When your upbringing is a wealthy brew of Catholicism, Baptism, and evangelical summer camps, all played out against the patriarchal backdrop of Alabama, your intense attraction to other teen girls is best buried deep.
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Illustrations by Sarah Larnach
When I used to be 12, at an all girls’ Christian summer camp in North Carolina, I got my first gay crush. She had silky black hair and almond eyes and a smile that split me open. The primary time I saw her, we were within the dining hall. There was something concerning the way she took up the entire pitch-sized hall – her skin electric, outweighing the scale and sound...
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