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Growing
Up Gay
I can't really recall when was the first time that I felt really different from the other boys. I have always felt different from them. When I was four years old, I used to play with this neighbor girl called Carol. We used to play house in my parents basement. I would be the dad and she would be the mom. Her parents were divorced so I recall that we were always getting married and divorced. I recall that my Mom would always ask whether we were married today. I attended Bendle schools in Burton Michigan. I started Kindergarten in the 1967-68 school year. I was a serious child and I would not engage in the rough housing of the other boys. My teacher was concerned that I was different and needed counseling. She cited many examples to my parents about how I wouldn't get dirty during play time. My parents agreed to let me see the school counselor. I was a shy boy. I recall that I hated to go see her. She had an office in a former broom closet and she would ask all these questions that I didn't want to answer. As a consequence, I did not like seeing her. I recall one episode where they dragged me kicking and screaming to her office for my appointment. I guess this is when I started to realize that I was different. By the Third Grade, I only had a few male friends. My best friend was James and we used to do everything together. However, I also had many girl friends who I would play with at school. There were two in particular: Rene and Cindy. At school, we would play house back in the fields. There was this ditch were we set up a camp and I made Cindy a present. It was a birds nest made of grass. These were glorious days. However, the teacher did not feel the same way about it. She felt that I should be more involved with boy play and wrote this note in my report card to my parents.
After this time, I was forced to try to be interested in playing ball with the other boys. I remember half heartedly standing out in the ball field with the boys who didn't particularly like having me play ball with them. I wasn't a very good ball player. The next few years the taunts and teasing began. I was a "sissy" because I wouldn't rough house with the boys or defend myself against them. The next few years were rough for me as I was more ostracized from the cult of boyhood. I was not quite like them and I did not fit in with them. It became increasing dangerous for me to walk the streets because of the increasing threat of being bullied by the other boys. Bendle Junior High In junior high, I used to hang out with the girls in particular a girl called Marian. We used to walk to school together. However, the other boys used to tease me for having a girl friend. This was before they would discover their heterosexual urges and girls were cool. In order to reduce the teasing, I decided to break up our friendship and it created many hard feelings. She never forgave me and wouldn't speak with me after that. However, the intended effect of trying to fit in didn't really work. I was still constantly being harassed by the other boys. The teasing took on a more vicious tone. The words they used were no longer "sissy" but they became words like Faggot or Queer. The teasing was only the start of the larger problem. It became a physical threat and going to school became a hazard. Each day I entered a battle zone when I entered the school. I had to develop strategies to get through the day without getting beat up. I had daily threats by the bullies to watch out for them after school and I would often be chased home by several bullies. I learned to look around corners in the hallway before going down it. I learned to look before sitting down on a tack. I constantly worried when a teacher left the room that I would get picked on. I often got harassed outside of gym class by the bullies who liked to play this game they called "Queer in the Middle." In the winter, it was getting hit by snowballs or having your head smashed into a snow bank. I even had this High School dude try to run me over with his VW Bug. In the eighth grade, I made friends with a guy named Cary who lived down the street from me. We used to hang out together. We played in my sand box and rode bikes together. One weekend in October, he spent the weekend over at my house. On the first night, he wanted to sleep naked with me. I readily agreed and we spent both nights cuddling besides each other naked. I didn't get much sleep that weekend but it was heavenly for me. Sleeping with him in my arms awoke something inside of me that felt so right. I began to understand that I liked being with guys. Not long after that, his mother was forced to move the family and I never saw him again. Later that winter, I asked my friend Rob to spend the night with me. I told him about the experiences I had with Cary and we decided to sleep naked together too. This was the start of a two year romance. He used to come down to my house and we would get naked. This lead to other exploration which I won't detail here. One afternoon, he came over when my parents were grocery shopping and we went to my room to fool around. However, my parents didn't stay away as long as normal. He had left his shoes in the living room and my Mom barged into my room and demanded to know who was here. Rob in the meantime was stark naked in my closet. I said that no one was here and my Mom said she saw his shoes in the other room. Anyway, we were caught and he was asked not to come back. This ended my friendship and long standing romance with him. However with my sexual awakening, I faced the difficult problem of dealing with being different. I instinctively knew that liking guys was considered queer and I began my life long struggle with my inner demons. We know this as self-hatred and internalized homophobia. I used to shake and shiver after I had sexual relations with guys because I knew I was going to hell. I remember praying to God to take away this demon of homosexuality. I remember trying to "rebuke the devil" in hopes of getting rid of this burden. I was always a sucker for an alter call. All the saving in the world and the tormented prayers I made to God did not take my burden away from me. I slowly sank into despair and depression which would last well into my college years. The assistant pastor at my church announced during Sunday School one week that it was okay to be gay and that there was nothing wrong with it. I was excited that he mentioned gays but I was too afraid to talk with him about my being gay. However, I noticed one of the other boys went to speak with him after class. On Wednesday night service, our youth pastor was gone. We were told that he would not be returning but never given an answer why. Years later, I would learn that the boys parents complained to the church board about their son and the youth pastor. It was found out that our youth pastor was gay (or bisexual since he was married) and had an affair with a man at seminary school. He was dismissed immediately and told to be gone by Wednesday night. When I heard this, I was angered about it but could say nothing to my informant about my being gay. To this day, it angers me that my church would send this signal to its gay teens that being gay was an abomination in the eyes of God and that he wouldn't allow a gay man to serve him. In the ninth grade, I used to hang out with these two girls. Our leader was this very butch girl called Tina and her friend Martha. She used to call me her "foxy dude" and I thought that was cool. One day, she called me up and asked me to come over to where she was babysitting. When I got there, she thrust me on the bed in front of her three charges and wanted to have sex with me. I got really nervous because I didn't want to have sex with her and I finally just ran out of the house. After that, she would not talk to me. The funny thing about this story is that years later I learned that she was a lesbian and she was seeing Martha I even saw them once at McDonalds holding hands. Bendle High School In high school, I met my next boyfriend Gene. He used to make excuses to his parents that we were going to study together and he would come over and visit at my house. On one such visit, I went to the basement and removed my clothing leaving a trail behind me. When he came down and saw the clothing trail, he picked it up and followed me to my hideout. When he arrived, he said to me "Oh, I see you like doing that too." He then proceeded to remove his clothes. However, my Mom found us in the locked room and demanded to come in so we had to hurry up and get dressed. After that, we found a variety of hiding places to meet. One afternoon, Gene came over to the house and he started doing his thing to me in my bedroom. He would always pretend that my clothes would unbutton themselves. Well, when Gene started to have sex with me, my mother entered the room without knocking and caught us. That ended another romance for me and he too was forbidden to see me. However, we remained friends but only saw each other in school. The teasing in high school changed in tone as the teasing became more gay oriented. The guys in gym class would limp wrist me, fold their legs over their knees and shout "Hi Guy" to me. In the showers, they would slap my butt, grab a piece of it and go "oooh!!". Their harassment was more overtly aimed at my being gay. I withdrew at this time into my shell and stayed mostly to myself. I didn't have too many friends and at home, I cloistered myself into my room. I did a lot of reading and listening to music by myself. I looked forward to the day where I could leave that blue collar town and start over somewhere else. In my mind, I was in a state of denial and I tried to fit in. I was tormented by my self-hatred and paralyzed by it too. I missed out on all of the heterosexual coming of age rites like going to the prom and dating. I was still friends with Gene but we were afraid of becoming too close or that the other guys would surmise that we were boyfriends. I was always proud of Gene because he stood up for his beliefs. In our Junior year, Gene tried out for the Bendle Cheerleading squad. It caused quite a ruckus in our community. He was eventually allowed to be our only male cheerleader. In fact, he was the only male cheerleader in the county and we took quite a bit of teasing by the other schools for it. Gene was such a brave guy to challenge the cultural norms in our community to be a cheerleader and in my mind, he was my hero. On graduation night 1980, I saw Gene for what would be my last time before he died. He passed away in an automobile accident in 1996 at the age of 34. It was a sweet and tender moment that we shared. He looked longingly and lovingly into my eyes. He told me to have a good life and that he was always proud of me because I had bought a varsity jacket. For him, that was symbolic of me being in your face to the jocks. I had never thought of it that way. My parents offered to get me the jacket and I said why not. The thing that sticks in my mind is the gentle way that he fidgeted with my class ring. He was always concerned that I display my ring in a certain fashion. He told me that I could now face it outward so that others could see it. He always thought that I was the better of the two of us and he wished me well. We then parted. In hindsight, it is a bittersweet moment for me. There are so many things that I would like to say to him now that I am out. Fare thee well my friend until we meet again. |
