2019

“I’ve been having some gender issues lately.”

I was on the phone with my eighteen-year-old granddaughter Amy who had recently moved across country to attend college.

“Want to talk about them?” I asked.

“I want to be a boy.”

“Wow! Where did that come from?”

So, this is what it feels like to belong.

I found myself crying as I danced through the streets of downtown Boston, celebrating my first Pride parade since coming out. While Lady Gaga songs and rainbow costumes provided a backdrop for my ecstasy, my joy arose from the feeling of belonging, a sense of connection bringing me closer to myself and to every person within that crowd of thousands. That was the feeling of my first Pride.

I was born a Brobdingnagian in a world of Lilliputians. As a child, I towered over my classmates, both female and male, and most of my teachers. Even as an adult, I stand out in a crow-and I hate it. Being tall has contributed to my psychological angst: it has given me a negative self-image; it has made me the victim of teasing (“How’s the weather up there?”); and it has made me feel like an outsider from mainstream society.

Being a part of the LGBTQ+ community may cause its population to feel a similar sense of isolation and depression. Or, it may not. I do not know. What I do know for certain, however, is that being different should be okay–and that no one, especially ourselves, should condemn us for not fitting some predetermined mold.

When I was a freshman in college, my closest friend told me that he was pretty sure he was gay.

I was perplexed. I knew that gay men existed, but I’d never known one. (Of course I had; I just didn’t realize it.)

Not long after, my friend began a journey of exploration, of figuring out who he was–yes, he was gay–and I had the good sense to reserve judgment, to listen and learn, and to remain his friend.