Born This Way by Paul Vitagliano Read Free Book Online Page A

Hines cake, and her older brother played preacher. We said our wedding vows, had an awkward kiss, stuffed our faces with cake, and then danced on the porch. Seeing this photograph again makes me realize how effeminate I’ve always been. It makes me wonder why anyone would ever want to make me feel bad about being
fabulous
!

matt, age 7
    Always an overachiever, I can be seen here (at
right
) demonstrating not one but two limp wrists. This level of fabulous has clearly blinded my brother. Even at seven years old, I was already telling other kids that I was gay. I didn’t know what it meant, but I knew it was bad and won me lots of attention. The fact that it got me negative attention didn’t matter. Around age fifteen, I realized, “Oh, wait—I really am gay.” For a while, I just wanted to hide from it. But that seven-year-old pride parade in my heart couldn’t be stifled. By eleventh grade, I’d made a promise to myself that if anyone asked, I’d be honest. Unfortunately, my schoolmates decided that the ideal time to ask me was in the locker room during gym class. “Why do you wear nail polish?” someone demanded. “Ummmmm …” I said. “Are you gay?” they continued. “Uh … yes, but that’s not why I wear polish,” I replied. I think this particular nuance was lost in the ensuing bedlam. These days I work as a journalist in San Francisco, writing for one of the country’s oldest LGBTQ newspapers, and I document the fight for marriage equality online. My husband and I have been together for ten years, and my parents, my brother, his wife, and the entire clan all welcome and love him. That little seven-year-old inside me is still running around telling everyone that I’m gay with absolutely no reservations.



clint, age 5
    After I told my closest friends, I sat my entire extended family down at Thanksgiving and simply said, “I am gay.” The reply from the crowd was, “So? We love you for
you
.”

melissa, age 6
    I remember thinking I was a boy, seeing no difference between me and other boys. It wasn’t until puberty that I realized I was indeed a girl, and that sent my world into upheaval. But once I met other gay people in high school, I finally understood that I wasn’t different or weird. I was just queer. And that was awesome!

ken, age 8
    My parents and I spent the summer of 1989 with my mom’s cousins in California. Thirteen years later, my mom told the same cousins that her son was gay. “We knew since he was a little kid,” they replied. “You didn’t know?” My relationship with my mom got so much better after I came out to her. It took her a few months to digest the news. But soon enough, she was telling all her close friends and relatives all about me.

kyan, age 4
    At this age, I didn’t realize that I was gay—although I imagine others around me suspected. It wasn’t until late elementary school, around age eleven, that I started to become aware. As time went on, the Internet helped me make it through, by connecting me with other gay men around the globe. Eventually, the media provided me with great outlets to understand that life for a gay man could be great.
Queer as Folk
became one of my favorite shows during high school.
    Working through these feelings was far from easy, especially growing up in rural West Virginia, where the redneck-and-Republican-to-homosexual ratios are greatly skewed. My mother frequently reminded me that gays would burn in hell. Fortunately, my mom has since become very supportive.



kevin, age 7
    In this photo, you’ll notice I had all of four teeth. For some reason, my adult teeth took forever to grow in, leaving me with the thickest lisp possible; thus, I thounded like the gayeth little boy in the whole thcool. It also didn’t help that I wore that same mock turtleneck every day, like it was a full-time job. Things got