Steven LaChance Blog

For years I told myself I would find a man and build a life that did not have to exist in bars or bathhouses. I wanted something steadier. I wanted a partner I could grow old with, a man I could have a family with, someone who would walk beside me in the ordinary days as much as the extraordinary ones. When I spoke those hopes out loud, my friends told me I was chasing something that did not exist. They said gay men did not get to have that kind of life.

They were wrong.

I found Rick. We married. Together we have five children who fill our lives with noise and laughter, and now we have seven grandchildren who carry that joy into a new generation. This is my truth. This is my gay life. It is real. It is ordinary in the best ways, and it is extraordinary in the ways that matter most.

For too long the world told gay men who we were supposed to be. On television we were painted as the flamboyant friend or the tragic loner. In our own communities, you were expected to choose your role: the leather man, the camp wit, the eternal bachelor. Some embraced those paths freely and found joy in them, but I knew from the start they were not mine.

Even within our circles the pressure could be suffocating. If you were quiet or domestic, you were told you were dull. If you didn’t like the nightlife, you were missing out. If you weren’t flamboyant, you weren’t authentic. If you were, you were accused of confirming every insult we’d ever been given. No matter what you did, you weren’t right.

I refused to step into that line. I wanted a home. I wanted a marriage. I wanted to be a father and a grandfather. And now I am. My life is proof that being gay does not mean fitting into a stereotype. It is not a performance or a role. It is love. It is family. It is showing up, day after day, for the people who matter.

When I look at Rick, when I see our children, when I hear the voices of our grandchildren, I know the life people once told me was impossible is not only possible—it is here. It is mine. It is ours.

This is what being gay looks like for me. It is not a caricature, not a script, not a story written by someone else. It is a marriage. It is five children and seven grandchildren. It is a life that proves love is stronger than doubt and greater than any stereotype.