in a community theater production of
The Wizard of Oz. It began an obsession with all aspects of the show.
I collected everything I could, even going as far as begging my parents for a Scarecrow doll. Every chance I had I would park myself in front of the television to watch the movie.

I found my sister’s Dorothy costume and proceeded to put it on, over-sized ruby slippers included. Family was visiting and I thought nothing of showing off my outfit - though my father was less than pleased.

It was never spoken of again, although years later I asked myself, ‘How could he have been so surprised when I came out?’

Theater became a staple in my life. Looking back, it allowed me to experiment with different personalities or be someone different.

Growing up I became more and more introverted (especially after puberty), but theater was a way I could put all that aside and live another life where it didn’t matter. I suppose that was when I started feeling “different”.

The best advice I could give young, gay kids now is to find an outlet like I did. Art is a great way to express yourself in any medium, whether it’s visual or aural. Just putting words to paper can be a great release.

Vincent's famous-person same sex crush:
Prince Eric ("The Little Mermaid")