Peter

Peter, age 9
Hungary (1999)  

I grew up in a small Hungarian village, and I never encountered the subject of being gay until I started to read books and watch movies on my own. So even then, my first LGBT discoveries were in the fictional world.

I was a weak and sensitive kid. But I always had some good friends, who were mainly girls.

At age 6, I wanted to start ballet classes. But my father wouldn't allow that, so I learned karate instead. And surprisingly, I was quite good at it.

Until age 11, everything seemed normal, even neutral. Then puberty hit, and things changed with my crush on Liam Aiken from the movie "Stepmom."

We had no internet back then, so I literally started to search for other movies he was in, and I watched everything I found. However, it never occurred to me that I might be gay.

At the time, I figured I just wanted to look like him, because he was so gorgeous!

Later on, I tried to have girlfriends, but when I closed my eyes, I always imagined I was with boys. Even then I didn't suspect anything. I thought it was just part of developing my identity. At age 17, I started to date a female classmate, and we were together for four years.

Later on while attending college, I started to consider the option of dating boys.

I didn't get religious education, and my parents were less conservative than the rest of our village. And yet, my family always asked me if I already had a girlfriend or not. It took them an unnecessarily long time to discover my truth.

I came out slowly, but every single person was incredibly supportive.
And many of them said, "Finally!"

Today, I live a happy life with my fiancé now, and I don't regret the long time it took to get here. Things take time, as a friend of mine keeps saying.

My word of advice to gay kids today is: Don't be scared.

I think most people don't know much about this subject, as it's just not the part of their life. And when they find out that LGBT people live the same way, wash the dishes the same way, drive a car the same way, do everything the same way - they soon realize the only thing we do differently is a private matter.
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Lenny

Lenny, age 3
Bellevue, Idaho (1947)

I was known as Little Lenny, the "City Boy" with wild west affiliations combined with an English bloodline. My great grandparents were pioneers to the West and were among the earliest ranchers and silver-mining adventurers in Southern Idaho. I have a little Native American blood, too.

I always felt different deep down. You know what I mean? As a young child I slept outside in the summertime and stared up at the stars, pondering: 

Where does life end? 
How far is infinity? 

Nobody knows everything, but I knew being different was unanswerable even then. I had no choice but to go along with life and take a ride.

From my earliest memories I knew I was not like everyone else. But I didn't know what "gay" actually was back then. 

People mostly liked me, but I do have an older sister who sent me to the emergency room after various baby-sitting "accident" occasions. Truthfully, I would call those homicidal inclinations. 

I still have scars, and I call her "the assassin" to this day. She pretends she doesn't remember any of this because I was an "adorable" child. Yeah, right.

I know that life can be a double challenge for LGBTI people of all nationalities and races. I come from hearty English-American stock and we keep on moving no matter what troubles we encounter. It's the American Way!

I also know that we are everyone's child, sister, brother, co-worker and best friend. Gay people are a part of life and we share our lives with everyone. 

Nothing can change that fact!

I am now 72 years old and an active artist, and I live at the foot of an active volcano in Central America. I have always loved my life, and I still love my life.

And I still stare up at the stars in the heavens and feel inspired by life around me. The life I have been given is the one I deeply enjoy and am grateful to always have had. So for all the young gay kids reading this now, I will tell you: 

IT GETS BETTER! It honestly does.
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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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Norn

Norn, age 6
St. Petersburg, Florida (1975)

It was October 1975, and my my mom dressed my little sister and I up as "hookers" for Halloween. "Hookers" was a sure laugh-riot for any occasion,
but I wonder now what we thought "hookers" were?

I remember mom instructed us to "Swing your purse a lot!"

My mom also used to dress me up as Shirley Temple, Tina Turner, Cher, or Gilda Radner and have me perform for her friends during their cocktail hour. Wigs, dresses, heels, etc. They would HOWL with laughter as I camped it up, and I LOVED getting laughs!

But as I got older, and dressed in drag by my own choice, my mom grew more alarmed. Suddenly this thing that I was rewarded for, the thing that got me attention, I was now being punished for.

I'll just turned 47, and that betrayal still feels raw... Though I hadn't even thought of that until I found this photo.

But today, I still wear whatever I want and I still love to get laughs!
And my art and illustrations feature and salute many of the ladies I love.
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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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Tori

Tori, age 4

Columbus, Georgia (2002)

All I know is I didn't want to dance with that boy. I pouted the entire time, because no one would let me dance with my best friend Sydney. 14 years later, and I would still rather dance with a pretty girl. Gay as hell now, gay as hell then.

But, growing up I wasn't always so happy to accept that. I struggled with internalized hatred and disgust for a long time. And when I finally had found the self acceptance and love to come out to my family and my friends, they said:

"Why didn't you tell us sooner? Why did you lie to us?"

And, yes, I have extremely accepting and loving people in my life, and they deserved to know. But I was frustrated that no one could understand that I was not afraid of them, but of myself - and of all the people out there who do not share their open minds. 

And above all, my coming out was not about them.

It was not something they had the right to feel angry with me for.

I think it is hard for family members to grasp what it is like to grow up knowing you are different in a way that many do not accept. And not in a "I like weird clothes or weird music and they make fun of me" kinda way, but in a "I love who I love and some people would kill me for that" kinda way. And they'll try, but they may never understand what it is that drives so many of us to hide who we are, and even pretend to be who we are not. 

That doesn't make them any less loving or caring or accepting, it just makes them human. They have no way of knowing what it is like, they can't read our thoughts. They can't relive our experiences or feel our hearts sink every time something hateful is spit at us. They can't imagine what it is like to be afraid to hold the hand of the person they love while they walk on the sidewalk. But they are trying -- always, always trying to empathize and learn and change.

I am so grateful to have people who love me and are willing to try and to change. And to now be able to say that I love myself too. 

I just want anyone out there that's having a hard time finding self-acceptance to know that so many others have felt that pain too. You are beautiful, and there is nothing wrong with you, nothing you should try to change or hide. 

When you learn to love yourself, you get to be proud, and be a part of a community of amazing people. You get to laugh and smile and love wholeheartedly without feeling like you are wrong. 

And I wouldn't trade such a colorful, diverse, and happy life for anything. 

Let yourself in so you can let others in.

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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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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
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Hartson

Hartson, age 10

Paducah, Kentucky (1976)

I think this photo of me just about sums it ALL up!!! ;)

I always liked being an entertainer, and in 1976 I also learned to play the flute. 

Later during Middle & High school years while in the marching band and playing in parades, my "friends" would yell out, "Play that skin flute!" 

Something tells me they knew I did. And very well!

Growing up in a mid-sized city had its drawbacks, but I think it made me into a great person. 

Now at age 49, I look back and remember all the fun stuff, not the crappy stuff. 

So that's my advice to LGBTQ kids reading my story today: 

Just enjoy life!!!

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Andrew

Andrew, age 3
Weston-Super-Mare, Somerset UK (1988)

The picture shows me a little disheveled looking. I don't think I look much different these days, though my little brother here has changed a lot! I suppose the earliest sign that I was gay was that out of the four sons she had, my mother always described me saying, "He was never any trouble at all." 

I was a very gentle, sensitive child. Unlike my little brother, who was an absolute nightmare who never stopped screaming and crying!

I knew I was gay from the get-go, and it sometimes caused me embarrassment. Like entering a flower arranging competition at school, simply because I wanted to arrange flowers. 

Why? Because I loved flowers!

And I didn't think anyone would notice I was the only boy to enter a flower arranging competition. 

Unfortunately, for me, I won! 

I had to accept a prize in front of the whole school. And because I was a boy, 
I think some bitter parents bypassed the early signs I was gay. I think they assumed my mother had created the arrangement, and I was simply cheating. 

Ironically, my dad had picked the flowers, but it was all arranged by myself. 

The obvious "gay" behaviors I exhibited were never discouraged by my family.
At my grade school, I was friends with everyone in my class, and we all loved each other. So I never felt that I should be deeply worried about being different. Although, I was definitely aware of it. 

It wasn't until Jr. High when things changed and I realized my gayness was something to not draw attention to, despite it targeting me for daily insults. 

Today I can say I know that things do get better as you get older. And now I hope sometimes to bump into old bullies from school and not be scared of being gay. 

It's such a liberation, not being embarrassed or ashamed anymore. 

And I still love flowers!

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Shaun

Shaun, age 12

Buffalo Grove, Illinois (1991)

Growing up one of my favorite places was the Richard Simmons workout studio. Tucked away in a strip mall in our suburb between a Chinese restaurant and a Baskin Robbins, it was aptly called, “Slimmons.” My mom would take me with her after work, but I didn’t join the other kids in the play area. I’d sit in the back and watch the overweight women flapping their arms in the air as they sweated to the oldies. I memorized the routines, so sometimes I’d join in the fun. After class, we’d pick up Chinese take out and a pint of Rocky Road for dinner.

One evening, I had to use the bathroom. On the bathroom wall was a large poster of Richard Simons dressed in his iconic red striped shorts and rhinestone studded tank top. 

I loved and hated Richard Simmons at the same time.

I appreciated him for his flamboyant exuberance, but I was also embarrassed by it.

I sat down on the toilet and grabbed the magazine on top of the stack – Muscle and Fitness.
I thumbed through the pages looking at pictures of scantily clad, bronzed men and women. 

But when I reached the centerfold, I was paralyzed.  

The left side of the page was a woman in a gold bikini flexing her biceps. Meh! On the right was a man in a royal blue Speedo holding a bar bell over his head. 

My eyes raced over the picture of the woman, without so much as a glance, and landed in the center of the right page - directly on the man's Speedo bulge. I felt a spark, a tingle, a jump. This caught me off guard and I quickly looked up.  

My eyes landed on Richard Simmons' photo again - and he glared at me like he knew my dirty little secret. So I shifted my gaze back to the magazine first to the left side, at the woman. Again, I felt nothing. I then looked back to the right, at the man - and I sure felt something.  

"No,” I thought, “this can’t be right...”
I repeated the steps several times:

Richard, Woman, Man - Richard, Woman, Man.

And it was at that moment - as I took a dump at Slimmons, with Richard glaring at me - that confirmed what I had been trying to suppress for years: 

I was definitely gay!

Editor's note: you might remember Shaun from THIS brilliance! :)


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Ray

Ray, age 11
Villa Park, Illinois (1970)

I was about age 11 in this photo of me and my siblings on vacation. It's hard to believe, but there is three years between me and my older sister on the right. And the rest of us are only one year apart!

As for me, I grew up very fast. And I always knew I was gay. But looking back at this pic, I don't understand how it was a shock to my parents when I came out.

My siblings knew I was gay right from the start. When I told my parents, they were very accepting to me and my friends. All in all, life was good. 

That was so long ago, that in this day and age, it just breaks my heart how some parents can just toss their kids out of their lives for being gay. 

We've come such a long way, but we still have a long way to go. 

Today, I'm 56 years old and living a wonderful life in fabulous Las Vegas. 

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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
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Erica

Erica, age 3

Bedford, Texas (1999)

I'm too queer to be straight, yet too straight to be queer. 

I grew up as a huge tomboy, always wanting to play with Legos and GI Joe dolls, but my parents insisted I have a bunch of "girly" toys instead.

I was always jealous of my younger brothers, who were both really into cars, Legos and Nerf guns. I was very unlike my younger sister, who adored frills, pink, and wearing makeup. Thus my mother always complained I wasn't feminine enough.

I always played "doctor" with the neighborhood girls, having my head against their chest.  

The one who got away, was this beautiful girl named Alyssa. 
We were both really into each other, and I wanted her to be my girlfriend. 

Eventually, I stopped talking to her, as she had gotten back with her boyfriend. It wasn't until years later she told me she had a huge crush on me, too. 

Frustrating.

I haven't came out as bisexual to my family yet as they are homophobic. I hear the words "It's just a phase!" or "Are you sure you're not just gay?" all the time.

Nope, I'm not "just gay," as I am crazy in love with my loving boyfriend, 
who just sees me as a wonderful person. No labels needed!

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Anthony

Anthony, age 1

Panama City, Florida (1994)

During my teenage years, I wasn't popular. I didn't have a supportive family and I didn't have many friends. And growing up with the hidden identity of being an LGBT kid was rough, especially once I tried to start dating.

As I was rejected by everyone around me, I quickly got attached to guys who showed me any kind of attention. Yet I felt alone in the world, as if no one understood what it was I was going through.

After a little bit of growing up, I finally met a guy who was different.

He was so sweet, caring, and genuine.

I didn't know what to expect, especially being so used to heartbreak and pain. 

But he changed that within me. He taught me how to love and be loved.

He showed me what it was like to be free in my body. And then he PROPOSED! 

We have been happily married 3 years now.

My advice for any other LGBT kids who were/are in my kind of situation, I just need you to know things will get better! Life can be very tough and strange, but there's happiness waiting for you.

Keep your beautiful heads up, hang on to your strength and show the world who and what you are: FREE! 

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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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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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Dennis

Dennis, age 6

Portland, Oregon (1978)

"Once upon a time, there was one little boy who went to a car show..."
Specifically, it was the "World Of Wheels"1978 car show, and I'd spent weeks begging my parents to take me to the show!

My dad was thrilled, as I'm sure he believed that his son had actually developed an interest in cars. The same son who played with dolls, whose favorite comic books were "Supergirl" and "Wonder Woman" and who insisted on getting a "Dorothy Hamill haircut."

You can see the compromise we ended up with in the picture.  

Of course, my dad had no idea that the REAL reason I wanted to go was that Laurette Spang from "Battlestar Galactica" was going to be there. And there she is with me in my photo! 

She was one of my favorite people on the show. 
Of course, I had no idea her character was a professional escort.

I didn't know what being "gay" meant before 1978, because I'd never been told the term by my parents. I knew I was "different" from the other guys because whenever I (regretfully) found myself grouped with the boys, I was so bored by the things they loved: sports, cars, sports, trucks, sports, boats, sports. Yawn. Whenever I had the chance, I preferred socializing with girls, who were SO much more intellectual and interesting.

However, in 1978 an older neighbor guy moved in next door and I developed a massive crush on him, to the point where I was actually writing out his name in a notebook over and over like you see in bad TV movies. I never acted on my dreamy-eyed crush, but I was dimly aware somewhere in my brain that things would be bad if ANYONE found out about my feelings - including him.

I never  suffered any real abuse for being gay in my early life because I was always "the weird kid" who was viewed as super-intelligent with odd interests, like obscure horror movies and sci-fi shows from other countries.  

That all changed in high school, though. In my first year, my parents sent me to a private, religious all-boys' school and it was a living hell every single day. I was miserable, and I barely attended classes because I always felt sick and scared.  

I was failing all my classes and there were even days where the priest-teachers would spend hours explaining to us all why people like ME were awful monsters. They even instructed the other students to identify suspected gay kids for treatment and counseling because such a "gross" life needed to be "corrected."

Fortunately, I got myself into a public school, then a good liberal college where I could express myself and be who I really was. And I haven't looked back since.

Coming out was a weird sort of non-event. I had attended a Gay Pride parade during college and my folks saw me on TV. They asked me why I was there and I confirmed it. Then they simply ignored it, and acted as though it didn't happen. To this day, they talk to me like I'm straight, so I've simply decided I'm not going to make myself suffer for their denial of reality.

Today, I work in an excellent government job with a very tolerant environment where differences are encouraged. I have a terrific life and think of myself as being truly lucky to have gotten where I am today. Without those early experiences, I wouldn't be where I am now.  

My message to gay youth today is:

No matter how painful an experience is, remember it's your decision every time how you react to it. EVERY decision you make helps turn you into who you will be in the future. I turned out great despite all the adversity and I enjoy a great life of success now.  

So, please, PLEASE turn your agonies into strengths, and your sorrows into the foundation of your character in handling tough times.

And when all else fails, find joy in just being fabulous!

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Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
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Greg

Greg, age 3

Klerksdorp, South Africa (1991)

This photo was taken over Christmas at my grandparent's house. Not happy with my own presents, I had seized my cousin's rainbow umbrella and started performing "Singing In The Rain," from one of my favorite movies as a kid.

I grew up in a wonderfully accepting, progressive home, and my parents have almost always been fantastically supportive of who I am. But bullying at school was a daily reality for me growing up, and there were many times when I ended up in tears. 

I came out in college and it was without a doubt one of the most liberating experiences of my life. Yes, it caused some pain at first, but that faded.

The freedom I felt did not.

Unfortunately, I did grow up in a culture that is possibly still globally synonymous with racism and intolerance.

The prevailing opinion in my community was it's better to date a white man rather than a black woman. Either way, there's not much acceptance going on.

But ultimately, I’m grateful for these struggles. They forced me to become a better person, more tolerant, and understanding of people different from me.

I have learned that being different is the most fantastic gift. It makes you more confident in who you are, as there is just nowhere for you to hide, anyway.

But, it took me years to relearn what I already knew when I was age 3:

If you want to dance around with a rainbow umbrella, GO FOR IT!
People might laugh with you or at you. Either way, laughter is always good!

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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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Adam

Adam, age 2

Fayetteville, North Carolina (1987)

I was always known as  the "Miracle Baby" in my family, as my folks were in their 40's and in poor health when I showed up. I was brought up in a very strict, Pentecostal Christian household where sin and anything pertaining to the world were forbidden. Like most only children, I was somewhat spoiled with attention.

My photo was taken on Christmas Day, 1987. That year, I got a red Radio Flyer wagon, clothes, a Sit 'n' Spin toy and several little trinkets. But my most prized gift was the My Buddy doll I had begged my parents for. I'm sure that they weren't thrilled to buy me a doll, but since the little boy in the TV commercial had one, they relented. 

You can see just how surprised I was, pointing at the gifts and saying: 'For me?' 

I always loved playing with dolls and I had a huge collection of My Little Pony dolls. I can remember the embarrassment on my dad's face (RIP Dad) as I ran down the "girl's toys" aisle and picked out a new pony. 

I've known that I was different from the time I was three or four years old. I had what I guess you'd call a crush on my youngest uncle. He was handsome and would spend time with me, so I thought he was the greatest guy in the world.  

I developed several crushes throughout my elementary school days. Even so, I would always tell people that I had a "girlfriend" (usually just a close female friend), because that was the normal thing to do.  

I was around seven years old when I first heard my parents and the members of my church talking about "those queers" and "them homosexuals." When I finally did understand what these words meant, I was extremely afraid and ashamed.  

My two biggest fears were: going to Hell and disappointing my parents. Yet, I couldn't help the way I felt. No matter how hard I tried or how much I prayed, my feelings for guys remained the same.  

When was ten, I made the mistake of telling my mother that I wanted to be a girl. I wasn't transgender, but I thought the only way I could have a boyfriend was to become a girl. My mother had a fit and told me that God would send me straight to Hell if I kept thinking that way. I think that was when I first began keeping my feelings to myself.  

All through my high school years, I had devastating crushes on guys and hid behind my religion. The reason I didn't have a girlfriend wasn't because I was gay. In my mind, I was just saving myself for the right girl. Then the day came (after college) when I couldn't lie to myself anymore.  

Today, I'm out to some close friends. My family is intensely homophobic, so I keep my personal life to myself. I did attempt to come out to my mother, but she threatened to out me to everyone and ban me from her life. That was, by far, the hardest thing I've been through to date. And I even considered suicide. 

I couldn't imagine a world in which I could truly be happy in my own way. 

But I persevered and I am thriving the more I learn to love and accept myself.

I still have a long way to go, but I have amazing friends who love me and a partner who makes me feel like I'm the only man in the world.

For today's LGBTQ kids, I would say this: Hold on!

And think for yourself. Don't allow the ignorance or religious fervor of others keep you from being truly happy. Our world is changing and our time is coming.

I may not know you, but I send my love to you.  

Just keep holding on to your truth and I promise 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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Tim

Tim, age 5
Vancouver, BC, Canada (1995)

Here I am with my late grandmother at my kindergarten graduation. She was one of my biggest supporters for my musical accomplishments. I knew from a young age that I was different, but wasn't able to understand what that meant.

I was raised in a literalist, fundamentalist, Christian family that has never accepted an "alternative lifestyle" outside of Christianity.

So you can only imagine what growing up in a family that refers to homosexuals as ‘fags’ or ‘poofters’ was like.

I always wanted to be close with a guy, to feel a special bond between the two of us. 

I guess you could also say I'm not society’s portrayal of the stereotypical masculine man. 

I do not like movies with huge explosions, aliens, and guns. I like musicals, chick flicks, rom-coms, and movies that actually have a storyline.

I listen to Elton John, Barbra Streisand, and Whitney Houston almost daily.
I remember going through a huge Celine Dion phase in middle school and singing "The Power of Love" at the top of my lungs at home. My family did not like the fact that I would sing "...And you are my man!" with such conviction.

At age 19 I came out to my friends and co-workers who were very supportive. But when my family found out about my “sinful lifestyle" in 2013, it was off to Bible school for me and borderline reparative therapy. I have had deliverance performed on me, been sent to Exodus International, told to act more manly, and that if I just think I'm straight that I will be straight. 

Of course, none of that worked. My parents also demanded that I break up with my boyfriend so they could send me to more reparative, conversion therapy. 

After a month of refusing, I was thrown out of the house.

I was blamed for "bringing demons into the house," and my family said they would never come visit me at my new place because they “cannot walk on unholy ground.” That was two years ago and I have not seen my family since. 

The good news is I am still with my boyfriend and we’ve been together for three years. We could not be happier together and will be traveling to Europe soon.
I plan to marry my boyfriend one day and start a family with him. 

I have not seen my family since they threw me out, nor do I think I will be seeing them any time soon. People tell me to not lose hope, but I have to face the reality of a future without them. My friends have become my family and I have never felt so loved and accepted in my entire life. 

While my situation is not ideal, I wouldn’t trade places with 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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