AKA William

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Now, I don’t mean to suggest that I was raised in some in some kind of oppressive conservative environment, discouraged to be myself. To the contrary, my parents, and later, to a greater extent, my adopted stepfather, were the picture of liberal Jewish American hippiedom. Unfortunately, my biological father was not raised like this, and at least through my childhood, he struggled turbulently to make sense of himself. It was hard for me to watch and confused me as to who I wanted to be like.

I knew I was a lot like him, but he hated himself, and I didn’t know what to think. A lot of aspects of his personality and lifestyle, circle of friends, etc. appealed to me, but it all seemed tainted, dangerous. Years after our estrangement, I found myself experiencing guilt around healthy, harmless things in my life that reminded me of him – despite the aforementioned open-mindedness and nurturing of my mom and (straight) dad. We’re so affected by our influences, but ultimately, it’s all got to come from the inside.

Of course, at least in terms of sexuality, I had no choice about who I was going to be. It was actually kind of a burden to think about my gay dad and my own gayness in the early 1980s when my friends’ only references to homosexuality were a couple of AIDS-related Rock Hudson jokes. I didn’t want to be like him (Rock Hudson or my father), but my therapists told me I couldn’t know whether I was gay until I developed sexual feelings for guys. So, the years between my father’s coming out and my puberty, were an anxious waiting period.

When I finally reached adolescence, I cautiously monitored anything that could be construed as sexual attraction. If there was a shred of straight in me, or even a bit of bi, I wanted to build on it and see where it went. No? Not really? Okay, then, I was willing to accept myself. But I didn’t know who I wanted to be like, besides Patti LuPone.