All Boys Aren't Blue

by George M. Johnson

When you are a child that is different, there always seems to be a “something.” You can’t switch, you can’t say that, you can’t act this way. There is always a something that must be erased—and with it, a piece of you.

You sometimes don’t know you exist until you realize someone like you existed before.

I fought hard to fit in, but my spirit fought harder to be out.

It was a reminder of how we can take people for granted. It’s easy to believe that you will wake up every day with the people who were with you the day prior. You watch them age, but do you see them growing old or ever picture them not being here?

Be bold and brave and queer. I know that’s easy to say and much harder to do. I know that some people will never be able to actually exhibit their queer identity in that way for reasons of safety. But despite the obstacles, we have the opportunity to be a blueprint. We get to make the rules and set the terms for what our love will look like for generations to come.

Love who you want to love and do it unapologetically, including that face you see every day in the mirror.

I had built up this idea that my family, friends, city, and state were holding back my identity. That if I wasn’t near everything I knew, and everything that knew me, I would be able to start with a fresh slate. New city, new friends, and a new understanding of who I was. Finding my happy.

Will this part of my story be met with pushback? Absolutely. But I’ll be damned if I don’t tell it because of fear. My greatest fear is that queer teens will be left to trial and error in their sexual experience. It’s worth me feeling a little embarrassed so that you all are a bit more prepared.