Bastian

Bastian, age 3

Swanton, Vermont (1985)

Just look at this kid! Blue feetie pajamas, a mop-top haircut straight outta the mid-80s, playing with blocks in a very earth-toned living room. A kid looking up at dad with his ever-present camera, capturing every moment of his eldest child's life as it happened. That's the advantage of having a photographer for a father: really nice angles and flattering photos. And I really like this one; it really captures that innocent, boyish charm when I was just a wee one.

I look a lot more comfortable in this picture than the ones where I'm wearing pink nightgowns, considering I'm not a girl.

Well, not that they knew that at the time, of course.

I'm grateful that for much of my childhood, my toys and clothing were rather unisex and not overly girly.

Oh sure, I owned a few Barbies in my time, but they generally ended up headless or tossed down the stairs, as I'd laugh endlessly at the weird and painful-looking poses they ended up in.

However, my parents mostly encouraged play that was more open-ended and prone to self-expression, like Play-Doh or art supplies.

There was always the vague, 'Go play outside' command, which led to all sorts of adventure and improvised shenanigans. Stick-swords, buckets of mud, trying to dig to China via the sandbox. No tea parties for me, thanks.

On the other hand: As a kid, unless it's really ingrained into you by parents, you don't really see other kids as "so-and-so the girl" or "what's-their-face the boy" - you just see a kid and another kid, or the one who smells kind of funny with the runny nose. Gender doesn't matter, and gender expression matters even less. You just do your kid thing, and nobody really gives a hoot.

In that vein, it wasn't until puberty when the gender segregation and the 'not-really-right feelings' surfaced, culminating in the start of my physical transition from female to male in 2005, at age 23.

Pretty much, everyone was remarkably fine when I came out as being transgender, and seeking to change my name, start hormone therapy, and get a mastectomy. My friend Becka summed up the general nonchalance the moment I came out to her. She grabbed her phone, and tapped away at the keypad.

'What are you doing?' I asked her.
'Changing your name in my phone directory. Duh', she replied.

My mother was extraordinarily supportive, as were my brothers. My youngest brother, a teenager then, took a sort of glee in showing me how to be a proper dude: how guys shake hands, how guys hug. That kind of thing.

The only one with major reservations was my father. I was daddy's girl - in his eyes. He was so proud of all I'd done in life, and then I went and did this and took his little girl away? At the time, it seemed like the end of the world, and that maybe he'd even give up on me, or wouldn't talk to me ever again, but...

Eventually, my dad came to realise that I'm still me, still there.
That I hadn't gone anywhere. And I wasn't daddy's "girl" to begin with.

Nowadays, it's no issue, and he seems just as pleased to have two sons as he was to have a son and a daughter. I also think he's jealous that I can grow a better beard than he can. Time does help, as does expressing the same love and patience as always.

All in all, I'm a pretty satisfied fella these days.
And, admit it: You don't see a little girl in that picture either, do you?

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

Billie Joe Armstrong (of Green Day)

Right around the 'Dookie' CD in '94.

And yes: Coincidentally, I'm also gay! Fancy that!
_______________________________________________________

Click here - "Born This Way: Real Stories of Growing Up Gay" book
Click here - "My First Gay Crush Blog"
Click to follow my blog with Bloglovin' Tweet

Mark

Mark, age 8

Attleboro, Massachusetts (1976)

This picture represents how it all became clear to me at an early age. At age 5 I begged my family to  let me take ballet classes. Nijinsky was flying around on PBS television, giving me a crystal-clear vision of what I wanted my life to be: soaring, gorgeous, moving always and only to a dramatic soundtrack… and clad in tights. The response: “Little boys don’t take ballet.”

Thus was the first sharp realization in my life of the dissonance between what was possible and fabulous in the larger world (male ballet stars) and the alien world I inhabited.

I bookmark this event as the revelation of my “difference”.

But at the same time I knew – thank you PBS!!! - that the universe was on my side.

I immediately adopted the strategy of sneaking through the insanity undercover, to get whatever I could from it. 


So I registered for tap-class, and took up the clarinet in order to round out an emulation of Gene Kelly. I proceeded to hound the teacher with choreography suggestions, for seven years.

Though ballet was over the line for my family, they nonetheless were extremely deferent to my faerie-child ways. Dolls, lipstick, dresses, showtunes, my obsessive impersonations of Paul Lynde and Charles Nelson-Riley -- even the behavioral extremity of my love at age 4 for my teenage cousin Kevin (poor thing!). I’m the youngest of 8 children, none of whom are stupid. I was protected. Blessed Be for that.

The Pink Panther was my first television boyfriend, and my romantic preference for Shaggy over Fred on “Scooby Doo” foreshadowed/established my lifelong frumpy-hippy-crazed heart. I also knew for a fact that “Batman’s” Robin (Burt Ward) was waiting for my hand in marriage as soon as we were old enough.

Isis and Wonder Woman perfectly encapsulated the powers and style I longed to embody. Frankly, they still do. Bring. On. The. Bracelets.

As adults we can give children permission to respect and adore their own and each other’s inner magical beings. I say “permission” because children already know that the magic of love reigns supreme. We need to take every possible opportunity to let them know that they’re right.
____________________________________________________

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

Click to follow my blog with Bloglovin' Tweet

Jay

Jay, age 5
South Bend, IN (1954)

I was a very imaginative kid. I enjoyed role playing, but was not a born thespian. It was the single image/pose that captured a moment/attitude that I employed - as shown here. In this photo, I think I was channeling Rita Hayworth and other glamor girls I'd seen in magazines. At that age, no one in my family minded my "dress up" or "pretending".

But, in high school, attitudes toward my "ambivalence" had changed, and my parents made me join the swim-team, and play football. Having endured those episodes with great pain (mostly psychological), I decided to start dating girls to escape the family "sports requirement."

And that worked quite well, freeing me of parental pressure, and I viewed it as a path to "normalcy" and acceptance.

This, in spite of the fact that I'd been sexually attracted to men since I was 9. And I remember those moments in the swim-team showers to this day!

Many years - and many heartaches - later, I separated from my wife of 10 years and "came out". Fortunately, she was very understanding, and aside from a few years of nearly unendurable self-guilt, there was no exterior punishment. It was something I got past - and thank God for my art!

I often wonder how much more open and comfortable my life would have been without these experiences. But, I also feel that my life experiences made me the artist I am today. And, the whole person who had a 26-year gay relationship (ending in his death), and now a new, 5-year-and-counting wonderful gay relationship.

Self acceptance can be a long hard path. But the earlier you start down that path, the more pleasant and rewarding your journey is likely to be.

Raffael

Raffael, age 6

Havana, Cuba (1965)

I was born and raised in Havana, and this picture was taken at a party in our home. Both of my parents migrated to Cuba from Italy, in a town in the south called Padula.

"Here's a gay boy!"

I was a very happy child, and I have a twin brother who is not gay. I knew from around age 6 that I was different, but didn't know what - if anything - to do about it.

In 1967 we moved to Mexico City. It was around this time I actually did anything for the first time, with another boy who was about 13 years old.

Keep in mind, this was back in 1968, and my parents where both very traditional.
My father was open-minded, and I knew this because my sister had a lesbian friend when she was 15, and my father was very close to her friend, since her parents had not been.

I, on the other hand, was too afraid to let him know. Later in life I told the whole planet, and here we are today.

My family is very close, supportive, and loving, and I've been truly fortunate that all my friends and relatives have accepted me, and have always loved me.

Today, I live in Los Angeles. I enjoy watching TV Land, especially old episodes of I Love Lucy, The Brady Bunch, and many more. I speak Italian and Spanish, and I work for one of the nation’s largest HIV/AIDS non-profit organizations.

Raffael's first, same sex crush:
My neighbor that lived next door. He was maybe 12 or 13, and I had

the biggest crush on him. Every time I saw him, I was all in a daze.

Jonathan

Jonathan, age 5
Jackson Heights, NYC (1989)

I don't remember this photo being taken, but I do know it was just before kindergarten. There's a lot of my childhood I don’t remember. Unfortunately, what I do remember is viewed very differently by my birth father, who in the subsequent years would badger me on why I couldn’t defend myself at school.
Or why I had so many girls as friends, my affinity for female pop-stars, or why
I had no interest in sports. The truth is: Homie always knew.

"Step...and repeat."

There's a stigma to being gay and Hispanic. For many of the adults around me, gay men and women play a secondary role to the lives they surround. The flamboyant ones are expected to entertain, susceptible to becoming the butt of the joke. While our humanity is talked about as little as possible.

It's only more recently that young gay Hispanics are able to see transcendent figures who are not only gay, but fulfilled.

I grew up resisting what I thought would be my fate, if I "admitted" to myself what I was. Even though I already was, always had been, and always would be - gay.

I became fully aware of my sexuality at age 13 - when kissing a girl only did it for me when I was thinking about a boy. I came out at age 17 - when I fell in love with my best friend. And I began to accept it at age 21 - when I realized enough was enough.

At 25, I found this photo again, and my first reaction was one of aversion.
I immediately saw a boy that would eventually get picked on, feel like he would never belong, and have to go the extra mile to come to terms with who he was born to be. So I simply put the photo away.

After turning 26, I rummaged for this photo to look at it one more time. Now, I see an incredibly intuitive boy, a boy who loved music videos, Michael Jackson, and penny loafers. A boy blessed with friends who would become family, and support me when coming out. And a resilient little boy who wouldn’t give himself the appropriate credit later on for being a survivor - but eventually would.

I'm realizing that by resisting my "fate" I created an inner turmoil I wish on no one. But, it prompted me to define what being gay was on my own terms, by being myself. Being gay isn’t about fulfilling any preconceived notions or fitting into a mold. It’s about loving yourself with the added bonus of falling in love with the world around you.

Me back then?
Boys behind me staring, with my head tilted, hands on hips, left-foot in front of the right-foot, goofy smile in place - while wearing neon pants.

And me now?
Christ, I can learn a lot from that little boy.

Jonathan's first, famous-person same sex crush:
Ricky Martin

You’re telling me you didn’t see that coming?

Eamonn

Eamonn, age 4

Brighton, Michigan (1991)

It was an epic Christmas morning, and I had just turned 4 a few months prior.
In 1989, the 50th Anniversary Edition "The Wizard of Oz" VHS came out, and I became obsessed with 1) being a friend of Dorothy and 2) actually becoming her.

"Dorothy & Toto with their loyal steeds!"

Still in my yellow dress shirt from a Christmas Eve party at my grandparents, I eagerly transformed myself into a hybrid of Judy Garland and Glinda the Good Witch.

Note the fabulous pink wand. And those ruby slippers stayed on my feet for at least a week!

I honestly recall that I've always had a preference for men. To me, girls always made such fabulous friends, that I couldn't conceive of being with them romantically!


As a little boy, I wanted to be every Disney princess, and had regular breakdowns over Leonardo DiCaprio after seeing "Romeo & Juliet" in 3rd grade. I was about that age when I first learned what "gay" meant.

By age 12, I decided that gay was the way I planned to live the rest of my life - and with someone tall, dark, strong, and handsome! Inspired by a trip to Toronto with my mother - where we unknowingly reserved a room at a bed & breakfast hotel in Gay Village - I came out to her on the train ride home.

Thanks to amazing parenting, I continued to dress flamboyantly, play with Barbies, and hold my torch for actors and boy bands. In a small town known for ousting businesses donning rainbow stickers, I certainly couldn't let my true identity be known. But I never attempted to conceal my personality in public.

Even at my small Catholic school I found warm acceptance and many allies among my loving teachers. Regrets? Not sticking with those ballet lessons long enough to be a mouse in "The Nutcracker"! I lived to wear to those pink tights.

Looking at this picture today gives me nothing but pride. I wish I could I meet this little boy, just so we could sit on the floor with those ponies and Barbies and make some magic again. He was a happy little Prince, full of wonder and love.

And even if things might have been worse, they would soon get much better.
Being who you are is one of the bravest and most rewarding experiences. So start immediately - as you can't imagine how much fun you'll have, until you do.

Eamonn's first, famous-person same sex crushes:

Disney's "Aladdin" & Leonardo DiCaprio

Also check out "My First Gay Crush Blog"
____________________________________________

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

Tweet