I wish someone older than me and wiser than the people in Orlando had taken me aside and said, "You're all right, kid. No, Mama, I wasn't "recruited." No seasoned homosexual ever served as my mentor. Revulsion, shame, disbelief - rejection through fear of something I knew, even as a child, was as basic to my nature as the color of my eyes. I know what that feeling is, for I felt it for most of my life. Not for what I am, but for how you must feel at this moment. That, more than anything, made it clear that my responsibility was to tell you the truth, that your own child is homosexual, and that I never needed saving from anything except the cruel and ignorant piety of people like Anita Bryant. I wouldn't have written, I guess, if you hadn't told me about your involvement in the Save Our Children campaign. I hope especially that you'll see this as an act of love on my part, a sign of my continuing need to share my life with you. I hope their doubts are based on parents who love and trust them less than mine do. I have friends who think I'm foolish to write this letter.
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