Born This Way (10 page)

I remember asking my mom if she thought I had a good figure. She told me, “Little boys don't worry about their figures.” Growing up in a small south Texas town in the 1970s,
I had no gay role models.
I didn't even know what being gay was. Yet people at school called me names.
How did they know I was gay before I did?

I tried to tell my mom I was gay when I was in college, but I couldn't get the words out through the tears. She finished my sentence for me, and hugged me. “It doesn't matter to me one bit, sweetie,” she said. “I'll tell Daddy, and
at least I know I'll always have someone to go shopping with.”

I vaguely remember this picture being taken.
It's still amazing to me that my pose here was not a clear sign to my parents.
When I told them at the age of nineteen that I was gay, their reaction was less than supportive. In my family, like many Catholic families, we have an unwritten rule: If you don't talk about it, it will go away. They did not want to believe that this little boy, with his knee pointed just so and fabulous hands on his hips, grew up to be a gay man. Denial, anyone?

After I came out, various childhood pictures started to make sense to me. I'm proud to say that
my picture was so incredibly gay
that it actually inspired Paul V. to create his blog—and now this book—to help kids who may be struggling with coming out or being gay and, yes, to get a few good laughs along the way.

Today, I live in Long Beach, California, and I recently opened my own hair salon.
Imagine that, a gay hairstylist.
Weird, eh?

Back in the 1970s, the majority of us
grew up in an “Archie Bunker” atmosphere.
My parents were never afraid of using the N word or shy about talking about “the queers” who lived on the next block. I remember cringing every time they would start to talk about them, knowing that soon my truth had to come out or I'd have to run away to a place like Pleasure Island from
Pinocchio
.

Today I live in Hollywood and work as a successful makeup artist. I have done makeup on people like Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, and Mariah Carey, to name a few. And
I am living the life I always dreamed of.
I look back on the small stuff now and laugh, because I remember it seemed to be so all-consuming.

I didn't tell my mom it was school-photo day, and I dressed myself. She had no idea until three months later, when the large package of photos came in the mail and she saw them. But
it was worth it to me to dress the way I felt most comfortable.
As a little girl, the thought of being forced to wear a dress gave me the cold sweats. I'm forty-five now, and I still don't own a dress! When we're young we're told a lot of things, such as how to act, what to do, what to believe, and how to feel. Then with time we find out what really matters to us. Yes, it was hard growing up gay. But, looking back now,
I wouldn't change a thing.
It made me who I am today: a strong, creative, and caring person.

Who would've thought that
this kid would be a lesbian?
I sure didn't. And it took me a long time to figure it out. I was picked on in school, but not for being gay. It was for being too quiet and shy. I was honest to a fault, and it was difficult for me to defend myself. Boys found me an easy target for torment, and girls didn't like me either. I found out the girls thought I was a snob because I rarely spoke to anyone.
I thought it was obvious how terrified, lonely, and subhuman I felt.
But today my partner and I can walk around town holding hands and not think anything of it. Not everyone can do that yet, but it's possible for more gay people than ever before.