Adam alexander nathaniel david james anderson

Adam A's picture

THIS IS A RECORD OF THE COMING TO BE OF A HOMOSEXUAL. RECORDS LIKE THIS HAVE EXISTED ALL THROUGH HISTORY, BUT HAVE BEEN SUBJECT TO CENSORSHIP, HAVE BEEN SUBJECT TO DESTRUCTION, TO CULTURAL CLEANSING, VANDALISM AND ORAL ALTERATION AS WELL AS PERSECUTION AND SUPPRESSION.

BUT I, ADAM ALEXANDER NATHANIEL DAVID JAMES ANDERSON, BORN ON THE 9TH OF FEBRUARY, 1998 IN ISRAEL, THE HOLY LAND, WILL NOT BE SILENCED, I WILL NOT STAND BY AND LET SOCIETY KILL ME, I WILL FIGHT FOR MY RIGHT TO EXIST. THROUGH THE SWEAT AND BLOOD, WHICH I GIVE WHOLEHEARTEDLY, I WILL BE HEARD.

I AM A SINGLE VOICE REPRESENTING MASSES OF PEOPLE. WE ARE RIDDEN WITH FEAR, WE ARE RIDDEN WITH GUILT AND SHAME, BUT IT SHOULD NOT BE THIS WAY.

My autobiography is one which can be examined in a traditional or intellectual and emotive sense. In my case, an intellectual approach is inseparable from an emotive one, for the most substantial part of my life has been one run by powerful, incapacitating emotion. My life can be examined from the day I was born, but to know that, all you will find is an introduction to my life, a life that truly began on the thirteenth of March 2001, when I was thirteen years old, in grade eight. On this day I was diagnosed with type one diabetes.

Apart from the obvious consequences of acquiring this disease, I acquired an ability to explore my psyche in a way I never have before, it was deep and powerful, it was scrupulous, it allowed me to learn details about myself that I never even took the time to step back and appreciate.

Taking time to settle into my painful new routine of four needles a day, a blood test every three months and multiple finger prickings, I slowly regained my life, one which now felt as it being alive was an unnatural act of suppressing death, one in which I was fighting against the obvious will of God. After about six months, my attention turned to a girl, a girl I went to primary school with, a girl named ELIZA MARTIN. Foolishly unaware of myself (although I was catching up), I mistook our fast growing, strengthening and intimate relationship for love, and by grade nine, I decided that her and I were an item, and thus began to date her. As we were dating, I noticed an odd fact.

I had been with Eliza for about two weeks, but as of yet, although I loved her with everything that was in me, I had not felt any kind of sexual attraction to her. Also, I noticed that I’d often find myself looking curiously at other males. The thought had never crossed my mind, but it was blatantly obvious, I was a homosexual, not bisexual, not anything else, I was and still am a man who is only attracted to other, masculine men.
Almost immediately I conjured an excuse to break up with Eliza, I believe it was something abut her believing too much gossip that her friend Candice was spreading about me, which although true, was not the real reason why I broke up with her, and it hurt me greatly to do so. Eliza took to it rather well though, at least I think she did, and for about six months, I spent every night crying, contemplating suicide and using my ability for self-exploration to understand my “condition