Farm Story : Coming Out Of Indiana

I wanted to be the perfect boy. A perfect boy would be loved by everyone around him because he was so perfect…

As a boy my father said I’d never be happy being who I was, and I believed him. The voices at church – my church that I loved- warned of this abomination called homosexuality. I didn’t understand what that was, but understood it was the worst thing you could possibly be.

When people reminisce, they often celebrate the past by saying it was a simpler time. A time of homespun wisdom and black-and-white choices. A time when the road before you was marked with clear lines and commanding signposts. But when I look back now, I think of the extraordinarily complex path it took to arrive at simple truths. Simple truths in a more complex world.

No matter how much time passes that boy will always exist. If I could truly go back in time- well, I’d tell that boy who heard he’d have a lifetime of misery if he continued down the path of just being himself- I’d tell that boy to hang on. I’d tell him a change is coming. I’d tell him he would have a happy ending to his Farm Story. But even more, I’d tell him he’d find a happy beginning.

That boy is smiling…