Jim

Jim, age 7

San Pablo, California (1971)

There was always something I loved about striking a pose that always felt glamorous. I always liked being presentable, and I was feeling so sporty in my sneakers, cuffed pants, and shiny windbreaker. I always felt different, but "gay" didn't resonate until I was about 10, when we moved to El Sobrante, CA.

Back then, the kids would ride their banana seat bikes,
or come to our house to swim. I was always drawn to hair on guys, especially longish straight hair.

My best friend had blondish-white hair, and our other friend had jet-black hair with Dippity Do pomade.

My friend Veronica had an older brother, who I met at 9.

Her brother was cool - and hot! - and I was smitten with his straight, shoulder length, dirty-brown hair. And he wore a PUKA SHELL necklace. Needless to say, I put a great amount of mileage on my bike riding past his house!

I didn't mind the boy stereotype of playing and getting dirty, but I much preferred listening to my Janis Joplin, Joni Mitchell, Doors, and Credence Clearwater Revival records with my best friend. Or climbing the evergreen tree in the back hill, to see San Francisco and feel the breeze in the hopes of hearing the news of gay liberation emanating from the streets.

From this age on, I discovered that what I had was a gift, and I learned the necessity to give it to those without it. Unfortunately, as in many Shakespearean themes, my good nature became manipulated by my brothers, who taught me the Machiavellian principles. Which meant "boys only" swim dates that opened my eyes to my peers, and the wonder and beauty of the male form.

This picture brings me joy and peace, and keeps me grounded in the belief that I'm still clearly that boy, and I give him a voice often. No shame then, no shame now. Luckily, it was ingrained in our upbringing to understand a person's content - and not their skin color, clothes, or hair, etc.

As someone who has worked in NYC with young gay kids for over 25 years, the only advice I can offer is to build that foundation of who and what you are. And gather the company of friends and family who can relish in - and openly celebrate - the other little Jim's this may be happening to everyday.

James' first, famous-person same sex crushes:

Donny Osmond & Barry Williams (Greg Brady, "The Brady Bunch")
___________________________________________________

Jakub

Jakub, age 11

Wielkopolska, Poland (1992)

I remember as a kid, that I was different in every way. I didn't care about playing football, fighting, cars, or other typical "boy" things etc.

Instead, I was obsessed with Madonna and dancing and singing. I discovered myself as gay around 11. I love this pic, because it reflects my mood at that time.

At school, I was both loved and hated. I was crazy about Madonna's "Erotica" album back then. Madonna was, and is still is, very important to me. She is like my 2nd mother.

I came out in 2003, 11 years after this pic. I was inspired to do it by my boyfriend, so I wrote about it in a letter to my mother. My boyfriend and I are still together, we have a great home, and a lot of love.

My message to all is:
Be yourself, no matter what they say. Express your love to the world every day!

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

Brad Pitt (in "Thelma & Louise")
___________________________________________________

Jason

Jason, age 11

Saint Paul, Minnesota (1984)

When I look at this picture, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Laugh for the young, spirited grade school kid that found tremendous joy in wearing his Granny’s wigs. Or, cry for the young kid who grew up with little joy in his spirit.

I always knew I was "different" but was never able to make the connection as to what that difference was. Everyone else apparently knew; I heard it in the halls, the schoolyard, and in the lunchroom.

From grade school on into high school,
it was the same four perjoratives: "girl," "sissy," "wuss" - and the dreaded "F" word. Eventually, that's what "different" meant to me.   

I always made promises to myself:
If I could just have more boys as friends, then I wouldn’t feel different. If I could just stop wearing Granny’s wigs, then I wouldn’t feel different. If I could just hold my breath underwater for 20 minutes, then I wouldn’t feel different.

But I didn’t, I wouldn’t, and I still can't. Yet somehow, sometimes even still to my amazement, I carried on, knowing that someday I'd redefine my "different."

And eventually, after finally coming out, I did. My adult life as a gay individual has been filled with awakenings and wonderment. Friendship and merriment. "Different" has now translated to "special" and "unique." "Different" now means "fascinating" and "exceptional." And my spirit is filled with joy beyond measure.
I can’t imagine my life any other way.

I wish I could go back, if only for a moment, and reach out to the young version of myself. To tell him things will turn out just fine. That his sadness will be replaced with blessings exceeding his wildest dreams. That "different" was just a nine letter word that set him apart from others. That the only thing "different" now - is the difference he’ll make in other people's lives.

And more importantly, that his wigs will eventually get much more fabulous.

My message to any youngster that feels "different" is simple:
You will survive. You will rise above. You will be fantastic.

And you will redefine your "different" too!
___________________________________________________

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

Tammy

Tammy, age 9

Jamestown, TN (1975)  

That's me, in the hawt red halter top, with my baby brother and older sister.

In retrospect, I knew I was a lesbian by the time I was age 4.

People who say gayness is a "choice" make me laugh and gag simultaneously.

I mean, my God.
Look at me at age 9!


This was also around the time that I jumped off a short flight of concrete steps at my church to impress Greta, a Bible-school classmate. Yes, I remember her name. How could I not? I survived. I doubt I changed Greta's heterosexual orientation. After all, she was BORN THAT WAY.

Today, I'm a sporty dyke, and happy and content with my orientation.
And I love your blog.

Robert

Robert, age 4

Brooksville, FL (1974)

The pic is from my cherished "memories" cabinet. It was my Kindergarten play and first costume ever in public. If you look close, you can see the real prunes my mother pinned onto the outfit. And notice the pink ricrac. The next year I was the King, for my big jump to 1st grade. And this is where my storytelling and theatrical career began! I LOVE this pic now, and actually gave framed copies, signed by "The Gingerbread Man" to my mom & two sisters in 2004!

"The Gingerbread Man"

A good friend shot this pic, whom also I ended up having theatrical adventures with, and who also had a best childhood friend who was gay!

She recently gave us tickets to see 9 To 5 and West Side Story, so take that, haters! Just because you come out, does not mean you will lose everything and everyone.

I was, and still am, energetic, overly creative, and smart. My folks started me in dance class to expel some energy.

I had no desire for sweaty sports, until I got much older. Much, much, older.

I have been gay since birth, though I didn't feel "different" until a supposed best friend turned on me in 7th grade. Then the hell began. I couldn't wait to get out of my small town, so I went to college far away.

It is hard to love your family and stay friends with folks from childhood, but really dislike the pervading pall that is the blessing/curse of an isolated small town. It's great in some ways, but certain cancers are never fully eradicated.
Still, until a best friend turned on me and made me his target, it was great.

Now, being an adult, I am out, proud, and quite open with my life. Although things naturally shift when your life doesn't revolve around alcohol and sex as much as it does in one's 20's (regardless of gender, identity, or orientation). And for anyone who comes out late, it simply means re-living being 16 again, with all of the pitfalls and inherent traps.

Which is why so many older gays that come out act so outlandish. The sudden freedom is so liberating, and the pent up sexual energy is finally released, so to speak. It does wreak some havoc in its wake. Luckily, mine played out in tandem with mostly normal development, and I've counseled more than my share of older, closeted gays about what is to come.

So remember, everyone:
It is not always self shame, but external shame thrust upon us, that causes us to feel different. No matter what age.

Let Love Lead.

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

Race Bannon ("Jonny Quest")

I still have a thing for platinum Daddies.
And I've ben happily partnered to one for nearly 7 years now...

___________________________________________________

Nora

Nora, age 2

Chicago, IL (1990)

First off, that ball should have said BUTCH on it. My parents raised me as the tomboy I wanted to be: Football with the boys, hockey instead of figure skating, and the nail in the coffin - softball instead of volleyball.

I guess there came a time in my parents lives where it 'stopped being cute' and was simply 'not what they wanted for their daughter.'

I am never bitter about the way I was treated during my adolescent stages, when I was becoming a young individual. But I must say, it did change me.

In the long run, it’s pictures like these that make me happy to be who I am.

No holding back. Proud



My message for queer peers and those in school today is:
Be who you are not whom everyone else wants you to be.

Your parents will get past their initial shock, bullies will have karma to deal with and you, you will be happy and enjoying life.

Be strong, be you, be proud!