Trooper_IHB
New member
I swear I thought this topic existed already....but search button is providing me no assistance....
So many things to say....so many thoughts and feelings. First off, let me tell you all that you are my social outlet. I am grateful for your companionship. Please read my story.
This is going to have a gay slant, so all you right wingers should stop reading ....here. I am dedicating this important post to the "NO on Proposition 8" effort. All human beings should be afforded the right to marry.
*********************
I was born in 1966 and grew up in a small town called Hebron, Connecticut. My brother and I were the only two children born to my mother and father, who are both still alive and still married.
My father was a workaholic and hardly home. My mother was a frustrated ( fill in the blank here) housewife who wanted a daughter who would be her image.
Unfortunately, I did not fit that bill. I was a tomboy, and not a "girl" in the traditional sense. I only knew what was within me.
I recall in 3rd grade hearing the word "homo" on the playground at school. We also had a very popular game called "Smear the Queer", of which I participated in with reckless abandon....because I had no idea what it meant. One day after school, I asked my mother what "homo" meant. She answered my question with disgust.
Some months later, I found myself in Flag Day ceremony at Gilead Hill Elementary School. I recall standing up as the 4th grade class filed in..... you see, I had a crush on a 4th grade.....girl.
When I finally spotted her, I watched her as she walked to her seat. Suddenly, I recalled my mother's description .....and just like that....I realized I was "A homo". (I didn't even know the whole word homosexual). I sat down hard in my seat and look forward...panicked. I had recognized in myself, that which my mother described....and I was suddenly ashamed.
Suffice it to say, my childhood was spent being a disappointment to my Mom. She bought every doll and tea set available .....but I just wasn't interested. Instead, I wanted to play cops and robbers, and have acorn fights with the neighborhood boys. I resisted her label of what a girl should be like....because I knew it wasn't me.
Mom and I were never tight because of the above statement. (Continued next post)
So many things to say....so many thoughts and feelings. First off, let me tell you all that you are my social outlet. I am grateful for your companionship. Please read my story.
This is going to have a gay slant, so all you right wingers should stop reading ....here. I am dedicating this important post to the "NO on Proposition 8" effort. All human beings should be afforded the right to marry.
*********************
I was born in 1966 and grew up in a small town called Hebron, Connecticut. My brother and I were the only two children born to my mother and father, who are both still alive and still married.
My father was a workaholic and hardly home. My mother was a frustrated ( fill in the blank here) housewife who wanted a daughter who would be her image.
Unfortunately, I did not fit that bill. I was a tomboy, and not a "girl" in the traditional sense. I only knew what was within me.
I recall in 3rd grade hearing the word "homo" on the playground at school. We also had a very popular game called "Smear the Queer", of which I participated in with reckless abandon....because I had no idea what it meant. One day after school, I asked my mother what "homo" meant. She answered my question with disgust.
Some months later, I found myself in Flag Day ceremony at Gilead Hill Elementary School. I recall standing up as the 4th grade class filed in..... you see, I had a crush on a 4th grade.....girl.
When I finally spotted her, I watched her as she walked to her seat. Suddenly, I recalled my mother's description .....and just like that....I realized I was "A homo". (I didn't even know the whole word homosexual). I sat down hard in my seat and look forward...panicked. I had recognized in myself, that which my mother described....and I was suddenly ashamed.
Suffice it to say, my childhood was spent being a disappointment to my Mom. She bought every doll and tea set available .....but I just wasn't interested. Instead, I wanted to play cops and robbers, and have acorn fights with the neighborhood boys. I resisted her label of what a girl should be like....because I knew it wasn't me.
Mom and I were never tight because of the above statement. (Continued next post)
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Thanks so much for sharing your story. It brings home the reasons why Prop. 8 must not pass.
