I honestly do not want to spend much time crying over spilled milk, but I will say that I grew up in a middle class family with three older sisters. Yup, you guessed it, I am the baby and was pretty spoiled rotten. It took years, hardwork and love, to rebuild those relationships. For awhile it worked and I had wonderful relationships with my siblings. Today, unfortunately, I am only in contact with one of my three sisters. What separated us, and made me who I am today was the divorce. Mom and I headed up to Gloversville, New York when I was 13, still to this day I consider New York home, even though I was born in New Jersey. We lived on the "right side" of town and I went from "Bobby" to "Rob". I made friends quickly and easily, you see I was the new kid in town. I also came from New Jersey, which to them seemed like Vegas! I remember that some girl tried to make fun of me, because I was wearing Guess Jeans! I showed her the Guess Men tag, and immediately she apologized and introduced herself. Missy and I are still friends. Some of the friendships that I hold dear to my heart stemmed from this little town. The difference between then and now is that we have all grown up and stopped being pretentious.
Gloversville is a small hick town in the Adirondack Mountains, traditional roles meant that boys were football players and girls were cheerleaders! Things were great until I came out. We were dubbed the "G.H.S.-Junior Class Brat Pack" at one point and never lived it down. We were constantly getting into trouble and skipping school. (See Stories)When I came out, my friends were great. Then I slowly came out of the closet. It was pretty easy to say, "I am gay" the issue was how my peers would choose to react. In retrospect, I would have done it a little differently. My good friends stood by me, while I was pretty quiet about it. I allowed them to use the "in your face" stance. I no longer believe that this was best for me, in fact not only did it cause people who didn't know me to dislike me, it also promoted bigotry and prejudice. If these individuals had the opportunity to know me, part of which is being gay, then decided to hate me, it is still wrong, but better than fear and stereotypes leading the battle. At parties and at school, some of the guys started calling me "Robby Sweet Cheeks", this hurt and bothered me. I have always been quick with a "tell off", so I usually left them feeling pretty lame, but it still hurt.
Looking back, we all have growing pains, and there is no "right way" to experience them. I can say that since leaving that town, I have a love for it, and most of the memories are good ones, despite the problems. Instead of fighting every day I started college a year early at Johnson and Wales University, in Providence, RI. My mother was less then trilled with a 17 year old freshman out in the world, but after counseling and several runaways from home, she gave in.
She realized it was too late, I had already felt some of the world's pain.
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