While I mask myself with the aire of "Pride", I have never been a very proud person. I have seen people that were full of gay pride, and I have both envied and felt shame because of them. For some reason, for a long time, I viewed the Pride movement as just a perpetualization of the negative stereotypes surrounding the gay world. I never understood how extravagance could illustrate the desire for normalcy. This has all changed as I have grown more comfortable with my sexuality, but I believe a note needs to be made of previous mindsets nonetheless.
When I was younger, my sister and I had a Nanny who looked after us. She, along with my biological family, made it possible for my sister and I to have a wonderful childhood. Sure, we did--and still do to some extent--complain about some things that happened in our past, but who doesn't. One of my earliest memories is playing barbies with Tammy's (Nanny's) daughters. I remember Maw-Maw, (Tammy's mother) watching me play with Cammy, and I remember the feeling of shame that washed over me. I have been told that I used to chew the feet off of my sister's Barbies, and that my favorite toy was my She-ra doll. I have some recollection of these things, but I can not be sure they are my own, or just my subconscious piecing together what people have told me. But I digress, back to the story at hand. I don't know why I thought it was shameful to play with Cammy and her Barbies, but for some reason I always hid what I was doing. I never felt comfortable playing football with the boys in the neighborhood. I have shot a gun a few times in my life, but basically for show, never in an attempt to hunt something. I guess, I have never shown the masculine traits that a boy from southern, rural Alabama should. Thusly, I have always felt slightly different.
I vividly remember having a childhood crush on Tammy's nephew, Lee. As I recall, around the same time, my sister did as well. I have never made mention of this before, but I allowed Paige's puppy love to take the spotlight, out of fear of the recourse of people knowing my feelings. Eventually, I had a little boyfriend. I believe I was around six years old when Bubba and I started playing around. When our parents and sisters would go off to spend time with each other, we would hide away in my closet (ironic, huh), and kiss and cuddle and play around. Some time after all of that, I stood in front of the very religious Tammy, and asked her what it meant when a boy likes another boy. I remember her saying, "it means you're gay, and you're going to hell". (Recently, I have confronted Nanny with this memory and she denies it feverishly). Having been raised in an Assembly of God church, the fear of hell was already embedded in my concept of reality. There was a boy in our church, much older than me, that was gay, I could tell that I identified with him from the first time I met him, but there seemed to be something about him that caused everyone to avoid him. During the course of my childhood, this boy's mother died, and the family did not take it well. His sexuality became the center of many discussions, and I did not want anything like that to happen with me. So I retreated my sexuality into the recesses of my mind, praying that it would go away.
As I puberty, the feelings of lust towards men became almost too much to bare. I had conversations with myself, promising that I would stay with whichever gender I had sex with first, knowing good and well that I would not allow such an act to happen with another man. Well, I was wrong. There were a few boys here and there throughout childhood and adolescence that I fooled around with, all of whom have turned out to be straight and the vast majority of whom refuse to make mention of my existence to date.
I tried to hide my sexuality through church. I began to try and fit in with the people at my sister's church. (It was mine too, but for reasons that will soon be discussed, it never felt like "mine"). There was a group of popular boys in the youth group that I wanted desperately to be a part of, but for some reason I could never connect with them. This was either because I would not be my true self around them, and there are few people that like being friends with a phony person, or because the dissimilarities between our concepts of "self" were not the same. Either way, I can tie my homosexuality to it. There were a few people I got along with while in school, but being a small Alabama town, most kids spent most of their time with their youth group. The feelings of disconnection with my peers became too much for me to bare at one point in time, and I had serious thoughts of suicide, and, once, spent a few hours (no exaggeration) holding a knife to my wrist sitting on my bed debating the pros and cons of completing the act. The one thing that stopped me was the realization that my sister's birthday was just a few days away, (or the next day, I've lost track of when that was exactly).
Thankfully, I came across a good group of friends in Jr. High and High School. Mandy is the main one to stand out, for this part of the story. I know that I annoyed the crap out of Mandy, and I suspect she lost a few friends because she stood by me on so many occasions, but she did stand by me nonetheless. In high school, I forced myself to have sexual relationships with girls in a desperate attempt to hide my sexuality. I became obsessed with being a good lover, because if there were women that enjoyed having sex with me, they would help me defend my heterosexual status. However, after every time I slept with a girl, I became physically ill within a short time. While a junior in high school, I moved to Mobile for boarding school. There, I was free to express myself as I pleased, and this was a little too overwhelming for me. There were a number of girls with whom I flirted, and a couple that I performed sexual acts with just out of the habits I had formed while in Enterprise. If I could have sex with as many women as possible, it would cure me of being gay. Well, while at ASMS, (the boarding school), I met a few guys who were relatively open about their sexuality. I became enamoured with one of these boys, and his roommate developed a crush on me. I wound up giving into temptation with the roommate one night when there was a lock-in we skipped to enjoy some jello-shooters. Regrettably, the next morning, I could not remember the boys name. I still feel guilty for this. Once I came to the understanding that I would explode out of the closet were I to stay at the school, I decided it would be best for me to leave. My mother had just gone through a divorce, and my sister had gone to college that semester, so my mother was very depressed. It was a good decision to move home.
Back in Enterprise, I made good friends with a married couple, Byron and Shelby. I spent most of time at their house my Junior and Senior year. In August of my Junior year(2002), I came out to Shelby while were sitting in my truck in front of Lowe's. I made a big deal about getting away with her. She was admittedly Bi and I figured she, if anyone, would understand. When I told her, I admitted to being Bi, (just to test the waters to see what people's response would be). She took it as no big thing. We went back to her house, and she convinced me to tell Byron. I opened to door, leaned in, and told Byron I was "bi". He replied, "well, did you know I'm trisexual. I'll try anything sexual.". I appreciate the humor, and nothing was ever different among us. Later, my friend Jerrid turned 19, 20, something like that. He was kicked out of his house when he was 18. He had overly conservative parents that sheltered him from the real world and believed that "when you're 18, you're out of the house". He had a party, and i told my friend Mandy. She told me not to turn into one of the flamers, (something like that), and she'd be fine. Well, that night, there was a boy I had a huge crush on. Mandy and Shelby could tell I liked him, and helped me spend as much time with him as possible. We played a card game, boys versus girls, where the team with the losing hand had to do something increasingly sexual. I think he and I got to where we kissed, but nothing more.
Senior year, that same boy and I became secret lovers. He was in one of my classes and we became increasingly comfortable with each other, and spent time together outside of school. He would always complain about his girlfriend, and would fantasize openly about cheating on her. One weekend, she was out of town, visiting some college she was interested in, and he and I were hanging out. We were searching through out phones for girls we could sleep with, and we had made a pact that we would only have sex that night if the other guy got to as well. It turned out we could not both find a girl, and I said, "the only way we can both have sex tonight is if we have sex together". I had a huge crush on him, but said it not meaning anything by it. He replied with, "you want to...?", and that started a four or five month relationship where he would come over to my house, we'd fool around, he would complain about his girlfriend, and then he'd leave to go have sex with her. An interesting and non-therapeutic relationship, but I was a senior in high-school, don't judge me. Later that year, during senior prom, Mandy and I went. I gayed it up by designing and making her dress. We matched in pink and white outfits. We only stayed at the prom for one song, then off to Shelby and Byron's. That summer, I got accepted to Troy, which was where my sister went to college. I decided I should be the one to tell her anything she would hear about me, so before the year started, I sat her down and said, "Paige, you know how boys are blue and girls are pink, well, I like navy blue more than I do purple.". She was ok with this, I don't remember her exact response, but she didn't make a big deal out of it, which I appreciated. I also came out to good friend of mine, Chris White. He had moved away for a little while and then come back. He proceeded to change how he viewed me, belittle me on various occasions, out me publicly, bully/beat me, and have his mother adorn me with holy oil and hold candle light vigils for my soul. There were a couple of more boys, one of whom vanished off the face of the earth. I still wonder whatever happened to Bo.
I moved off to college, and was still fighting whether I wanted to be openly gay. My first year of college, I had three main groups. My dorm friends in the international dorm, my friends at the honor's cottage, and the fraternity I was rushing to please a friend from high school. I eventually quit the frat, because I knew I was about to come out and I didn't want that stigma around the boys. I spent a lot of time with the Honor's cottage people. and dated a girl there, Jessica. I spent most of my time there because there was a gay couple living there, and everyone there had a lot of gay friends. Jessica realized I was gay, and helped me break up with her. I hurt her a lot, and I am sorry for doing so. My friends at the dorm, (affectionately referred to as the FPC or front porch crew) were the best friends I've had in my life. But to stay on track for this story, I will pass-up the opportunity to rave about Casey, Bethany, Margo, Remon, Salma, and even Gloria. There was Tori, Hayley, Grant, Turgay, and a dozen others, but that is another post entirely. There was also Steven. Casey introduced me to Steven, and on the first night, he and I stayed up until the sun came up just talking. He was a Church of Christ boy, and not open AT ALL!!! Well, things being as they are, he and I started messing around, slept together, and kinda started dating. But again, it was secretive, and he made me swear never to tell anyone. I could not handle that, I was lying to all of my friends, (who could tell anyway). One night, after had slept together, he looked over at me and said he couldn't be in a relationship with a guy anymore. I was devastated, and what was worse, I could not tell my friends about why I was crying on their shoulders because I had promised hm no one would ever find out. By this time, I had come out to everyone. It was relatively easy, since most of them didn't know me before hand, and i felt comfortable around the broad range of personalities I spent my time with.
The day after my 19th birthday, Steven took me to a gay club in Montgomery. He wanted to ask me back, but I met Erik. I could write a series of books on Erik. We were together for just over 2.5 years, and during that time we broke up probably 9 times. But I loved him. The summer after he and I started dating, Steven needed a place to live during the summer, and Erik let him move in. Well, when I was finished working at the boyscout camp I was running, and was effectively told not to reapply because I was gay, I moved in with the two of them. We had a great time, and Steven met Christopher at the club. Christopher's roommate was Justin, and Justin eventually moved in with Erik when the lease on he and Christopher's apartment was up. The school year started back, and everything was right with the world.
I decided I would tell my mother I was gay. I had tried a hundred times, and one day, while she was on the computer, I started to go into my speech. My shakey voice had to be an indication of how nervous I was, so my mother interrupted me, and said, "Paul, have you ever seen (insert the name of some movie I still can't remember)? Well, during the movie, there is a scene where there is a man standing on a bridge yelling, 'SIGNS, there are signs'. Well Paul, that's how it is with you. There are signs." We then sat in silence for a little while, and changed the subject. As college progressed, Erik and I got closer. In July before my senior year of college, I asked Erik to marry me. He took five days to think about it, during which time I was going insane. Finally, I confronted him about it, and he rejected my proposal. We broke up, and he started dating the 17 year old that I was suspicious about him having an affair with. Erik has since moved out of state and he and the boy are no longer dating. My last understand was that the boy was dating Steven's old boyfriend, Christopher.
After Erik and I broke up, I became very promiscuous. I tried to have conquest over as many boys as it took to get Erik's face out of my head while I was having sex. It wasn't working. Then, fate intervened and I met Marcus. He and I hit it off immediately. After we talked on the phone for 10 hours one night without pausing, I was in love. I am still dating Marcus, have been for close to 10 months now. He lives in the apartment complex next to mine. Coincidence, I assure you. We are happy, and are not moving nearly as fast as I have in previous relationships. I am living with Steven and Justin, and am relatively happy with where I am in life, but there is room for improvement.
I have told my father I am gay. It was right before he had heart surgery, and he told me he didn't care I was still his son. the phrase every gay boy wants to hear. However, he was heavily medicated at the time, and has forgotten. I am working up the courage to tell him again. I have gotten a good reaction from him before, but his wife has told me how she feels, and I don't want to make her uncomfortable around me. I am, however, planning on taking Marcus to Paige's wedding, and thusly have to come out to everyone and let them be comfortable with the idea before the wedding, as to not draw attention onto us and away from Paige and Lance on their big day.
So that's my story, or what I could fit in somewhat coherent fashion onto this post before fingers felt as though they would fall off. I'm sure there have been things that were omitted. I have memories bombarding each other in my head while trying to write this.
I have lost friends, and made friends. I had family abandon me, and have abandoned family in an attempt to not have them abandon me. I've been beaten, been loved, been forgotten, and become unforgettable. I've received and caused heart-ache. And there is still so much more to come, but I would not change a thing if I had the chance.
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