Karli

Karli, age 4
Courtice, Ontario, Canada (2001)

Growing up, I was always a tomboy of sorts. I preferred to play with boys as a kid, I always wanted the "boy toy" from McDonalds, and I always preferred movies where the lead female was the hero rather than being a helpless princess.

You can even see the difference in these pictures: the extremely fake smile that I had while dressed as a princess, compared to the one I was dressed as a cowgirl, taken either moments before or after.

In Canada, our junior kindergarten school pictures were done in costume to be "fun" for young kids. I remember that day very specifically, because I wanted to dress as the knight, having picked that from the table of costumes.

But I was told I wasn't allowed to because it was one of the "boy costumes," and they made me wear the princess one. I was much happier with the cowgirl outfit, especially since "Toy Story 2" was one of my favorite movies.

This was probably the first time I felt that society was telling me I couldn't be who I wanted to be.

Thankfully, my parents didn't care how I dressed or what toys I wanted to play with when I was younger, proven to me more when I was 5 and I dressed as Spider-Man for Halloween.

Luckily, my generation is growing up in a time where gender non-conformity is not that big a deal. When I eventually came out, my parents weren't too shocked and they accepted me wholeheartedly.

I always find it funny to look back at these two pictures because it's very obvious which costume I was more comfortable in.
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John

John, age 7
Pierre Part, Louisiana (1996)

I grew up in a small bayou town.
My mom was a single mother who loved dressing up and going out.

I almost always copied her style in the male form and I loved having grown up with confidence taught.

But that didn't last long.

In the world, and even inside our own gay community, people are picked apart.

And now I find myself grasping to find some self-confidence.

I think the most important message I want to send out is to always keep that confidence.

And I don't mean fake confidence.

Someone will love every part of you, so what I'm trying to say is:

Own all that you are!

I hate the whole masculine/feminine label, because I am personally the "/" symbol in that equation.

Remember that no matter who you are, you are a snowflake and you are unique and deserve to be a part of this world. You deserve to breathe and conquer!
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Nathan

Nathan, age 12
Springfield, Missouri (1994)

I remember when I was younger being bullied and teased. I felt differently than other boys at around the age of 6 or so. And I started to get bullied when I was finishing up my elementary years in the 5th grade.

I came out to a group of my closest friends at age 9.

And during middle school, I would get pushed into lockers and walls.

I did not always have a support system. But when I finally formed one with my friends and teachers, I was much happier and I saw less harassment and bullying.

My advice to all the young and new generation of LGBT youth is:
Keep your head up. Other people have the same, if not worse, things going on.

What makes me most proud now is being openly gay and being accepted by my neighbors and friends.

Today, I'm still am single at the age of 23.
But for now, I will concentrate on work and furthering my education.
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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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