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Being gay and recieving acceptance

OUT AT SIXTY

Part 1: Beginnings

As a 13-year-old girl, I had a crush on a girl-and I still love her. She did not know then and she does not know now, 47 years later. I look forward to my 50-year class reunion in 2006 when I will see the beautiful grandmother again.

On August 5, 1938, I was born a lesbian: every cell of my physical body was programmed to be lesbian by my Creator, God of all Creation. As I look back at my heart relationships, my choice of best friends, during my early school years, they indicate that my heart's preferences were girls. The boys whom I chose as friends were those who had no romantic interest in me.

I remember that both my sister and my brother were choosing opposite gender friends with whom they shared "kissy, kissy, huggy, huggy" relationships, even at fourth grade. I wanted no part of such interactions, even when they set-up a situation pairing me with a boy for a single purpose: to ensure that we would stay outside with them so that they could "make out" in the dark with the other boy and girl. We stayed outside because they wanted us too; but I rejected any contact with the boy so we sat on the porch and talked.

The next year my family was best friends with a family and whenever their kids and my siblings played "cops and robbers," in the forest, they paired off and hid from us so they could "make out" with another boy and girl-the rest of us gave up and went back to the house. Their behavior with the opposite gender until age 16 and our parents gave them permission to begin dating.

I did not have an interest in dating during my high school and college years; however, I had crushes on many girls during those years. I even had daydreams about romantic relationships with certain of them. When I was 16, I felt within my being that I was a lesbian. So did my father. He clearly explained the lifelong problems that I would face if I let it be known that I was a lesbian.

The summer that I played in a girls' softball league, he and mother attended every game and drove me to out of town game. They had never attended similar activities at school or in the community with me before that-I knew exactly why he never missed a game.

Dad was especially concerned for my safety within society at that time because gays were often attacked and assaulted; in addition, he knew that I would never be able to teach school. I respected my father's concerns and acted accordingly.

I was raised as a Southern Baptist, a denomination that has always taught that


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