by John

I was raised on a 600-acre farm with a strongly religious family (my father and grandfather were both preachers). Despite being from such a rigidly traditionalist background, I wa...

by Fabrizio Cicchiello

It was 8 p.m. almost a month ago when I was waiting at the bus stop. I was tired, and sick of a relationship with a 22-year-old guy which had no romanticism–just sex. At that ho...

by Philip Calderon

I had known about PFLAG for a long time. I knew it was a straight organization for parents with gay children. I had just separated from my wife and was trying to find support for ...

by Jason Brantley

I lived above the bodega on 9th avenue at 51st street, the one with the twinkle light sign and the bulletproof glass — a remnant of the days when Hell’s Kitchen was a tough ne...

by Anthony

I returned to Crosbyton from Dallas with my family when I was seven years old. Crosbyton is the typical West Texas town: Southern Baptist, football, and casserole ruled. In second...

I am in fifth grade, coming down the short hallway that connects the cafeteria to the hall with the lockers in it when it happens. Aaron, one of the “bad kids,” one of the boy...

by Bodhi

I’ve always known that I was gay. Well before I had even heard the word, or knew its full implications. I never believed it to be wrong, how could love be so? But growing up in ...

by Ray Parisi

Ben and I jumped into the back seat of a taxi feeling the affects of the night’s drinking.  I blurted out our final destination to the driver and a drunken make-out session unf...

I’ve never fit in. I’ve always been the one white sock in a drawer of colored ones. The one who lost its mate so long ago, it’s forgotten that it ever had one in the first p...