It's the end of my 37th year on this planet. I turned 37 today. So starts my 38th year. I've got a lot on the horizon as to what I'd like to accomplish, but mostly I just want to enjoy life.

Finale 2009

2009 was a crazy year, but nothing more than I've come to expect. LOL I moved a few times in 2009, covering three different states. This is just a retrospective of that year...

It gets better... and here's WHY

So I've been hearing some backlash regarding the It Gets Better Project, even from some of my friends. I thought about doing a video response to clarify my feelings on WHY I think the project is so terribly important and highly relevant, but I didn't want any accidental anger to seep into my rantings and perhaps send the wrong message should some unsuspecting fledgingly gay run across it. So here I am putting my thoughts into words as only I can.

Let's clear up some assumptions that you may have formed about me just from watching my video or not knowing me for very long. I'm 35 years old. I went to elementary/middle school in Oklahoma, North Dakota, New Mexico, Wichita, KS, and WESTERN Kansas. I've known I was gay from a VERY early age, but didn't officially come out til MUCH later.
Throughout most of my grade school years, I never really had many problems about being "different". There were some kids who thought I was a bit off kilter, but I never suffered any repercussions due to that. I was a pretty well liked kid who did all the usual and required kid things: birthday parties; sneaking out; secret clubs and clubhouses; sleep overs; truth or dare; basketball; tag; etc... It wasn't until I got older that things started to change.
In my sixth grade year when boys start getting close to or are already going through puberty, I was suffering from some problems at home. (My parents were fighting everyday and, as I was to find out soon enough, were about to get a divorce.) It was at this point that gym started to be segregated, not every day, but from time to time and I was expected to start doing "boy" things I didn't wanna do. This was also the first time I was told by an adult that "if I just acted like myself and didn't try to 'win' everyone over, that people would like me more. Just be yourself." She was nice enough to do this in front of the entire class. I also started playing an instrument. I wanted to play the flute, but I was told only girls play the flute and was steered towards the clarinet.
It was at this point that I started seeing the school counselor. I was deeply conflicted inside as to what and who I was. How could I be myself if I didn't know who that was. **It should be noted that in the first grade (North Dakota) I started telling people I was gay, that I liked boys. When my friends' older siblings (8th grade and up) heard about this, they started dragging me over to their friends so I could tell them about it. When I realized that I was being made fun of, I stopped telling people that I liked boys. Moving so much as a child helped to cover my tracks AND make my "difference" nonsuspect.**
In the seventh grade I was living in rural Kansas with my über macho uncle, my aunt, and their 8 kids. We lived on a pig farm next to a feed yard. It was at this point that the first of my torments of being gay started. I didn't have very many friends, if any. Even my cousins didn't care for me very much. The boys in the locker room during gym would all turn their backs to me and very verbally exclaim that they didn't want me staring at them. It was VERY rough on me. I spent many nights crying over the entire circumstance I found myself from day to day.
The eighth grade didn't start out so well either. I was back in Wichita and attending middle school with some of the same people who were in the sixth grade with me. I started to win people over again, much like my earlier years, but I was still the different kid who took Home Ec instead of Shop class. I was the kid who did after school projects in science instead of doing sports. I learned in the eighth grade that I could get the teachers on my side, as it were, just by being smart and kind and eager to learn. I did go through some "bullying" in the eighth grade, but nothing of any note.
High school started out like the eighth grade ended. Nothing special, but now there were clubs and organizations I could join. Like many little F.I.T.s (Faggots in training) before me and after me, I jumped at the chance to do theatre: anything I could do to NOT be myself. To speed things up here, and please anyone feel free to correct me if you feel like I am misleading anyone, high school for me was a breeze. I was fairly popular. I wasn't THE popular kid, but I was on the fringe of things. I was involved in every theatre production for four years, so my face was easily recognizable. I was friends with cheerleaders, burn outs, band geeks, photo nuts, soccer players, basketball players, the average kids, and the foreign exchange kids- which at my school had its advantages, as most of the foreign exchange students were cool by default.
Throughout high school I had girls who tried to get my attention. By the time I became a senior, I was voted Prom royalty. My fellow classmates (1500 in the school, 241 in my class) had chosen me to be one of three guys to represent them at Prom.
It wasn't until after high school that I had learned that there were people who actively tried to defame me. The biggest loser in school was always at my back to tell anyone who would listen I was a queer, but the jocks and cool burn outs I knew were always there to defend my honor-- I was informed later in life.

So as far as bullying goes, (SAVE FOR THE SEVENTH GRADE) I don't really have anything to say on the topic. I can't speak on how it feels to come home everyday and wish that you would just die. I do not know what it feels like to know that the whole world is against you. I don't know how desperate it feels to want to be able to reach out to someone and come back with nothing. I can't imagine the feeling of sheer emptiness to the point that the only comfort you can fathom lies at the bottom of a bottle of sleeping pills or inside the gaping hole of a noose or at the bottom of a icy lake or at the smoking end of a gun or the chill of cold steal as it slices through your wrists- except that I do know that feeling.

• uncomfortable in your own skin
• scared that the whole world will hate you
• not sure of how to be yourself out of the fact that you've never been able to be yourself
• afraid your father will hit you
• scared your mother will never love you again
• scared everyone you see every day will think you are a freak and defriend you
• afraid of losing your job
• scared you'll never fit into ANY mold society has for you
• terrified you'll never know the truth and beauty of what true love can bring
• never having ANY positive role models to look towards
• scared into submission by the religious right
• paralyzed by fear of the new threat of "Gay Cancer" and being told only homos die from it, but that it's okay because that's what God wants

I know what that feels like. I know what it feels like to push a razor blade through your skin. I know what it feels like to hold a revolver to your own head. I know what it means to write out good-bye letters and plan for your own funeral.


I feel like the IGB project is important because it gets people who wouldn't normally put themselves out there on display. It creates a blanket of awareness, and by doing so lets young F.I.T.s know that they are not alone. It lets them know that other people are out there who went through the same things they did. It gives them hope that their lives aren't going to be desolate wasteland they picture in their heads. It gives them an earlier support web that they were otherwise unaware of before.
I understand how some people think... NO I don't understand anyone can think IGB is doing young men and women a disservice by telling them it gets better, that we're somehow saying that a magic fairy (or lumberjack for lesbians) changes their future to be perfect. Regardless of what you're telling children about their futures, you can be president or famous or rich or travel the world or that you're life will get better, we should never be alluding to or implying that anything is handed to them on a silver platter or diamond studded stiletto. It seems like a given, that it goes without saying that life will get better--if you make it better. I'm terribly confused by the argument that telling them It Gets Better, is misleading them. I don't wanna talk down to them. Sure I guess someone could argue that point, but it seems like a petty point.

As an adult--

• I work two jobs.
• I don't have a car.
• I have a potentially fatal lung disease that WILL take me sooner than later.
• I've never lived in the same city more than four years.
• I've never had a long term relationship or any relationship that lasted longer than three months.
• I don't have anything in my savings account.
• I have more debt than my parents EVER had.

But is my life better than it would have been had I taken an entire bottle of sleeping pills in November of 1998? Have the past 12 years been worth it? Is it BETTER? Hell fucking yes!!!

• It gets better because you become more comfortable in your own skin.
• It gets better because you find other people who went through the same experiences you did.
• It gets better because you can be honest with the world. You can be honest with yourself.
• It gets better because you start to create a support system you never knew existed.
• It gets better because if you are ostracized from your family, you learn to create a new one.
• It gets better because you learn that only you can judge you. Only you have the power to condemn yourself here on Earth.
• It gets better because you start to flesh out the parts of yourself you tried to keep a secret and you learn new and exciting things about yourself you never would have before.
• And most importantly, It gets better because you fight for it. You scratch and claw and scrape your way to a better more fulfilling life. You kick anyone in the scrum who keeps you down. "You rage against the dying of the light."

I had a dear friend today, through a pool of tears welled up in her eyes, thank me for being me. She thanked me for changing the world, one baby step at a time. She then informed me that her husband, her husband of a lifetime, came out to her two years ago. She then proceeded to tell me how different his life would have been, how different her life would have been, if he'd been able to admit to himself decades ago that he was gay- if he'd have had positive role models to look to for support and guidance. As my throat filled up to the point of being speechless, I just looked at her. I had no idea what to say.

So do I think the It Gets Better Project is worthwhile? Do I think it's a good movement? Of course I do! The Grand Canyon was carved out over time, not over night. Change is built on the backs of those before us. Our eagerness to spit in the eye of convention and hold out our hands to the generation behind us to give them a leg up is what makes the world a better place. If we don't do what we can to support and keep the generation behind us alive to take over when we're gone, that's it. The fight and struggles of our ancestors will have all been for not.

When a drag queen walked into the Stonewall Inn Bar in June of 1969, she didn't know she was gonna start a revolution, but she did. I'll gladly give my life, in whatever manner, to ensure that three generations from now, boys can kiss other boys and not have their fathers beat the shit out of them.

It DOES Get Better!! It WILL get better!

It Gets Better

This is my submission for the It Gets Better Project on YouTube. Young gay men and women need to know that there are people in the world who care and who listen and who can and will be there for them if they need it.

I'm sorry... I didn't know.

So upon moving back to the Midwest, I've discovered something. Either the people here refuse to jump to conclusions or I'm not nearly a gay in appearance or actions as I was 14yrs ago, because I've had to "Come Out" on several occasions. It's weird. But hey, perhaps I can make positive references to these people... lol Perhaps not.

36 and Counting

So I just turned 36. Stereotypically I haven't had the best of birthdays, but all that seems to be changing as my 30s have been nothing but awesome and stellar. This is just a quick recount as to how I spent my 36th.

Stupid

So working the Service Desk at Target supplies me with all sorts of stupid, but this was above and beyond the worst I've had in a LONG time...