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We’d drive the car down the Castro drag and stare at the men holding hands.

My brother and I would count rainbow flags in windows while my parents explained what was going on to their shocked friends from out of town.

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The first person I came out to was a woman named Patricia. “But next year you’ll be graduating, and then you can move out of your house and just live your life. “Because we should go shopping.” Instead, we went to her house and went trolling in the chat rooms of America Online for eligible bachelors. I attended School of the Arts, a visual- and performing-arts school that was then housed on San Francisco State University property (now a soccer field) and had the distinction of being one of the most liberal and progressive high schools in the Bay Area.

She was in her late 20s, new to the city and taking the N home from the Powell Street station. You’re going to be fine.”By the time I was in the 12th grade, I gradually slid out of the closet. While there were drawbacks to going there (asbestos falling from the ceiling and the fact that I never once had a math teacher who could make me understand geometry), homophobia was not one of them.

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I don’t know what I expected the Castro to be like outside the windows of my family’s minivan, but it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

But, of course, old habits die hard.“Mark, gay is forever, right?

” my mom will sometimes ask me, somehow blocking out the fact that I’ve been in a committed relationship for the past six years.“Yes, forever.” I tell her.“Just checking,” she’ll say.

I sat next to her and asked her the time, and before I knew it, I was telling her I was gay. At first, I told my friends that I was attracted to people, not genders, and then I feigned surprise that most of these people were usually (always) male. But before I officially came out at school, I had been fairly homophobic myself.

“It’s not like I planned this,” I told my friend Jukey as we walked home from a play we had just seen at Lincoln High School one night. In the 10th grade I told an openly gay classmate to “keep his fag mouth shut” (and then felt bad about it for the rest of the year).

And considering how much she’s had to evolve to understand and accept who I am, I really can’t blame her.