DJ found himself wandering one evening on the gay strip of West Hollywood. He was confused by questions and feelings that he had never shared with anyone before. Where to find answers?
I was born as a surprise in the summer of 1979 in central California.
Within six months of my birth, both of my grandmas were left grieving widows at the death of each of my grandpas. They were godly women and my birth became solace to them. One grandma in particular, took my mom, sister and I to church and inspired faith in me. A few days after turning 13, I was baptized. Four days later, my grandma who faithfully took me to church, died.
As a child, I never enjoyed a close relationship with my much older brother. And I developed a poor perception of my father. He is a racist and was physically abusive, especially to my mom and sister. These early experiences made me feel helpless and weak. It contributed to my developing a timid personality. My parents also had difficulty in their marriage. I remember thinking that my dad was bad and I purposely separated myself from him to prevent myself from becoming like him. Instead, I empathized and grew closer to my grandmas, mom and sister.
Little did I know what the consequences of that decision would be on me. I spent a lot of my childhood in an imaginary world. Entering adolescence, I continued to spend it either alone or with girls my age. When my grandma died, I lost a spiritual mentor so my teenage years were characterized by spiritual decline and I attended church only sporadically.
In high school, I became involved in the forensics club. As a senior, I spent a lot of time training freshmen debaters in the club. I grew very close to them. I considered them the younger brothers I had always wanted but never had. None of them had their biological fathers in their lives and many smoked pot. I tried to look after them. They stopped doing drugs and excelled in their competitions.
Although these friendships were mutually beneficial, they all ended within one year because I didn’t know how to maintain close relationships with guys. I was manipulative and jealous of them spending time with other friends. My perception was that they were rejecting me when they were hanging around other friends. My emotional dependence on them sabotaged the very relationships that I craved.
In college, I filled my time working two jobs, participated in a couple campus clubs and took a full load of courses. I traded friendships for work. Although I enjoyed having so much responsibility, it was not fulfilling. On the weekends I would have nothing to do and I would become lonely.
I would try to fill up my time by driving to different destinations in my county. On one particular weekend when I was 19, my city was hosting a business conference. A presidential candidate was coming to attend the meeting and I wanted to get his autograph on a financial magazine that he published so that I could later auction it off for a club fundraiser that I organized.
The local bookstore had sold out of his magazine; others no doubt wanted to get his autograph too. An idea popped in my mind though. I could drive to Santa Monica (about 90 minutes away) where I could buy the magazine at what I thought was a 24-hour bookstore. But I didn’t know exactly how to get there. When I approached Santa Monica Boulevard I didn’t know which way to go, left or right. I decided to go left.
I did not find the bookstore that night. Instead I found a gay community called West Hollywood. It was the first night that I saw two men holding hands. My first reaction was to laugh. But my second response was to stop at the market and get out of my truck. I began walking past the bars, clubs, restaurants and other types of bookstores. I remember vividly men trying to talk to me. I nervously walked by, returned to the grocery store parking lot, got back into my truck and drove home.
The next week my mind was racing. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to get attention from men. Monday through Friday I would work and go to school without any male friends, but in this city it was so easy to have someone talk to you. I recall seeing a teenager up against a wall just hanging out. I wanted to go back and talk to him and ask him why he was there. I had a lot of questions about feelings and emotions that I had never shared with anyone before.
I returned the next week. It was Halloween.
Thousands of people were there all dressed up in elaborate costumes. There were so many people that they blocked off the street to make room for people to walk around. Suffice to say, it was unlikely that I would find that teenager or any particular person for that matter. This time I walked around more than I did previously. I remember specific compliments that the men said to me. Although I was so nervous, it was flattering to me since I had not received such affirmation from men to any great extent.
As it got later and later I figured it was time to head back home. As I walked downhill to my truck I noticed a guy sitting alone dressed up in a private school girl’s dress. I assumed that he was a prostitute and that no one was picking him up. I decided to ask him why he was the way he was, that is why he was gay. I quickly found out that he was not a prostitute; he was just waiting for somebody. We couldn’t talk long because his friends came by to pick him up. He gave me his phone number so that we could talk more later about my questions.
I did call him. I found out that he was ten years older than me and he was a substitute teacher living with his mom at the time. I shared with him my curiosities. Although he initially discouraged us doing anything physical, we agreed to meet a couple weeks later at a Hollywood hotel. It was on Friday the thirteenth that I lost my virginity to him. I remember as soon as it started, it seemed unnatural and awkward. I was thinking this isn’t working and it isn’t even satisfying. For the previous two years, I had decided that I was never going to cry because men don’t do that. The next morning when I gave him a hug and we said good-bye I immediately began to cry as I turned away. I sobbed all the way on the trip back to my home. I knew that I was responsible for losing something precious, my innocence.
Prior to my making the decision to do this, I had told the mother of a girl that was my friend what I was about to do. She advised me that I would regret it. So after I came back to my hometown, I told her what I had done. She seemed indifferent, but maybe she was just disappointed. While my remorse was awful and heartbreaking, I did begin to feel some relief. I began to think that since I was 11 years old, I had had attractions and strange feelings for the same-sex. I had fantasized and lusted. Now having experienced what I did, I learned that it was all an illusion. It was not satisfying and it was not for me. I was angry at being deceived the past several years.
What to do? Was there another possible outcome? DJ finds hope. . . Continue page 2
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