Male, 15, Washington DC
At fifteen, I wasn't a normal teenager. I didn't rebel against my mom or turn to pot for release (although I did try it years later). I was clumsy, taller than most of the other kids, and was discovering that I was gay. My mom was my best friend (though I did have a small group of friends) and I had the biggest crush on my best male friend Rob. He was everything I wasn't: outgoing, athletic, popular (at least more than I was). He could make my heart race, palms sweat, feel nauseous and excited all at the same time just by smiling at me. Looking back, I realize that was the main reason I hated having him stay the night at my house. He was a great friend but I acted differently around him and I didn't want people to know yet that I was gay.
All of my friends had already had sex and were pressuring me to do the same. I didn't feel alone because Rob hadn't had sex yet either. I kept my homosexuality a secret because I was mainly scared of what would happen to me and my family. It seemed like it was a crime to be gay and a death sentence to be African American and gay. I had never planned to lose my virginity to a guy—let alone Rob. I planned to pretend to be straight for as long as possible.
|Home | More Articles | Top Cities | All States | Singles Groups | Forums | Dating | Relationships|