Note: This entry was originally posted on May 20, 2005 on xanga.com. I will be converting some of those blogs to myspace.com because no one is one xanga, and I'm wasting four bucks a month on it. I touched this one up a bit with some minor grammar changes and coherency editing. Do bear in mind this was almost a year ago.

It's debatable if I like blogs or not.

It is a medium I find interesting, if not to say amusing. At the same time, it's a very public forum for what would normally be written in a journal or diary. Despite that, I think it's definitely a good environment for writing. So, I guess I will start to some degree. I make no promises how many posts I will make, or how often I will update it.

I suppose, though, that is part of the fun.

Seeing as this is somewhat of a public forum, I will say a bit about myself.

My name is Heath, I am a 29 year caucasian gay male living in Tulsa, OK. I have a boyfriend/domestic partner of four years. His name is Peter and I enjoy him a lot. We have two cats, littermates, who are both delightful. As for myself, I am overweight, at 209 pounds, 5'7" tall, blue eyes, blondish hair. I am growing my hair out a bit and am enjoying its progress. I recently tried facial hair again with moderate to unimpressive results. It's hard to be 29 and unable to grow a full beard. In the same vein, though, I do like the fact that my skin is very fair and my looks still youthful.

I grew up in Idaho Falls, ID. I graduated from Idaho Falls High School in 1994. I didn't have many friends or social activities before I went to high school as I wasn't LDS. I grew up in the outlying town of Iona, which was predominantly LDS. I went to gradeschool at the local elementary, which was fine. I don't have too many complaints about that time. Junior high however, was a different matter. It was probably the roughest 2.5 to 3 years of my life. It's not surpising, though, knowing how cruel kids can be at that age. But I do feel I received more than my share of strife during that time.

I was and am, different. My brother, Jared, who is 26 and gay as well, is pretty much the same. Not only were we not LDS in a very LDS community, we were also, just flat out different -- different than our few non-Mormon peers.

My difference stemmed from my budding sense of individualism that I was adamant to express. I listened to different music, dressed different, talked different, acted different and had different interests. Non-conformity had, to some degree, become my staple.

Understanding that most of my peers at this time were listening to Guns N'Roses and wearing their hair in mullets, it was somewhat understandable that I attracted the ire of North Bonneville Junior High School's bullies. The problem was that it wasn't just one or two, but several.

Despite my inner strength and strong will, I had two disadvantages: I was not large for my age, nor strong, and I was gay. The former meant I was easily intimidated and the latter made me a mark, a target, in a community of intolerance that demanded conformity.

The usual insults which I'm sure I heard anywhere from 3 to 20 times a day ranged from "FAGGOT!" to "queer" to any other verbal insult of being gay. Although I was never in a fist fight all the way through junior high and highschool, I was spit on, kicked, hit in the back of the head, shoved, had things thrown at me, dogpiled and otherwise physically ridiculed on a regular basis.

I am not surprised this happened to me, though. And to some degree, being who I was at that place at that time, was enough to cause problems. But the biggest part of all of it wasn't the verbal or physical abuse, it was the way I had been raised.

Being an extraordinarily conscientious and sensitive kid, I didn't understand malice, anger, dislike or hatred until I became much older. I could no more conceive defending myself verbally or physically than I could explain quantum theory. (Ironically enough, if I had been given sufficient time, I probably could have done that latter, but never the former). Although I don't hold any ill will to them, my parents were partly to blame for this. However, I say that with the understanding that they didn't really do anything wrong, it was just more a lack of action.

Thus, being different, looking different, being gay, and to some degree acting gay, coupled with the fact that I never fought back, I became a primary target of anger and hostility for my entire class.

Retrospectively, the rub was that I didn't know any different. I thought that on some level, everyone was having as difficult a time as I was. Little did I know that that was untrue.

If I had to list any regrets, I wouldn't have many. One of the few I would have, though, is never bloodying the nose of a couple of my classmates. I think if I had done so it would have at least sent the message that I was not willing to take their abuse; and in the intensely animalistic social environment of junior high school, I think that is the best message I could have sent.

But I didn't. Which is way I am writing about it now, I imagine.

We all deal with things in our own way, and in our own time. I did what felt right for me to do. And even though I probably could have stood up for myself, or verbally defended mysel, I have to admit that I have a sense of pride for how I handled myself during that time.

I proved that you do not have to use violence to bring about a resolution. I proved that pity, understanding, and compassion are stronger than hatred, biggotry, and intolerance.

I still dream about bloodying Jason Beck's nose, though.

In rereading this entry, I feel compelled to point out how people's views can change, even over the course of a few months. I would never tolerate being treated like this now. Perhaps it's a bit more living, or a bit more attitude. I just don't see myself handling such a situation in the same way.