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My Gay Life Was Great

Something else needs to be said about all of this, but I’m not sure what it is. There is a lot that I haven’t told you about me. I did gain control of my life and destiny to a certain extent. I built my family of choice while staying connected to my family of origin. I found the love of my life, or he found me. Both of us sustained irreparable damage from a homophobic, sexist culture. But we got over it; we’re ok.

I guess it’s this that needs to be said. My gay life was and is great. I am gay, I have a great life, my life. Think of exciting lifestyles you know about, but have not had the courage or inclination to engage in. Race car driver, nature photographer, fighter pilot, mountain climber, S.W.A.T team member. My gay life was like that, thrilling, exciting, but sometimes tedious or painful. My advice to you is, if you’re gay, don’t just come out of the closet, blow the fucking door off the hinges.
What made my young gay life so tedious and painful was all the people who tried to block me from becoming what I am, starting with my parents.

What made my gay life so great was all the wonderful people of all sexual and gender orientations who willingly helped me to grow into what I am today. But some of those wonderful people got AIDS and died. Living with people who were living and dying with AIDS was a huge part of my gay life. I told you about Tom earlier, and I could tell you about at least ten others. I am going to tell you about two others now, Byron and Don.

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