Here’s My Story

HERE’S MY STORY is a new feature on The G&LR’s website, where you can share some part of your life story with other readers. We receive a lot of submissions of personal memoirs, but the magazine doesn’t publish first-person narratives as a general rule. “Here’s My Story” is a space that allows our readers (and others) to talk about their experiences as members of the LGBT+ community. There are no restrictions on subject matter, but some broad areas might include:

  • Coming-out stories
  • Memorable love affairs
  • An epiphany (e.g. a work of art)

Click here to submit a proposal or an article (< 1,000 words, please) for publication. Also include a photo or two that could be included with the piece, as well as a pic of yourself and a short bio.

We will help you with editing as required.

Here's My Story View all

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My first haircut in Michael’s apartment culminated in him seducing me and giving me a blowjob. It was amazing, but it left me even guiltier than before. I not only had thoughts and desires, I had now succumbed to them.

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I was elated to find my first love in the disability LGBT space—another blind man named Frank. It happened after chores on a Sunday. Skype rang. My screen reader, through…More

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“A Gay Wedding?” I asked Gerd in German. It was late April; we had just ordered our suits – comparable blue ones, mine blue with a silver vest and his blue gray – and we were discussing plans for our July wedding in our apartment in Berlin where we had lived together for the past four months.

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I debate with myself, back and forth, for a week, and now I have to choose one photograph to give to the designer. All three elegant black and white photos in front of me are beautiful shots with lovely dramatic lighting, great contrast. …

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Virginia Beach in the 1960’s was a genuinely exotic, if earthbound, destination long before exploding into the garish paved-over Virginia Beach of today. Even with incursions of asphalt and neon it resembled such pleasant gray-shingled venues as Cape Cod or the Hamptons.

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We struggled emotionally after my father’s sudden death and we were destitute financially. A few years later my mother became sexually active with other men.
What I didn’t realize or appreciate at the time was that my struggles at home, and especially around mum’s sexual adventures, were heightened by the confused feelings I had towards men.

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Paul wanted to see crazy layering, pants under skirts, t-shirts over button downs, suit jackets with cargo pants. “Mix it up, mix it up,” Paul would say. He was like an annoying bald parrot.

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At that moment, looking into his sad, ancient eyes filled with vintage mascara, I realized that Quentin Crisp must be the loneliest man I had ever met. His deep melancholy was only exceeded by the abject bitterness he had learned to temper with acerbic wit and self-depreciating humor.

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