I was in the fourth grade when I had my first identifiable sexual feelings. I didn't call them sexual feelings then. Actually, when I begged God's forgiveness that night (because I was certain that anything that felt good was bad) I remember describing it as "a tingling in the bottom of my stomach, like the time I broke into the elementary school - bad and wonderful at the same time." I wasn't a juvenile delinquent or anything just a kid who was easily influenced by my peers. Four of us broke into the elementary school and our vandalism was to write (in easily erasable chalk) "Zorro was here!" on several classroom chalk boards. Fear, tingling, sexual - whatever I was feeling I liked it.
It was 1962. My sister and her friends were giggling about a packet that had come in the mail from the Fabian Fan Club. They were getting ready for my Mother to drive them to the Fernwood Country Club to swim and sun - mostly sun bathe. They had previously been mixing small bottles of iodine in large bottles of baby oil, the preferred suntan lotion of the day. When I tried to see what they were laughing and acting so silly about they said that I was too young. I acted disinterested and watched where they hid the packet under a jewelry box and retrieved it after they left. The jewelry box was pink and when I first tried to pick it up the top opened and a little ballerina popped up and started spinning around as some music played from the box. I slammed the lid down fearful that I had broken the mirror inside but it was intact when I checked. I then picked it up from the base and retrieved the packet. Several pages of information were in the envelope and then I saw a glossy autographed photo.
Seeing the photo from that packet was a profound experience for me. Though I would interpret and reinterpret my feelings for years to come I can still remember that moment as if it happened five minutes ago! Even now as I write I can see that glossy black and white photo of Fabian and a female model. She was lying down propped up on her left elbow with Fabian crouched down behind her. She had on a two-piece bathing suit. Fabian had on dark trunks and no shirt. They were on a beach. A beach ball was beside Fabian. He had a brilliant smile and a twinkle in his eye. Fabian Anthony Forte was a singer and actor (not very good at either) in the late fifties and early sixties. He was what was known at that time as a heartthrob, dark hair, brilliant blue eyes, spectacularly beautiful skin, and the whitest teeth I had ever seen.
That was when I got the feeling. I would later understand that the two piece bathing suit was what I was too young to see but I could have cared less about it or the woman. The feeling in the pit of my stomach was for Fabian. I was smitten. It was my first crush.
Given my level of maturity at the time I interpreted the feelings as bad, wrong, sinful feelings. I knew that I was not supposed to look at the picture but I had. Strangely enough, since the feelings were the same as when I had broken into the elementary school on a dare, I associated the two as times when I broke a rule. The major difference I see now is that I had no desire to repeat the school break-in, but I had every intention to look at the photo as often as possible!
I never got to see the actual Fabian photo again. When I went to look for it, it was gone. It was so etched in my brain however that I could close my eyes and get the picture in my head anytime I wanted. Over the next few years, I would conjure that picture up and imagine it as a movie instead of a still. Eventually, it became a "real" scene into which I would place myself for excitement. Even then I would see the whole scene because I needed the woman in the picture. On some level, I knew that Fabian was the one that was arousing me but to get rid of the female would have been an admission for which I was unprepared.
My first homosexual feelings at eight years of age. It would take me twenty-five years before I would be able to say "homosexual" talking about myself. Retrospectively, this Fabian photo was the first step in my journey toward awareness and acceptance of who I am.
What a twisted journey I traveled to get to self-acceptance. In 5th through 8th grades I was sexually active with other boys my age most of whom turned out to not be Gay. By the 8th grade the non-gay boys started switching to girls for their sexual pleasure and I was pretty convinced that I would eventually "grow out of it." I had girl friends (sorry y'all) and I really tried but kissing them was like kissing my arm. The only way I could even act like I was turned on was by fantasizing that I was with one of the many boys or Fabian.
The level of denial it took for me to avoid accepting that I am Gay, especially as I started to have sex with other Gay boys is something I still can't explain or understand even though I lived through it. Being raised Southern Baptist I decided I should be able to pray the Gay away. First I prayed to be attracted to girls. After about six months I switched and asked God to make me attracted to neither gender. After another period of time, maybe a year, I started to pray that I would get testicular cancer so I could be castrated and therefore understandably not sexually involved with anyone. In the Summer before my Sophomore year in high school after trying not "to lapse" and failing multiple times I prayed that my parents would never find out. Simple enough, let me protect my secret. The reason I remember the timing so well is that eighteen months after praying that my parents would never know they were both dead. My Mother died Christmas Eve morning of my Sophomore year at only forty-eight years of age. My Dad in May a year an a half later was fifty-three when he died. My thoughts sitting in Daddy's funeral were "be careful what you ask for," and "God answers prayers but sometimes not in the way you thought He would."
The level of denial it took for me to avoid accepting that I am Gay, especially as I started to have sex with other Gay boys is something I still can't explain or understand even though I lived through it. Being raised Southern Baptist I decided I should be able to pray the Gay away. First I prayed to be attracted to girls. After about six months I switched and asked God to make me attracted to neither gender. After another period of time, maybe a year, I started to pray that I would get testicular cancer so I could be castrated and therefore understandably not sexually involved with anyone. In the Summer before my Sophomore year in high school after trying not "to lapse" and failing multiple times I prayed that my parents would never find out. Simple enough, let me protect my secret. The reason I remember the timing so well is that eighteen months after praying that my parents would never know they were both dead. My Mother died Christmas Eve morning of my Sophomore year at only forty-eight years of age. My Dad in May a year an a half later was fifty-three when he died. My thoughts sitting in Daddy's funeral were "be careful what you ask for," and "God answers prayers but sometimes not in the way you thought He would."
In 2007, I was asked to tell my Fabian story for a documentary film called "When I Knew." Over a three day period in Austin the film's director brought hundreds of people together who talked in small groups and then told their story to a camera. It was incredible how many stories were similar to mine in that we knew at a age before we could put words to it that we were different. The director asked me if I had Googled to see if I could find that photo and I responded, "Why would I do that - it is as clear in my mind as any photo could be!" I did go home and Google but couldn't find that specific one. When the documentary came out I received my copy and was disappointed that I am on screen long enough to say, "When I was 10." The rest of the story landed on the cutting room floor.
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