I grew up in a tough neighborhood, but that didn’t deter me from doing the things I wanted to do, in spite of much disapproval. I chose all my own clothes and insisted on walking around dressed like a young aristocrat. A favorite game of mine was pretending to be Miss Piggy, Wonder Woman, or one of Charlie’s Angels, as I hoped to be powerful like them when I grew up. I was a reflective, quiet child who loved to read and make up stories. I hated sports and getting dirty. Other children made fun of me because I wouldn’t play football or rough games. I often sat quietly alone on the playground, and I never understood why people disapproved of me so much. Adults despaired at what they considered bizarre tastes for a boy, and they made their disdain known. My father disapproved of my desire to have a dollhouse, so I learned to keep quiet around him. In high school some of my teachers picked on me, so I learned to keep to myself. Yet I grew stronger as I got older, and I gained acceptance by hanging about with other boys who were similar to me. I came out at school when I was fifteen, and although it was no surprise to anyone, I wasn’t readily accepted. I weathered it all and came through the other side alive and well.