I had sex for the first time on May 3, 1979. Funny how you always remember your first. It was with my sister's best friend. I was 17; she was 16. Everyone in the neighborhood swore we were already having sex, but we weren't. I really wasn't interested in her or any other girl for that matter; even if I was, I wouldn't have known what to do anyway.
Beyond its romantic, mysterious plot-line, Love, Simon is an exploration of queer adolescence in the 21st century, complete with social media postings and aliases. The coming out experience lies central to the story, as Simon explores the new terrain of his sexuality with friends, family, and his entire school. I'd love all straight people – straight Christians – to watch Love, Simon, because it will show them how gut-wrenching (and also beautiful) the coming out process is for a gay person: of finally letting another human into the biggest secret of one's life.
My mom didn't start saying she loved me until she became a Christian in the early 80's. Now she says it almost every day, and I feel like she's doing it to make up for all those lost years. As far as I'm concerned, those "I love you's" are empty because she's been saying it to the straight Michael she's always preferred instead of the Michael actually in front of her. And because of that, I've learned to tolerate her acknowledged denial of my life.
After about a year, the little gay boi in the closet started knocking again and wanted to come out. The desire to be known started to germinate from that dark, cold, humid corner. The next person placed on my heart to tell was my mom. From my point of view, we weren't that close and I didn't feel very loved. Coming out to my mom was probably the hardest coming out I had to do.
My father found out about my gay pornography use. He wanted to help me. And then my father never spoke to me about gay pornography use again.
My middle school years were some of my most difficult times. I started noticing other guys and growing overwhelmed by my first gay feelings.