Monthly Archives: January 2014

Tony, Healer, New York City

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

Tony, in his own words: “I have always been more comfortable with men then women.I was lucky to find 4 men to love covering a 30 yr period.

I have worked in the city for years and was successful in retail and then real estate ,Now I am a healer and my life and life style have adjusted to the healing of people and animals.

I am not in the center of the gay community any more.

I just always knew my feelings towards men at a young age and would grow but only in NYC would that be possible.

What would I tell my younger self? NO regrets. And get rid of bad baggage and move on. Things always tend to work out.

Michael, Artist/Writer/Designer, Portland, Ore.

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

photo by Kevin Truong

Michael, in his own words:“It’s easy to forget where you came from. What I mean is, it’s entirely possible to forget formative events, or the face of your favorite teacher, or the name of your child (I’m looking at YOU, mom). But one thing you never, ever forget, is your “coming out” story, if you have one. This usually reflects the time and circumstances you grew up in, and my story is no exception.

It’s the fall of 1991, in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Yes, jerk, there is electricity and running water, and yes, New Mexico is a state. Despite Nirvana’s Nevermind just having been released, Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation 1814 is still in heavy rotation on my Walkman. I own all the cassingles from it. I’m still mourning for the last Star Trek movie to feature the original cast, The Undiscovered Country, and my future boyfriend is probably being born (long story).

My boyfriend at this ancient time in 1991, however, is sweet, kind Max, who also happens to be my first boyfriend. He’s pretty great: awesome musical taste, handsome, really funny. We meet in freshman acting class and instantly connect through our mutual interests of Drakkar Noir and making out. He tolerates my Star Trek obsession the best he can. I mean, like, you know how some nerds are sexy? Yeah, I wasn’t one of those. Max was also with me when I get drunk for the first time from half of a Bartles & James wine cooler. Good times.

So the Big Event happened at the dinner table one night. I had moved out to go to school at UNM, which stands for the University of New Mexico (but is secretly the University Near Mom), but it was a couple miles from our house. Both my parents were enthusiastic smokers, something I didn’t think about until I moved out and then came back to visit. What. The. Hell. is that smell, guys? Why is there a chest-level cloud in the house? And why is grandma wheezing so much?

I don’t remember what we were eating, but I do remember it probably wasn’t Mexican. Despite my latin roots (on my mom’s side), I never developed a love of Mexican food. I had been hanging out with Max more and more, and had brought him over to meet my parents a couple weeks before. I also don’t remember what my parents and I were discussing, but I do remember as the meal ended my mom finally broached the subject: “Michael, is Max bi?”

The needle could not have skipped harder on the record as I set down my fork and looked at them. I imagine that I was cool and collected, but in reality I probably looked like a deer in headlights as I stammered “Uh, no. Of course not.” There was a long, long pause as they just stared back at me. I decided it was now or never.

“Yes. Yes he is. And so am I.” I didn’t bother correcting them at the time that he and I were gay, not bi. Maybe asking the question this way was their way to soften the blow for themselves, that maybe for them me being bi was like being “only half gay”. In any case, they both went down the “We still love you, you’re still our son, nothing has changed” road. And honestly, on some level they must have already known. I learned their real reactions later: my mom, being a director of an HIV-advocacy organization at the time, and friends with several gay artists, took the news all in stride. My dad, being the son of a Lutheran minister, privately struggled with it, but put on a supportive face. Why? Because he loved me, and he realized that love was evolving.

I’m lucky. Now, 20-some years later, I’ve turned 40. Both of my folks are amazing and supportive. My dad asks me how my boyfriends are whenever I’m dating someone, reads my posts about the shitshow that is my dating life (pro-tip: if a guy is ignoring you, it secretly means he is ignoring you). My mom tries to fix me up with literally every gay man she meets. But in the end, I’m fortunate. There are a lot of queer women and men out there whose tale is a lot different, whose coming out story is more fraught with pain and outright rejection than mine. There are people who don’t even have a coming out story yet, because of circumstances in their lives.

I look forward to the day that we don’t even need coming out stories, that it’s just universally accepted that we love who we love. But for now, we have these stories, and slowly but surely, the stories will get better and better. Let’s share them.”

A Note from Francesco, in Italy…

“The story of my coming out is very strange, but let’s start from the beginning.

When I was a little boy, I thought of being attracted to girls, because this was the only reality I knew and so I started love relationships, but whenever the situations became intimate, I gave up (unfortunately I broke so many hearts). After that, I started to give a look around during the end of my second year at high school and I discovered that there was a hidden world, lived by wonderful, particular but common people, who were scared to show themselves. But I didn’t want to believe it. I said: “No, this is impossible. I can’t be gay, it’s wrong. Maybe I need to find the right girl”. So I tried to force myself not to be gay.

After a while, the desire of having someone by my side, with who share also stupid things, began to be felt. So I thought back to my sexuality. I thought: “It still is impossible that I’m gay, but maybe I’m bisexual. Yes, it has to be this. If I’m gay, how can I explain it to my parents?”. I decided to talk about my sexuality to my best friends (at that time they were 4 girls) and they gave to me their support, they said: “No matter if you like boys or girls, you ‘re special and we will always love you”. They were my strength, they were the reason that I came out to my parents, because I knew that if the situation got bad, I could count on them. Always.

I came out to my parents about 4/5 years ago, when I was 16, but not spontaneously, I had to do. I was so scared, because I knew what my parents thought about gays.

There was a blog about my school (called GossipGirl Frattamaggiore) and one day the anonymous writer wrote about me and what I did at a gay party ( I kissed a boy). My mum have a facebook account and she saw that I post the article on the wall of one of my bestfriends. After reading it, my mum called me in the living room and she said: “There is something you want to tell me?”

“Emh no, why?” But inside I knew she knew.

“I’ve just read an article about you.”

“Really? I don’t know what you are talking about” and my heart started to beat so fast that I thought it would have stopped.

“Ok mum” I said “What you read, it’s true. I’m gay. I know that I’m a disappointment as a son, but what else I can do? That’s what I’m and believe me when I say that it’s difficult for me to admit that”

Unexpectedly my mum told to me: “Bebe, I’m your mother, I’ve always known. I put you into the world, you’re my son and my love for you is unconditionally.”

My life’s begun with my coming out. My mum helped me to told what I am to my father and my brother (they also accepted my situation, with some difficulty of course, they are men, I know that it’s hard for them to understand).

I know that Italy is not ready for us, but the situation’s changing, I can feel that. I changed minds of the guys in my school (now I’ve a lot of straight people that approve my cause). My first relationship ended so badly. After a month, my boyfriend left me, because his parents had known that we were togheter. They didn’t take it well. But now I know that people around me are open-minded, I can see in their eyes (not everyone, the road is still so long).

From my outing (and since my boyfriend left me, breaking my heart) I’ve alway tried to be helpful to other gays in difficulty, giving to them some advices (to show themselves always strong, no matter what, also with their parents they have to have the closed fist), that my house is always open for them, that we need to show to the world, more than ever, that we are not sick, we are not clowns, we want to give love and recieve love cleanly, as everyone in this world.”

photo by Francesco

photo by Francesco