My Written Word…

My Written Word…

I’ve been writ­ing  some­thing — this or that — ever since I learned to write. Some­times I’ve shared it, spo­ken it, pub­lished it…sometimes not. Maybe now’s a good time to share.…

Been think­ing a lot about grow­ing up late­ly. Always been on a search for under­stand­ing where I came from, and how the “me” that’s me came about. I mean, I can see some of my par­ents, and even grand­par­ents, in my look and my out­look, but some­how the way all those genes came togeth­er in me was some­thing alto­geth­er new to all of them…and I don’t just mean the “gay” part.

I used to fig­ure that I was either adopt­ed, some sort of changeling switched at birth (by fairies), or that I real­ly came from out­er space. And if it was hard for me to fig­ure out where I came from, can you imag­ine how hard it was for my par­ents! My dad fig­ured out pret­ty ear­ly that I was some sort of an enig­ma.  I think at first he tried to deny it, but by the time puber­ty came around, he knew trou­ble was only a mat­ter of time.…