At six years old, my son is not capable of fully understanding the lifelong price he will pay for his father’s mistakes.
Kiss your old life goodbye and prepare for a plethora of bruises in the most obscure parts of your body.
By the time my parents cut me off, I had become an undeserving, manipulative individual with no drive and little to offer the world.
I feel that I was born to be a dad.
This Sunday, I will go through photo albums, cry over the pictures of him making silly faces, of him playing with my son, whom he had a deep connection with.
“When you can see all these emotions on people who always kept things together during your childhood it’s pretty real. It lets you see that they’re regular people, with their own personal struggles and stuff.”
Why are we so terrified of talking to our kids about sexual orientation? Are we scared to shatter their innocence?
Why spend your hard earned money on a gift when you can make dad laugh instead?
I cried, mainly, because I had forgotten the way my father made me feel every day of my life.
I sat there, very uneasy, myself a gay man. My father knew that. I had told him years ago. And he had said then:
“I will kill the boy who had sex with you!”