In high school, I considered myself gay because I was in a male body and was attracted to boys. But I always dressed feminine: I had bleached-blonde hair and wore makeup, girls’ jeans, and tight shirts.
I come from small town in Indiana, where it seemed like everyone was straight and in a relationship. I was often the oddball left alone at the end of the night. I never had any sexual experiences with girls. They’d try, but I wasn’t interested. I even felt suicidal at times, because I didn’t feel like I could express my attraction or love for men.
My first hookup was junior year of high school, with a boy from a different town who played football. We gave each other head. For the first time, I felt worthy. To have this boy hold me, to have a physical connection with someone, made me feel so normal.
I had my first real relationship at 18, after I moved to Chicago to attend broadcasting academy. (I dreamed of being a reporter, and someday having my own talk show, like Oprah.) I fell in love with a guy there who was gay, and we identified as a gay couple. We were together for two years, and I lost my virginity to him when we had anal sex for the first time. We explored a lot, and I discovered I like being on top.