Someone's Precious Child by Jayne Magee

By Jayne  
   It was Valentine's Day of 2002. My youngest son, Galen, called me on the phone to wish me a happy Valentine's Day.  As we were talking, he burst out in an excited manner, "Mom, I'm in love.  I've never been so happy!  His name is Alex."  My initial joy quickly turned to confusion.  Since Alex can be the name of a boy or a girl, I tried to quell my panic.  Taking a deep breath, I plunged in, "Galen, are you trying to tell me that you are gay?"  

     "Oh Mom, you always knew that," was his light and cheerful response to my question.

     "Not really," I replied and quickly made up an excuse to get off the phone ASAP and call my husband.

     Galen was not entirely off base with his comment that Gary and I should have realized that he was gay.  Galen was my youngest child.  He and his brother were only 13 months apart--Irish Twins as some people liked to refer to them.  He was an adorable baby with a head of curly hair, big dimples, and green eyes.  Like my previous two children, he also had been born at home, so I knew that they had not given me the wrong baby in the hospital!  From about the age of three, my husband and I noticed that he was "different."  He preferred to play with his sisters and draw pictures.  The girls had plastic toys called Fashion Plates that they could use to design clothes for their dolls.  Galen loved to play with those and also his sisters' dollhouses.  In fact, his older sister would deliberately put an item in  a certain spot in her dollhouse just to see if Galen was sneaking in there to play while she was in school.  Needless to say, he got caught and punished nearly every day.  He wanted a Barbie doll, but I tried to steer him towards GI Joe.  My younger brother had the old-fashioned GI Joe doll from the 1960s, which was the size of a Barbie doll and had a complete military wardrobe and lots of cool gadgets.  Reluctantly, Galen would play with GI Joe in our presence.  On his own, he would sneak into his sisters' room and play with Barbie. He especially liked the Barbie spa set.  Contrast this with my other son, who like his father, loved to hunt and fish and play sports.  Galen also played soccer and baseball, however, not by his choice.  My husband made him play on a sports team.  Galen would stand on the field and daydream, pick flowers, and generally blow off any ball that came his way.

     When it came time for Galen to go to school, he was excited to join his older siblings.  However, his excitement and joy quickly turned to disappointment and fear.  Not only did he not have a single male friend throughout grade school, he also got picked on mercilessly. One boy in particular tormented Galen on the bus daily.  Finally, Galen got fed up and smacked this kid with his umbrella.  Then he proceeded to walk to school for the rest of the year, rather than ride the bus and get picked on daily.

     In junior high school, Galen decided he wanted to "be popular,"  so he joined the band.  Since he could not play an instrument, he pushed a rolling clothes rack onto the field that contained the lid to a garbage can, sticks, chains, and other crazy looking noise makers.  He was a huge hit and got his wish to be noticed and to be admired.  He dated in high school, but he also made the prom gown for his date his senior year. 

     In addition to always being different, Galen has also been very creative.  He was held back in kindergarten because instead of doing his worksheets in class, he drew full-size portraits of his teacher.   He loved to build dollhouses as a hobby and decorate them.  In sixth grade, he asked for a subscription to Architectural Digest for his birthday.  He started to tell us that he was going to move to New York City and become an interior designer.  To which my husband would reply, "So you want to be an architect.  Great!"  Galen would reply, "No, Dad.  I want to be an interior designer."    For his senior project in high school, he put on a fashion show of his own designs, which he sewed with the help of some friends.  He got permission to use the high school auditorium, and it was packed with family and friends.  We were so proud of his talent.  Did we think at that point that he might be gay?  Absolutely not.  He couldn't be.  We were part of a very rigid Christian church, one in which homosexuality was considered to be "an abomination" in God's eyes.  Homosexuals, unless they chose to be celibate, were going to Hell.  That was certainly not a fate I would choose for my baby!  So denial was the name of the game for Gary and I.

     Galen was very adventurous, and he was a risk taker.  At age 18, he left our small hometown in rural Pennsylvania for the Big Apple to begin college at The Fashion Institute of Technology in Manhattan.  He loved the city and quickly made friends.  Unbeknownst to my husband and I, he also embarked on a dangerous lifestyle that included drugs, alcohol, and unprotected sex.  It would be many years before those chickens came home to roost for us.  After his graduation from college, he worked for many different companies.  His talent and creative knew no bounds.  However, his risky habits always resulted in Galen eventually getting fired or "let go" for no apparent reason.  He claimed that his bosses didn't like him because they were jealous of his talent or too crazy or they were "middle-aged neurotic women."  Still, my husband and I were in denial about his drug use and alcohol abuse.  There were numerous occasions when Galen would bottom out, run out of money, and come home for a spell.  In actuality, he was drying out, getting a clear head before heading  back to New York City for more of the same.  This happened over and over and over again.  Of course, he was using the drugs and alcohol to numb the pain of being rejected by the faith that he so dearly embraced.  Eventually, it caused a huge strain on our marriage.  I ended up having to get counseling to learn how to draw the lines and put boundaries between Galen and I. 

     The last time Galen came home to live, three years ago, he got a DUI.   This was his first.  He had a choice between going to jail or boot camp.  He chose weekend boot camp.  During this weekend, he finally admitted to the group that he had an addiction problem.  It was the first time in his life that Galen actually took responsibility for his own actions.  Shortly thereafter, he decided to return one more time to New York City.  We begged him not to go.  We didn't think he was ready.  However, as usual he didn't listen to us.  So off he went. As my husband dropped him off at Hopkins Airport, his last words to were, "This time make it work!"

     This time it was different for Galen.  This time Galen made the choice to reinvent himself.  When he returned to the City, his best friend was also in recovery.  Peter took Galen to his first AA meeting, and Galen has been going to at least one meeting a day, every day since then.  He has had many jobs in fashion design since he returned to New York.  Some were successes; some were not.  He still has a hard time keeping a job.  However, this time in order to make money, he also reinvented himself as a host at a local Mexican restaurant.  Working for minimum wage has been quite humbling for Galen.  He was used to making $50 an hour as a freelance fashion designer.  However, in order to make his rent--and for the first time NOT ask Gary and I for money--Galen worked like a dog in the restaurant and learned to do whatever they told him to do without complaining.  So far, he hasn't gotten fired.  Next week they want him to start working nights in the hat check portion of the bar.  This he is nervous about.  He is not sure he can be around that much temptation.  Finally, he is realizing that it may be time for him to leave New York City, which has been his security blanket for over ten years, and strike out on his own by creating his own fashion line.  He has a vision to create a line of chic, beautiful, and affordable clothing for Plus Size Women.  Now he just needs to find a backer, so he can get some samples made and show them to vendors. 

     Galen's creativity and talent have inspired me to learn to spin wool into yarn on an old-fashioned spinning wheel, dye my own yarn, and knit gifts for my family and friends.  His specialty is knitwear, so we often exchange patterns and ideas.  His eye for color and texture have taught me what makes a unique and beautiful garment.  I look forward to helping Galen jump start his new business when I retire.  We all know how important writing is to any successful career!

     As you can see, Gary and I couldn't be prouder of our youngest son.  In a family plagued by three generations of drug and alcohol abuse, he has made a decision to end the cycle.  Needless to say, Gary and I have had to drastically change many strongly-held perceptions that we held about homosexuality.  For many years, I believed that being gay was a choice and that gay people could be "healed" or "changed."  Based on my own experiences with my Irish Twins, I know without a doubt that Galen was born this way.  Recent studies have proven this to be the case, and gayness seems to occur more frequently after the birth of several male children in a row.  I have a dear friend who has three sons, and her youngest son, a doctor, is also gay.  Because of my beliefs, I can no longer attend any church that preaches about gays ending up in Hell.  I know that God created my son, just as he is, with all of his amazing gifts and talents and with all of his flaws and weaknesses.  If  don't want my son to be judged, I  can't judge other people. When I hear people talking about why gays shouldn't be allowed to marry, it breaks  my heart.  My desire for my sons, both gay and straight, is the right to legal protection under the law as a spouse in a loving and committed relationship, children, and a long and healthy life.  So if you are one of those people who make fun of gay people or fear them or hate them, just remember that she or he is someone's precious child.