Learning
I first realised I’m gay when I was eleven, in 1996. He and I were climbing this dirt mound outside what was then a supermarket. We hadn’t slept together yet — that came later — but he was my best friend. And climbing up that hill, drinking Surge, I realised that I loved him. Not just in the bff sense, but in the bf sense. I was raised baptist, did anything to avoid church (including — I kid you not — drinking milk with lemon juice to convince my parents I was sick), being queer wasn’t really a viable option. Of course, it was a “choice” then. I’m out and — as you likely are aware — proud now. Coming out was not an easy journey, but, though it took some time, was a worthwhile one.
Destructive Anachronism 