A
Tale of Two Little Girls
 |
| my sister in blue on the left, me on the right in pink |
This is a first person story I have needed to tell for some
time. It’s a story of two little girls: me and my younger sister.
We were two little girls who grew up in the South in the 1960s
and 70s; two little girls raised by the same family, playing with the same
toys, sharing the same friends, attending the same schools, worshipping at the
same churches, and growing into two remarkably different women. This story is
written to share my personal experience and is for you, regardless of whether
you think that sexual orientation is influenced by nature or nurture.
Boy-Crazy from Birth
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| family vacation at Watoga State Park in WV |
|
I
can’t remember the first time I was aware that I am heterosexual. I remember
being crazy about boys from the very beginning. Boys were such a mystery and so
fascinating to me. When I was around a boy I liked (and I think I liked all of
them), my heart would race and my sense of reason would fly out the window. I
remember wishing that my Barbie doll had a Ken so she could be happy. I
remember putting my scratchy crinoline slip on my head and pretending to be a
bride with a big veil.
My first crush was on a boy named “Chris” who was from
England just like Davey Jones, and when I was around him I could not think
straight. When I was not around him, I thought about him constantly. Chris had
a younger brother my sister’s age and their play together was so different, not
awkward the way I felt. When I look back on it, my interactions with boys were
different than my sister’s because the way we each felt about boys was
different from the beginning. My sister amazed me by the way she could be so
cool headed and rational about boys when I was absolutely inept.
Our Favorite Christmas Present
 |
in Gretna, LA, sister on the left,
me on the right, playing teacher |
Christmas of 1967, we were living in Gretna,
LA, a suburb of New Orleans. Santa Clause brought the most amazing doll/action
figure play sets of
Jane
and
Josie West. I
got the Jane doll because I was older. The dolls came with everything a cowgirl
would need for riding or making a home on the range. So we both dug in and
loved them. When you removed the gear and plastic leather clothing, the dolls
were dressed in denim and boots, not naked and busty like that Barbie. And they
could be whoever they wanted to be, outdoorsy or homie, glamorous or athletic,
or both. And that was exactly what these two little girls needed because we
were both outdoorsy and homie, glamorous and athletic, just like the West
girls.
Coming Out, 1981
 |
sisters in cowboy hats,
just like Jane and Josie West
years before |
So I got to be the first family member to
whom my sister announced her special secret. I remember she phrased it
carefully, as a question not a statement: “What if I told you that I was gay?”
My response was kind of neutral. I said “Well that would be
all right. Are you gay?”
I remember that what I was really thinking
is that I wouldn’t be able to be her maid of honor or Aunt Viqui to her kids.
Looking back on my response, what a narcissistic princess I am, thinking about
how someone else’s situation would impact me before I thought about the reality
of how hard life must be for my sister and how hard it must have been to share
the secret out loud with me. I don’t remember if I hugged her, but I hope I did.
I do remember laughing and feeling happy to have another secret to share with
my sister. After we laughed together that day, I felt good, like we had
survived yet another family drama and come out on the other side together and
stronger.
 |
sister, brother, and me,
posing on a family vacation
beside the Big Boy |
I Was Born This Way
So there’s a piece of my personal story. How I grew up to be
a flaming heterosexual, despite growing up in a house where the same
environment produced different outcomes. I never made a conscious choice to be
straight. I was boy-crazy from birth. My sister was different from me from
birth, too.
I was born this way.
