Kevin

Kevin, age 5

San Francisco, California (1983)

I have so many childhood pictures that, without a doubt, foreshadowed my future life as a gay man. In this picture, you can see that I was a happy child, who perhaps already had an affinity for phallic symbols. In other pictures in my collection, you'd find that I often pretended that I was a high-end fashion model, with one hand placed perfectly on my hip.

As I look at these past photos, I can't help but wonder how my parents didn't know I was gay.

I always played with my girl cousins and with their Barbie dolls. I sang, danced, and acted in our community musical theater.

And I got excited when the boys from "The Dukes of Hazzard" or Uncle Jesse from "Full House" took their shirts off.

Growing up as a Filipino American, with two immigrant parents and a large Catholic family, I quickly learned that these behaviors were unacceptable.

And I was often teased by my older brothers and male cousins.

I'd also see the looks of disappointment and disapproval in my parents' faces, when they saw me with a doll in my hand, or sketching my dream wedding dress.

To add even more pressure, I was already being teased as an ethnic minority;
for the foods that I brought to school, for the funny ways I pronounced things,
or sometimes blatantly for the color of my skin or the shape of my eyes.

Somehow at a young age, I realized that I couldn't hide my race, but I could try to hide my sexual orientation. So for the next 10-15 years, I had to pretend to be something I wasn't, while repressing layers of guilt, shame, hurt, and sadness.

When I was in my early 20's, I made the best decision of my life, and I slowly began to come out of the closet to my friends, my family, and eventually my parents. While some people were surprised and distant at first, most of my loved ones were able to show me that they still loved me.

But more importantly: for the first time in my life, I learned to love myself.

To all of the gay kids out there who are struggling with their identities, know that you're not the only one. We may not know exactly what you're going through in school right now, so we can't guarantee that "it will get better" right away.

But, I do hope seeing role models who got through it all at least gives you some hope that life is worth living. And, that you are amazing just the way you are.

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

Ralph Macchio

My crushes were pretty diverse. I first loved Michael Jackson & Prince, then the list includes Kirk Cameron, Zack Morris ('Saved By The Bell'), & Rufio in 'Hook'
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Dita

Dita, age 2

Buena Park, California (1979)

Even at around age 2, I was pretty gay. This photo from Knot's Berry Farm is one in a series where I was sitting with different statues. In all the other pics, I'm not smiling. But as soon as I was sitting with the ladies? SAY CHEESE! Notice my hand on the lady's arm on the right. Early onset moves.

"I call this picture my 'root' "

I always knew I liked girls. A lot. I didn't understand what this meant until I was in my teens, but I always understood I was very different from my boy-crazy friends. Growing up 'playing house', my female friends always wanted me to play the 'dad' and practice kissing them, which I never had a problem with.

Coming out for me was a horrible experience. I was about 14 when I was outed by our family doctor. I spent some time in a mental-health facility, and was eventually kicked out of my home. After that, I had limited to no contact with my family for over 16 years.

Through my rough childhood and difficult teen years, the one person who was always there for me was Madonna. Her music touched me, and I lived for her interviews on MTV. She is smart, strong, and most importantly to me at the time - she is open, understanding, and full of love for the gay community. She made me feel like even if I was different, I wasn't alone or ugly for who I was.

To you young gays now: Being gay can be scary, especially when it comes to dealing with your family. You can feel alone and isolated, and if your family is anything like mine, you can feel afraid.

Please know that you can make it through. There are people out there who will love you for who you are. And support you, even if they are not your biological family. You can build your own support system, and possibly with time, those who have walked away from you will once again rejoin your life.

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

Kellie Martin (in "Troop Beverly Hills" & "Life Goes On")
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Mike

Mike, age 2
Jacksonville, Florida (1949)

"Honey, get your hands off your hips.
That's how I got started."

I was a pretty happy kid, and always very artistic. I got the colored chalk in 1st grade and would draw holiday pictures.

I won the Jacksonville baby contest a little while before this was shot, so I guess I made my debut back then - complete with a little gold cardboard crown (my first tiara).

I didn't even figure out I was gay until my 20's, but I always knew I was different. I hated sports, and I loved outer-space shows and cowboy shows on TV.

Today I'm a full-time painter of the Southwest, and my work is shown in the Booth Museum.

There's something about butch men in boots really does it for me. And maybe something about Indians tying them up, too.

I love this picture, now that I love myself as a gay adult.

To young gay kids: Those other kids giving you a hard time now will soon fade into your memory. Don't let them define you, and whatever you do - try not to live in anger. That hurts you more than it hurts them. And it means they won.

I've been very comfortably out for decades now and wouldn't have it any other way. The straight folks that really count in your life, really don't care.

Be proud and make a great example.
That's what will change peoples' minds about gay people.

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

Tommy Kirk (in Disney's "Hardy Boys")
He turned out to be gay too. I guess I had Gaydar even back in the 50's...
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Wanderson

Wanderson, age 6

São Paulo, Brazil (1983)

If you are a gay teenager, you might have thought about ending your own life.
I know I did. I was raised believing that being gay was wrong and that getting married, having kids, and forming a family was the only thing in store for me.

I used to pray before going to bed and ask the Lord to please make me straight, as if it was as that simple. I saw myself as a pervert, and I didn’t realize that my desire for boys was beginning to show.

My dad used to yell at me to talk like a man. I tried really hard but couldn't do it, and as I was just a child, why should I sound like an adult?

As a teenager, it got worse since as my friends started dating, and I was sure that I'd meet the right girl, and she would make me straight. Of course, that never happened and I started feeling depressed all the time.

All I wanted to do was die so the pain would stop.

And then I fell in love with my best friend. I was dating - or trying to date - a girl at the time, but my friend was all I could think of. I can't describe the confusion and pain I went through, and being only 16, couldn't even think about coming out or accepting what I was.

Years passed, and when I turned 23,
I decided it was time to have a conversation with me, myself and I.

And it was a different Wanderson that heard me say: 'I’m gay!' I smiled and he smiled back, and then all was much lighter and free. After that I started coming out to my friends, and every time I did, I felt better and better.

At home, everything was basically bad. And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, someone told my mother about me. That drove her away from me, as she was incapable of handling a gay son. My sister found some love letters I'd sent to a man, and she didn’t handle it well either. I decided to tell my brother who was a teenager, and he was the only one who really tried to understand me.

After that I came to know a world that I never knew existed. I had new friends that were fine with my sexuality, and I finally found a man that showed me what it meant to be in a gay relationship. It didn’t last long, but it made me grow up and helped prepare me for who is now the love of my life - Alexandre.

He taught me about pride and not being afraid of who you are. Today, my mom sees me with new eyes, as someone who's also formed a family. And my sister and brother are closer to me than ever before. It wasn’t easy, but it was definitely worth it.

Today, I'm 34 and I do not wish or want to be anything but GAY! Through everything I've built, the friends I have and ones I've lost, and all the obstacles I've moved out of my way, it made me a better man.

Thus, I must tell you: it gets better! MUCH BETTER!!!

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

Richard Chamberlain (in "The Thorn Birds")

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