Basically, I felt like a girl—or an overly sensitive boy with a very vivid imagination. We would put on shows in the garden, and I did drag brilliantly in my sister’s long party dress. I think I was quite scared of the other boys my age, and by age ten, I was called a sissy and a poofter before I even knew what it all meant. The milkman once said to me, “Andy, why do you walk like a girl?” This really screwed me up for a while, and I’d think, “Well, how does a girl walk, anyway?”
