family
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I always hated the game that was being played around me. “Is he or isn’t he?” It was never anyone’s business to begin with, and if it mattered that much, all they had to do was ask. I would have answered. The truth is, the people who needed to know, knew. I was always resentful…
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You know, I came out to my parents before anyone else. My mom was the first to know. Then again, a mother always knows. I believe that is true. It was not easy being the odd man out in a family. You learn to adjust. You learn to pay attention. Every time I encountered homophobia…
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It’s in the quiet times of the morning when my mind wanders back to the past. There’s a lot of hurt there, and it would be very easy to wrap myself in it and disappear for a while. Someone once asked me about my ex. I told them I stepped away from that situation to…
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Nothing Else Should Matter— Steven A. LaChance How did we learn to live like this,in a world that leans so easily toward hate? Where did it begin,this quiet beliefthat we are somehow betterthan the person standing beside us,to the right,to the left,close enough to touchbut kept at a distanceby nothing more than an idea. What…
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I’ve spent some time over this past week writing about the crucifixion and the resurrection. Not because I felt the need to explain them, and not because I think I have answers that anyone else doesn’t. I wrote because I had something to say, and because it is still rare to see a gay man…
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I grew up in a time when you could turn on the news and hear people tell you, plainly, that if you were an LGBTQ+ young person, something about you was wrong. Not misunderstood. Not still figuring it out. Wrong. And it wasn’t quiet. It was said out loud, in living rooms, on television, in…
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Crazy will always be one of my favorite books I’ve written. First of all, how it was written is different than anything else I have ever done. In 2006, I was personally asked to come to an old truck stop restaurant on Old Route 66. The Tri County Truck Stop in Villa Ridge, Missouri. They…
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“He turns; I can see his frontal torso in the light. It’s covered in blood. Is he looking at me? The room begins to spin. The sound of his desperation matches the tempo of his hands scrubbing his body. The room keeps spinning and spinning. I still feel his eyes on me. I can’t breathe.…
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Someday the world will wake up and I will no longer be here. Morning will come the way it always does. Coffee will be made. People will go to work. The quiet machinery of daily life will keep moving forward without noticing that one more voice has gone silent. That is the simple truth of…
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It was around 1998. I was dating a man who lived in Columbia, Missouri. He was a tennis player. A handsome man who looked a little like a young Robert Redford. I fell hard for those blue eyes and that chiseled jaw. At the time I was raising my three children on my own. On…
