I was twelve when I first learned about homosexuality.
My family was on vacation in Provincetown, Massachusetts; we were visiting my uncles, Joel and Ray. The thing is, only Joel was a blood relation to my father.
In Provincetown, a Gay Mecca during the summer months, I saw men holding hands with men and women holding hands with women. Suddenly the idea both Joel and Ray were my dad’s brother didn’t hold much weight.
So, homosexuality was explained to me, and that was that. I shrugged, and everyone went on with their life.
Children are basically open-minded sponges waiting to be told what to think of the world around them. Since no one was telling me to stare, hate, or feel uncomfortable in Provincetown, I quickly surmised everything must be OK. The situation didn’t seem to be doing anyone or anything any harm, it was just people acting in a way I wasn’t overly familiar with.
Everywhere I looked, I saw acceptance. No one stared, no one judged, no one pointed fingers or accused. Everyone walked around as if the situation were entirely normal.
Which, in Provincetown, it was.
Which, in life, it should be…
Read on: http://nathantimmel.com/2016/how-omar-mattens-parents-failed-him/