Well, let us start with the basics. I live in Farmington , NH, in the home I share with my partner of six years and our cat, George and our dog Nicholas. We also own a duplex I bought in 2002 which brings me a little income. Stan is a wonderful partner; he and I have many things in common and enjoy the time we spend together. I must say I am very much in love. He makes me laugh and challenges me. He is the best friend that anyone could be. Currently, I work at my art and writing and on the house we live in, which is what I love to do. I left AT&T in 2005, after seven years there.I am originally from VA. I spent most of my teenage years in Williamsburg, where most of my family still lives. I miss not being able to see my dad and brother on a regular basis. I also miss my Mom who died in 2003 after dealing with breast cancer for several years. They taught me a good portion of what I know and some of the most important lessons of my life.
We were a very typical lower middle class family for the most part. My mom was quite sick while I was younger, so I learned to do a lot of things to help her out at a very early age. My dad had to drive almost two hours to get to work, worked long hours while he was there, and then would have to drive back home. We tried to spend as much time together as we could.
Some of my fondest memories are of my childhood. I can remember going up to the Blue Ridge, having picnics, visiting the petting zoo and going fishing. As I had to deal with a lot of reality during my childhood, these memories are some of my most treasured possessions. I don't think that I've ever owned a pair of rose colored glasses, but I must say that every time I close my eyes and think of those times I am without fear and I am content.
In 1975 my little baby brother was born. I was so excited. My mom brought home a bright red fire truck for me and I remember rushing out to see her and my baby brother. I chose the fire truck over my little brother. Not a bad choice considering I was four. Mom says that I already knew I wanted to be an artist at this point and I was quite precocious.
Several years passed. My brother and I were like any other brothers. We hated each other and we loved each other. My mom started to get sick around this time as well. There are many times I can think of that I cried myself to sleep because I thought that my mom was going to die. She had to stop teaching and money got tight. My grandparents and aunts and uncles stayed with us to help us out. After all was said and done my mom pulled through. The hospital bills were mounting and my parents did not have any other choice but to file for bankruptcy. We lost our house and my parents sold the car to get a cheaper one. In the end we had each other. Through all of this my parents tried to shelter us. Not once did my brother or I want for anything. My parents made great sacrifices so that we could have the things we needed. One of my greatest accomplishments during my early childhood was becoming a social outcast. I thought of things that my contemporaries would not think of for years. I said things that know one else would say. I had a diverse group of friends that no one else would associate with. I was teased and taunted and hated, but if you are going to be in hell at least you are in good company.
As if my early childhood had not been enough of a trial my teenage years approached. The best way to describe these years is by saying this; they were the best of times and they were the worst of times. It is that simple. I learned a lot about friendship, loyalty, betrayal, and bitter sweet happiness. I also learned much about myself during those years and explored my sexuality more fully. It was not until high school though that I truly began to be myself and find my place in this world. My best friend Clark was one of the few people that made going through this period tolerable. He could make me forget being hated, being poor, and helped me feel somewhat normal. Mom was able to work again, so that helped financially, but things were still tight. My brother and I had to wear hand me downs and mom and dad worked more than most people can imagine. I worked doing odd jobs and took summer jobs as soon as I could legally work. I took jobs in the summer to save up for college.
As high school ended I did not attend my senior prom, nor did I attend graduation ceremonies. I knew who I was, but not being able to share that always made me feel separated. I graduated from high school, with honors, and headed out for the college life, excited about being in the world. I chose to go to Logewood College, the same college some of my family members had attended. Things went smoothly for the most part. My life was going well at college. I had good grades, I had lots of friends and acquaintances, I was very active in political and environmental organizations and I was dating. My art was progressing and I had begun to think of myself as a writer as well. Everything seemed fine to most people. In my heart of hearts though I was not truly happy, because I could not be myself.
Before I knew it holding back who I knew I was caught up to me. One of our vacations came around and I tried to kill myself. Thankfully a good friend of mine at college, who was supposed to go away that weekend, did not. Thank you Tara. I went into counseling and spent time with my friends with my parents but the underlying problems I could reveal only to my closest friends. I was not able to discuss the problem openly until the second semester of my second year.
It was at that time that I decided to tell my parents that I was gay. I wrote them a letter telling them who I was and what I expected from them. I would take no less than being treated with respect and dignity as they always had. I was in pain. I was in grief. I did not know where to turn. I sent off the letter and waited. I expected that my mom would be ok and that most of my problems would be with my dad. Boy was I wrong! A few days passed, then a week. I thought I might not hear from them again.
Then the day came. They had received the letter earlier in the week and my mother had spent most of that time crying. She was most upset with the fact that I had had to hold the weight of my secret, all by myself, for so long. My father had spent that time consoling her. I did not know that my family also found out that my grandfather had cancer. I left college and went back home to start the healing process. Watching my grandfather die ws horrible, but in many ways it brought our extended family together.
Slowly but surely, over years, my relationship with my parents healed itself. Through jobs and moves, boyfriends and bad times my parents were always there for me if I had needed them. Unfortunately, the rift between my brother and I grew. Soon I found out why. One day my brother and I had a talk. It was one of those talks where the air grows thick and you can feel the tension building. He told me he had a secret that he had been holding back and that he had to tell someone. I knew what was coming. He was gay. He had known for a long time and I had suspected, but didn't want to believe it. Kendall had to watch my parents grieve as I came out. He heard what they truly felt. Eventually, he was able to tell my parents and we all began our healing.
About the same time, I attended a lecture/discussion group, on the William and Mary Campus, in Williamsburg. There was a good turn out and the discussion was fierce. There was an outside observer, who had been introduced to the group early in the discussion that I found myself quite drawn to. He was a wonderful speaker, intelligent, informed, sensitive and handsome. After the discussion, he approached me and we began to talk. We had much in common and he was intriguing. Needless to say, I thought it was love at first sight.
We were together for two years. We moved to Portsmouth, NH together and I eventually met most of the people who I now consider my extended family. We loved one another in our own ways, but we had our differences. Eventually we chose to part while we were still friends, before our growing differences made us bitter and resentful.
For several years after that I shared my apartment in Portsmouth, overlooking the river, with my friend Deb. We had great parties at the house and I have some fantastic stories from that time. I was famous for my Sunday buffets. I would slowly get everyone left in the house up and treat their hangovers one by one, and once everyone was ready the buffet would begin. Eggs, toast, muffins, fruit, French toast, pancakes, omelets; you never quite knew what would be there, but you were sure to have a good time. Deb is one of the most generous people I know. She is a very special lady. She taught me to love and respect myself again and to see that I still have much to offer. Eventually, she got a promotion and it was time for us to part. I'm glad we got to spend the time together.
I then moved in with my best friend Don and lived with him for two years. There were up times there were down times and we did a lot of learning from one another. Once again I have great stories tell from this time. Going out dancing each weekend was something we loved to do and again breakfasts were a favored part of our weekends. My writing took off during this time and I was able to publish my work. Don was eventually offered a position in Miami and he has lived there for several years now. I miss him very much, but he decided to cut everyone from his life and start anew, like the phoenix rising from the ashes.
After that I tried to help my mom to deal with breast cancer and her failing marriage, long distance. Both took their toll on her. When she came out of remission we had hoped that we could beat it back, but things did not turn out so well. We both remained strong and were determined to live in the here and now. Now that she is gone I know how lucky I am to have what I have and I am very fortunate to have a parent who was my friend.
The good times in my life have allowed me to keep my chin up, have a smile on my face, and have allowed me to have a rich life filled with no regrets. The difficult times in my life helped to shape the man that I am now. They helped me to develop a strong character and a determined sense of self. They fuel my emotions and help me to be a better writer, artist and friend.
I spend a good amount of my time with my many friends. I enjoy music, history, cooking, gardening, and art. I love to read, debate, and love watching movies. I have traveled to about a third of the country, Canada, and Mexico, and want to expand my travels to many reaches of the world. My artwork, poetry and writing help to fill the empty spaces of time and help to center me. Right now, one of the largest parts in my life is working on the house that we own. We are redoing most of the house ourselves, from painting the tin ceilings to redoing the softwood floors. It is a unique challenge, one that we think helps us to focus ahead and to live in the moment.
There are so many things that have happened in my life and so many people I have met, that I could never adequately tell even a small part of my story here. I hope this at least gives you some insight into who I am and why I am here.
So now you know. Here I am!
Val, Cori, Heather, Stan, Raz, Chester, Mel, Lu, Carissa, Kristin, Chris, Kris, Suzie, Brian, David, John, the other David, Dennis, the other Dennis, Mary, Deb, Carleen, Kendall, Dad, Tara, and of course Clark. Thanks for it all!
What a time it has been! What a time it will be!
