Frank

Frank, age 6

El Paso, TX (1990)

I grew up in a Christian home. My mother always gave us the best of the best,
at least to me, and she always worked hard to make sure we didn't lack anything. I'm the youngest of 7 kids, and there's 7 years between my next older sibling.
So that's probably why I was a bit spoiled.

At age 8, I got involved with the Royal Rangers, the church version of the Boy Scouts.

It was there I realized that I was different, but my feelings were confirmed later that year at a summer camp. 

One night I had my first encounter when I was kissed on the lips by my tent partner. He was a boy who, in my opinion, acted quite girly.

For years I prayed to be rid of the feelings I had, but my prayers were never answered. Therefore I viewed it as just being born this way.



A weekend visit to my mother's house from college was the time that I came out to her. Scared that she would react otherwise, she said, "I always knew you were different. But regardless, you'll always be my little boy." To hear that has given me great courage in life.

I was later in my first relationship, which was extremely abusive. But 4 years later and 1100 miles from home, I decided I didn't want to be beaten anymore.
So I ended the relationship.

Two years later, I found a wonderful guy who I'm now married to, and I couldn’t be happier. Funny to mention, but many people tell me that if I didn't tell them I was gay, they wouldn't have figured it out.

One thing that I would like to tell any young person out there:

Live for today, and don't worry about tomorrow.
When you start regretting your past, then that's when you stop living.

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Kris

Kris, age 8

Farmington, NY (1980)

Picture it: It's 1980, and I'm 8. The hip was cocked, torso slightly turned, hands out, and streamers attached. The boy was ready to show the world his baton!!!

A lot of water has crossed under the bridge. A lot of baggage has been carried. And as I near the age of 40, I'm finally starting to feel some relief.

Success is not measured by what you posses, but rather by what you have thrown away as no longer needed.

I look at this pic and see so much innocence, just being me.

I reflect on all the years after this picture was taken, and can say it wasn't long after that the innocence was stripped away. 


Other boys were normal. Other families were happy. But I was tossed aside. Where is that smiling baton boy?

Today, I have a choice. A choice to say that they can't hurt me anymore.
Today, I'm free! Today, I smile again.

For the youth of today and tomorrow:
Hold on tight and NEVER let go. Never forget that you will smile again, too.

Alex

Alex, age 4

Ames, IA (1976)

That's me in the green footie pajamas, kissing another boy.

I've always loved this photo, and I refer to it as "mom's first clue".

I have a very clear memory of being a young child and telling someone:

"God made a mistake.
I should have been born a girl."

What makes a child say something like that?


I guess it's that I've always known there was something different about me,
and those were the only words I had to express it at the time.

I was a bit of a troublemaker as a teen, always getting into trouble. I once read a quote from a gay writer (I can't remember his name, sadly) that perfectly summed up my teen years.

He said that until he accepted his difference on the inside, he wore it on the outside. And that was me to a T. I fought that difference, literally, always running from the truth in the mirror.

And then - I found the theatre. Acting. Directing. Writing plays. The ways that it saved me can't begin to be counted. It gave me a space to be me, without fear. Rather ironic, given that I was constantly being anyone BUT myself on stage.

I had a single mom that figured me out early in my teens, and fished around for it until I told her when I was 21. It wasn't until I saw how hard others had it, that
I TRULY appreciated how valuable that unconditional love really was.

I only wish I hadn't spent so much time afraid to admit to myself who I was.
I certainly had no reason to be afraid. At least not with my mom.

For those of you with perhaps less supportive parents or family? Hang on!
There's a whole world out there ready to love you. And YOU get the power one day to define who and what your family is, and who belongs in it.

It's pretty awesome. Honest.

Today, I'm legally married to my husband and we're looking into adoption.
I could never have pictured this future, as that confused teenager.

So please hang on to see where your story goes. I bet it will be amazing.
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Steve

Steve, age 3

Rochester, NY (1957)

I don't remember this Halloween at all, and can't imagine why my mother would put me in my sister's dress like that. But it was some foreshadowing, for sure.

I think I knew I had feelings for men around age 8. I liked my male teachers much better than the women. Not having a father figure made me look elsewhere for that male companionship.

At 12, I felt much more mature than other guys my age. I had major crushes on all cute boys, and many of the pop culture icons of the day.



The only movie images of gay men in the late 60's and early 70's were either evil villains who had to be killed, or swishing effeminate guys who were jokes. So I hid out, deep in the closet. From around age 13 to 16, I knew for certain I was different, and dreaded being gay and outed.

I only dared to have sex very discreetly, while keeping up the image of an All-American, straight jock. It wasn't till college that I really explored gay life in NYC, which then meant horrid gay-theater encounters and other closeted men.

I moved to San Francisco in 1978, and that finally allowed me to re-invent myself as a gay man. Since then I've blossomed into the person I wanted to be.

Gay youth today have it infinitely better than my generation did.
And they should take every advantage of the groundwork we laid for them.

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

Bobby Sherman (singer/actor)

Henry & Rocky

Henry, age 5

Rocky, age 4

Santa Ana, California (1973)

I'm Henry on the right, with my brother Rocky on the left. Growing up searching for a sense of self is hard to do. My parents, especially my mother, made it virtually impossible for me to be comfortable with coming out at 17.
Our household told us that being gay was a sickness, and that we were defective.

I suffered at the hands of shrinks, priests, and my mother's tactics trying to "change" me. The one person who made this truly bearable was my little brother, Rocky. He is also gay. And he always supported me with no judgments.

Growing up, I knew Rocky was gay before I knew I was. He once performed "I'm Every Woman" by Chaka Khan in my mother's platforms, to cheer me up once when I was really down. Our mom caught us, but I remember him really looking up to me, trying in earnest to seek my approval.

We were different as boys. Rocky liked perfume, make-up, and glamor, and I liked sweaty men, rock music, and leather. We still like the same things now.
He was a Goth and I was an awkward punk, just trying to fit in.

We once got into a fist fight as teenagers when I slept with Chris, a boy he had a major crush on. He was Rocky's sleepover guest, but he'd made his way into my bed. My brother screamed at me, "I hate you, you f*cking whore!" as he wept.

That very moment, my dad asked my mom just what we were talking about.
Of course, we couldn't tell them what was really going on. Rocky didn't speak to me for 2 weeks, and I felt like crap - but he eventually forgave me.

Rocky's support made me stronger to come out and accept myself. Doing so made him more comfortable with who he is, too. There's been love, laughter, and tears. But thankfully, I had my brother with me the whole time growing up.

So I need to say:
I love you, Rocky.

I know I don't say it a lot, but this is the best way for me to show it. You have been my rock in many ways. We bonded with a united front, and our parents eventually came to accept us as well.

I now live in London with Bren, my partner of 9 years, and our dog Jolene. We also run a successful tattoo shop in the city. Looking back at this photo, it's a reminder of how much my brother Rocky really means to me.

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

Sean Connery (in "Time Bandits")

Oh, that red toga and his crotch! Poppa's got a brand new bag!

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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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Silas

Silas, age 3

Reedley, CA (1992)

Religious holidays were particularly huge gatherings for us. Easter was all about getting dressed up for my Southern Baptist family. This Easter, I was fashionable as always in a full body jumpsuit and cherry lip balm - because those smackers aren't naturally that red. And my sisters, Lacey and Michelle, wear ensembles sewn by our Aunt Julie. I love the food, bonding, and hugs that surround holidays, as they remind me of all the love there is on this planet and in Heaven.

As a kid, I had a billion Beanie Babies and watched "Family Matters" every day after school. On Saturday mornings, I'd sing along with the "Pokemon Song" ("Gotta catch ‘em all!")

I first felt different in kindergarten. My best friend and I were early "boyfriends." We would hold hands and kiss on the bus everyday after school.

When he told his parents that he loved me, they gave him the sex talk.

They told him being gay was a sin. That message was repeated to me.

As a result, for years I thought that women had "china" - not "vaginas" - up their skirts, and I refused to eat off porcelain.


Growing up gay in a Christian household can be rough. I have struggled to reconcile my faith and sexual orientation, and coming out was hard. But my family still loves me, and I know that if I meet a guy worthy of bringing home someday, we will rough through that together too.

Struggles are something everyone has; Christ, my friends, and my family help me deal with mine. I am a Gay Christian, and I was made this way.

Silas' first, famous-person same sex crush:

Prince Eric (from "The Little Mermaid")

Honestly, he was the sexiest cartoon character I'd ever seen.

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