Doug

Doug, age 3
Pacific Palisades, California (1952)

In the 6th grade, I found myself looking at my classmate Steven, and thinking about his cute butt. This frightened me, because I knew I should only have those thoughts and feelings about girls. I had been told that homosexuals were 'alcoholics who have sex in alleys,' and they were 'filthy, amoral individuals who should be condemned,'  and not even pitied. And, that they ended up in jail.

At age 17, I had a crush on one of my best friends which I only later expressed by mail when we went to colleges on opposite ends of the country. 

He eventually stopped responding to my letters.

During my college years, I had romantic relationships with two girls and was attracted to several others

I really wanted to have a girlfriend and eventually be married. However, I was only physically attracted to my male classmates.

I was determined not to be gay, but I couldn't deny my feelings.

During my 20's, my pattern was to develop close, non-physical friendships with my male friends, and after many months, pursue a physical relationship.
While they rejected those advances, not one of them rejected me as a friend.

During the early to mid 70's, gay support groups began to develop on college campuses. I hung around one outside once, but I never went in. My eventual first physical relationship was with a male I had known for 12 months and for whom I was an "experiment" gone awry. Meaning: being gay wasn't for him.

At age 30, I was up late with an older woman I worked for who was attempting to seduce me. Getting tired of the charade, she finally blurted out:

'You're another faggot, aren't you?!'  And I said, "I guess so."

I eventually lost 60 pounds, got fit, cut my long, 60's-style hair, and decided to look for men whom I knew were already gay. Duh, lightbulb moment! My first gay night out started at bars in the Los Angeles area: The Rawhide, Woody's Hyperion, The Apache, and The Eagle. When I walked into The Rawhide, I knew that I was finally where I belonged. Actual tears of joy!

Next was coming out to my three sisters and parents. I made an appointment at my father's office to have "the conversation." He started by saying, 'Your older sister married that horse's ass we told her not to marry. And now they're divorced, and she's living with a man who is ten years younger than her!'

I only wanted to tell him that I'm gay, but he launched-forth again, saying:
 'And your younger sister is dating a damn Mexican!' As he looked appalled.

He then asked me, 'So, Doug, what did you want to talk about?'
I wanted to say, "Dad, you ain't heard nothin' yet!" but I didn't.

I waited a week to tell him. I think he already knew but didn't want to face the inevitable. He asked me, 'Is this something you want to do or something you feel compelled to do?'  I just said, "Both." His face filled with disappointment and resignation, and he asked: 'Is there anything I can do to help?'

Both my parents were accepting of me, but just barely.

I spent 20 years of my life rejecting my true self -- what a waste. If I had it to do all over again, I would have started in high school to develop positive, physical relationships with male friends, instead of avoiding my true feelings.

Of course, that's much easier today than it was in the mid-60's.
My advice is for the LGBTQ youth of today is trite, but true: be your true self.
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Andrea

Andrea, age 3
Baltimore, Maryland (1993)

I had no clue that I was gay while growing up. Looking back, there honestly weren't many clues, as I was obsessed with many typically "girly" things. I loved baby dolls, my Littlest Pet Shop, and my princess nightgowns.

Although I had a tomboy streak,
I largely attribute that to growing up with a twin brother. 

Everything between us was a competition, but there was nothing to hint at my future sexuality.

In fact, it took me well into my college years to begin to question things. I developed a significant crush on one of my roommates during junior and senior year but was too oblivious (and definitely subconsciously afraid) to act on it.

It wasn't until I was age 23 that I officially told my family that I was interested in girls.

I'm one of the lucky ones, as I was born into a family that has absolutely no issues with my gayness. My siblings and I were encouraged to play with whatever toys we wanted and to explore extracurricular activities we were drawn to, regardless of whether they were stereotypically male or female centric. 

So I didn't have to worry that I would be treated any differently once I came out. And thankfully, I haven't been.

My only regret is that I didn't realize I was gay until so relatively late.

I think that if I had had more contact with gay people growing up, perhaps it would have occurred to me earlier than it did.

My wife knew she was gay significantly earlier than I did. She says she thinks this is largely due to the number of other gay girls she came in contact with growing up, especially while playing elite level soccer in England.

At any rate, I am now happily married and, although we currently live in Mississippi (where being openly gay can still be a bit of a crap shoot when it comes to acceptance), we have amazing family and friends and we're looking forward to starting a family in the near future.
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Mike

Mike, age 9
Indianapolis, Indiana (1957)

Here I am in one of my frequent sassy moods, chastising the photographer for taking my picture. I was always very outspoken, but at the same time, I was painfully shy and introverted. Both sides of my personality existed and sometimes one dominated, sometimes the other.

My grade school teacher once sent home a note telling my Mother that:
"Michael likes to entertain his friends in class."

Strangely, when it came to bullying, I only remember one time, when I was 10.

A big neighborhood bully stopped me on the street and asked me if I knew I was queer?

I told him: Yes, I knew that!

That stopped him dead in his tracks and he left me alone!

At that time growing up in the 50's and early 60's, and wanting to avoid trouble, I never forced the issue and never came out to anybody.


I grew up in a home where things like being gay weren't discussed, so I was very ignorant of the fact that we are everywhere and we are just as good as anybody else! I was just me, and most kids and even grownups just accepted me as I was.

I had my first crush on another boy when I was 11 while in the Boy Scouts.
He was an older man: 12 years old! I worshipped him from afar, but never had the courage to go up and speak to him. And I'm sure he never even noticed I existed. But he was gorgeous, like a very young and hot Elvis Presley.

It wasn't until I was 14 and in high school that I started to realize I had actual physical attractions to other boys and romantic feelings for some. And I soon met some other gay boys at school. I went to a very large high school with 4,000 students, so there were several boys there who clearly stood out as gay because they were so very obvious. They couldn't hide it even if they wanted to.

Those other gay boys I met were my first introduction to what other kids similar to me must be like. I was glad to know I wasn't the only one! They instinctively knew I was "one of them" and would talk to me as we walked to classes.

However, I noticed that all of them were mercilessly bullied every day in school. And that made me feel terrible and very bad for them. But I knew if I spoke up in their defense, that I'd get beaten up too. And that made me feel worse. So I kept a low profile and tried to just fade into the background so I didn't stand out.

I tried to deny to myself that I might be gay for many years, but I knew it was true. And I finally decided to accept myself as I am in my early 20's.

To all the gay kids and young people of today, all I can say is be true to yourself. You may encounter people who will be mean and hateful toward you and who will try to make you feel bad about yourselves - but do not let them.

They are the bad people -- not you! Just have the courage to be yourself.
Not everyone will like you, but the right people will!
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Doug

Doug, age 11
Las Cruces, New Mexico (1981)

I'm on the far left here, and the only one 'posing' in this picture of my siblings, cousins, and my grandfather. Like so many others, I too destroyed most photographic evidence of my gayness as a child, as it made me physically sick.

As an adult, I tried to be straight. So I got married to a woman.

We had two wonderful children together, but my secret was destroying not only my life, but my most important family members as well.

After finally coming out at age 36, my wife and I moved through our divorce as painlessly as we could and we remain great friends.

My kids are successful because of the love my ex-wife and I still share.
And today, we have each remarried -- both of us to amazing men!
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Samantha

Samantha, age 3
Wildomar, California (2001)

I’m the one in the diaper with all my brothers and three family friends in the back. It was my birthday and everybody had been wearing boxers the whole day so, obviously, I was in my pull up! My mom made everyone "dress up" for pictures -- but I refused.

I was always naked back then. I didn’t even know the difference between boys and girls until I had to use a separate bathroom in first grade.

Being raised with seven boys made me think I was a boy, too. I just didn’t know any different. I wore their hand-me-downs, and we played with (and destroyed) toys together. It was just my life.

I didn’t know what gay was until my dad told me never to come home with another girl or he’d kick me out. I wouldn’t even hold my best friend's hand in school for fear of being seen as gay. But I wore the label “Tomboy” proudly in my oversized T-shirts and baseball caps!

Seventeen years after this photo was taken, me and two of the boys behind me are proudly gay. Both parents struggled with it, but they’ve been so supportive. They love me and I’m so grateful to have them.

After depression, anxiety, suicide attempts, and self harm, I’m much better now. I’m in college and proudly lesbian. I love who I am and I’m not ashamed of it.
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Ryan

Ryan, age 8,
Quezon City, Philippines (1990)

I grew up a poor, black child....oh wait. Wrong story! :) Growing up in the Philippines, being a flamboyant young boy wasn't an issue. And luckily, I grew up with not only my family's support, but also the support of my friends. 

The topic of sexuality and being gay was not yet discussed at that time. 
But what I know is that everyone saw that I was happy, and they let me be me.

And I do remember when I was age 11, I told my parents I was going to the neighborhood fiesta. I left the house in a white T-shirt and cut off denim shorts and my "tsinelas" - they are also known as flip flops. I joined the masses to enjoy the festival until I heard a popular song being played in a distance.

I walked over to see what was happening. A crowd had gathered to where the song was playing, and I saw a few girls dancing in formation to the beat.

The song was called “Aringkingkingking" - and I have no idea what that means! But in a quick instance, without even a thought, I tied a knot on my white
T-shirt, just above my left hip to bare my mid-drift, and I joined the dance.

I copied every step, every move, and every flare. I was happy and overjoyed, especially when the crowd erupted in cheers and applause!

This story has nothing to do with my picture here, but I thought it was a perfect memory to share. However, I DO think this picture perfectly sums up me, my fashion sense, and my ability to coordinate clothing at an early age.

I mean, only us — those who are a little different, a little or a lot gay — can put together prints serving a BATMAN look, and know the world can't tell you SHIT — because you OWN it!

Of course, when asked to pose - even as a young child - there was always a little sass and a little flirt in my pictures. This image couldn't be anymore ME, and proves that I was BORN THIS WAY!
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Kelly

Kelly, age 9
Cordell, Oklahoma (1986)

I was born n' raised in a small rural town in Oklahoma. My Daddy was the high school football coach, my brother was the all-star athlete, and my uncle (my Dad's older brother) is Mickey Mantle of the New York Yankees. No big deal, he's just mentioned right up there with Uncle Sam, apple pie, and Jesus Christ.

And then there was ME!

Townsfolk would ask, "Kelly...you gonna grow up and be a famous baseball player like your Uncle Mickey?”

'No,' I'd say. 'When I grow up, I'm gonna be a black soul singer just like Diana Ross.' 

Because one is just about as likely as the other.

The only thing Uncle Mickey and I had in common was switch-hitting!

As a kid, I used to dress up in Grandma's clothes and play Dolly Parton songs on my lil' geetar.

And they had no clue what the hell was happening!

But regardless, I was blessed with parents who always encouraged me to embrace my differences and “eccentricities.” They accepted me as every parent should for their child! Bless their wrinkled little hearts.

And as you can see in this picture, I LOVED being a little girly-boy. I think I had just told Santa that I wanted a Barbie, a boy, and some boobies! It made him very uncomfortable, and I didn't understand why. Because I loved being different than my peers, and I wasn't ashamed to be me.

That's a true testament to my upbringing.

But, like most of us, I had my fair share of getting bullied from time to time. Usually from kids from other schools at out-of-town events. Their favorite taunt was always "Are you a boyyyy or a girrrrl?" And I'd say 'Both!' Like it was a bad thing? I never could figure that out. Who wouldn't wanna be both?

Luckily, because of our LGBTQ pioneers that came before me, we now have terminology that kids can use today. In my case, it would be "gender-fluid."
Or as I prefer, "two-spirit" because after all I AM a Cherokee Native American Poke-A-Hot-Ass from Oklahomo.

So when I look at this picture of me and Santa, that's who I see — a late blooming two-spirited little gender-fluid kid, almost too comfortable in my own skin — but unsure how to explain it to others. Yet, never afraid to show it or be it, and most importantly — never once told to hide it.

And that would be my Christmas wish to Santa today — for every little boy and girl and in-between to be given the freedom to be in love with yourself exactly as you are! And to realize that when another person tries to hurt you, they're actually the one who's hurting.

Because people who love themselves, don't hurt others.
So don't ever let anyone change who you were born to be.

I’m Kelly Mantle, and I was BORN THIS WAY!
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Candace

Candace, age 3
Panama City, Florida (1970)

I don't remember who owned this motorcycle in my photo.
But I do remember that if my brother thought it was cool, well - so did I!

This little tomboy was raised in a Southern Baptist home in northern Florida, and I was taught forgiveness and to love your neighbor as yourself. I was what you would call "all in" and I was very involved with the church as a young girl.

Since no one in my life ever discussed gay people and I was taught "Christian love," I was completely unprepared for the total rejection I received from my church and family when I came out. 

Today, I still consider myself a recovering Southern Baptist.

Yes, 2017 is a world away the 1980's. But figuring out who you are is difficult for any kid, especially for GLBTQ youth living in a far right, Christian home.

While I had little support from my family I did find support from the GLBTQ community. That "family" saved me. 

So to all GLBTQ youth: You are loved!
And to the families of these kids: Love them, period!    
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Tony

Tony, age 6
Natchez, Mississippi (1973)

I'm on the left in my photo, with my little brother. I grew up in the deep south in a very Christian town. Although we moved around a lot, we always ended up back in Natchez. I knew I was gay as far back as I can remember. I didn't know the term "gay" but I knew I enjoyed being around other boys my age.

I would stay at my grandmother's house a lot, which was the best place in the world to me. My grandmother had 5 daughters and she kept all of their things in what was called the 'toy room.'

I was always dressing up in my aunt's prom dress with all of its pink tulle and fluff, wearing her platform clogs and painting my nails with magic markers.

I loved playing with Barbies and their 70's play sets. I was always putting Barbie and her friends in different hairdo's and fancy dresses, because they were always going to fancy parties. And not just one party, but several a day. Every few minutes they had to run home for a complete makeover for the next party.

And my Miss Piggy puppet was the best thing in my world!!! She and I were inseparable. I would give her amazing hairstyles and make outfits for her.

I also remember sitting on the shag carpet in our living room, watching something on TV by myself. It must have had mermaids in it, because I rolled myself up in a blanket - and I was a instant mermaid!

I remember my mom walking in, and asking me what I was doing.
I said, "I'm a mermaid!!!"

Well, that didn't sit well with my mother. And I didn't understand why she gave me such a weird look after I said I was a mermaid.

Around 8 years old, I remember having a crush on a boy in my class that I thought the world of. I even remember his name -- Billy. I would stare at him in class wondering what it would be like to hold hands and kiss him.

As I got older, things got pretty bad. Kids in Jr. High knew I was different, even though I tried to hide being gay. But the other kids knew. I was always being threatened to be beaten up on a daily basis, to the point I would break out in hives on my wrists everyday before school.

It wasn't any better at home. My father was a sociopath and was extremely mentally abusive. My mom was so busy dealing with him that she only found relief in her Pentecostal church, where I was told I was going to hell for being gay. And those kids at church were more evil than the kids at school!

Looking back, my fondest memories are about my grandmother and her amazing amount of love, because she allowed me to be me without judgement.

That was the world I had at her house, and I'm eternally grateful to her for that.

I do have a happy ending, though. As a young adult, I met a guy in town and I fell in love. And as soon as I turned 18 we moved to Atlanta, Georgia.

Today, I live in Los Angeles and have made my truest home here.
I love my life now and wouldn't change it for anybody else's life!!!
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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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