Growing up Mormon in rural Alabama sheltered me from many lessons that my friends and cousins had learned at an even younger age\u2014some trivial (like how to cuss) and some more vital (like how to stand up for yourself, even when you\u2019re afraid).<\/span><\/p>\n In time, life would teach me these lessons and so many more.<\/p>\n In the sixth grade I realized I was gay. Based on the intensity of their taunts, my classmates knew this long before I did. I was in Ms. Kidd\u2019s fourth-period history class. \u201cDerek\u201d (not his real name) asked me if I was gay. Stunned by his directness, I offered what I thought was a convincing \u201chell naw.\u201d But the truth was, I had no idea. That\u2019s not the type of question 12-year-old Mormon boys ask themselves.<\/p>\n But when I did ask myself that question, it took only a few hours to get an answer. Despite the fact that I had a girlfriend at the time, I was gay. Suddenly my obsession with certain male actors, my secret love of My Little Pony and the relentless taunting by my peers all made sense. I was gay.<\/p>\n And that\u2019s exactly what I told (actually, wrote to) \u201cDerek\u201d at the end of the day in a letter I sent all the way across the classroom in our last-period English class. Derek and I kissed in the bathroom a few times, but other than talking on the phone, that was the height of our preadolescent love affair. Did I mention I was dating a girl at the time?<\/p>\n Learning that I was gay was more than enough knowledge for my 12-year-old body and mind to process, but life would insist that I learn much more.<\/p>\n