Born This Way (13 page)

Looking at this photo, taken just after that awful moment, I can see how much I wanted to disappear! But it's hard to believe I once wanted to hide from the very thing that put me in the spotlight.
You see, I
am
a Girlboy! A Fruit Loop!
And I've made a career out of it! What I wouldn't give nowadays to have someone look at me and ask, “And who is this lovely young lady?”

I feel very proud of the courage it took for me
to stand up for what I believed in,
and to dare to come out at age twenty-three in conservative and Catholic upper-class Mexico City.
At the beginning, the process of coming out seemed painful and nearly impossible.
I felt as if I'd be the only homosexual my friends and family would ever have to deal with. Pretty soon after I started the coming-out process, I realized that wasn't the case. I had the support of my friends and family, but it took a little time for them to accept me. And, to my huge surprise, my three closest childhood friends turned out to be gay as well. So it's no wonder we remained friends all these years!

For this kindergarten photo, I told the photographer I wanted a “serious picture.” The more he tried to make me smile, the more serious I got.
And I did not like this dress.
I wanted to wear my fireman's hat, which I was usually allowed to do, since my parents weren't really invested in any particular gender expression. I love this picture because of its emotional honesty: I'm not smiling because
I don't feel like smiling.
No one was going to push me into feeling or doing something I didn't want. This is harder to accomplish as an adult, but it's always my goal.

We were always happy kids. When you have a twin, you've always got a playmate. We grew up Southern Baptist and went to church three times a week, so
we were around constant messages that gay people were sinners who were going to burn in the lake of fire.
We both just butched it up, took girls to proms and Christmas dances, and put up a front. In our small town, we couldn't be true to who we really were. We didn't tell each other about being gay until we were seventeen, so before that, each of us just kept it
our own secret
for fear of being rejected—not only by each other, but also by our mother. We finally came out to our parents when we were twenty-five. Our dad is slowly coming around, but our mom still has issues with us being gay. Even with all the acclaim and awards for our film (
From Hollywood to Dollywood
documents our coming-out story and journey to meet our idol), she can't stand behind it or our message.
But we still love our parents unconditionally.

In this photo, I'm wearing my mother's dress and sun hat and parading around our house. My father was a scientist and my mother was a pianist, and they were progressive and bohemian European nudists. They had gay people in their circle of friends, so
while I was at home, I felt safe.
It wasn't until I started middle school that the bullying and torture began over my sexuality. And I quickly learned that I had better start hiding my truth, to avoid physical and emotional attacks, many of which led me to the brink of suicide. In this photograph,
I am still happy and free,
like so many of the childhood photos in this book. Many of these pictures capture us as
the joy-filled spirits
we once were, before the mean world forced us to change. Today, I feel lucky and free again.

In this photo, I'm trying to ride my father's Vespa. Needless to say, I still ride motorcycles today.
I have always been a tomboy,
and luckily my parents didn't do anything to change that. I'm thankful for my genes every day. Just
be authentic,
and people will love you in spite of their prejudice.