I was an effeminate boy who liked to play house and lip-sync to Cher songs. I would put my sister’s black tights over my head, throw back the legs like long hair, and sing “Half-Breed” into a hairbrush! My parents were not okay with this.
I felt terrible, knowing that I wasn’t like other boys. Although I kept my sexuality quiet, other boys (and the girls) could see that I was different, and I was bullied. I was constantly called hateful names. I was spit on, pushed around, and punched. Unlike many gay boys, I told my parents about the bullying. They came to the school and told the teachers and principals, but nothing changed. I became isolated and depressed at age fourteen, and my mother took me to therapy, which saved my life. The therapist was open to hearing about my real thoughts, fantasies, and identity. He taught me how to fight back against those bullies with my words, and it worked. He also inspired me to become a therapist as an adult. There is help out there.
