I grew up gay, though I didn't figure it out until college. Looking back is a bit crazy to see how I made it work. I remember I would find myself looking through clothing stores online (late 90's) and always end up spending hours in the underwear section cause I just wanted to see all my options. It couldn't be that I liked what I saw for other reasons. Didn't know why or how I knew it was bad, I just knew it was at the time.

Later on in high school I also remember one time my friend was giving me a ride home and we sat in his car and talked for awhile, as friends do. He was very gay, though not out of the closet. I didn't really even understand what being gay was at the time, kind of had a fuzzy idea about it. So we finish talking and I go inside and my mom is waiting for me at the door. The look of disdain and disgust when she asked if I kissed him is something I never will forget. I felt like there was no love there and I was hated, not wanted. I was so shocked at her reaction and all the feelings. This was also after my dad died, so I was dealing with that too. Then I knew it was really really bad.

Throughout high school we never talked about it again and I continued to justify feelings in bizarre ways. It wasn't until college that it all came crashing down. Luckily my mom wasn't so buried in religion that she forgot I was her son. There was a lot that happened between then and now. We have a pretty good relationship and she has helped me a lot, through the fallout in college and after. I've accepted her views and, while she will never accept I am gay, through time, her actions, and talking about it, I know that she loves me.