Yes, I am gay


Kyerra Snyder

Carter Jones posing with basketball and football helmet.

Carter Jones, Journalist

I’m Carter Jones. Yes, I’m gay, I’m pretty sure it’s old news by now. For most of my life I was convinced I was a normal, straight, human being but as it turns out, I am the fruitiest person I know, or anyone knows at that. Now I’m not saying I’m gonna be on the next season of RuPaul’s Drag Race, but you’ll catch me watching that show from time to time. If you could playback my whole childhood on video, you could pick out many things that foreshadow me eventually coming out as gay. From enjoying when my sister dressed me up as the most beautiful princess, to jamming out to who would eventually become my idol, Britney Spears, with my mom. Looking back on all of it, I don’t know why most people were surprised when I came out as gay.

I get asked the same question by straight guys a lot, “Carter, how do you know you like guys?” My answer is always the same, “how do you know you like girls?” My sexuality shouldn’t define me, my sometimes annoying and overwhelming personality should. I’m my dad’s only biological child so he wanted the stereotypical father-son relationship with me growing up. It was a little difficult for him to raise me as a single father. But he did something right because I turned out to be decent I guess. As a kid he used to put me in activities that were beyond the average gay person’s understanding, also known as “sports.” The downside to sports for me is that I never understand how they work: what are the positions, rules, etc.? When I do understand the sport, I’m not even good at it. So, what’s the point of even playing?

I played hockey for a little while, which I hated. I could never stand up straight with skates on, I guess it was a life lesson saying I can’t keep anything straight in my life, not even my sexuality. Every time I had practices or anything I would instantly become flooded with an enormous amount of boredom and go have random conversations with the girl coaches while everyone was practicing.

I feel like girls are the only people who understand me for the most part. We both like shopping, gossip, pop music, skin care products, and of course, men. Girls are just amazing and smart, I mean yeah they can be moody sometimes

but I can be moody back to them and it’s the equivalent of two girls having a cat fight.

Anyways, back to the topic at hand, I hate sports. I played basketball in my later years of elementary school. I don’t know who convinced me or how they convinced me to play such a mediocre sport. My parents loved it, but did I? Absolutely not. I eventually quit. Maybe sports just aren’t my thing.

Boy Scouts wasn’t either. Yes, I did Boy Scouts, but I eventually quit that too, because I was too fed up with camping and being friends with boys. My dad just wanted me to grow up like he did and eventually become an Eagle Scout but, camping in the cold, tying stupid knots, and cutting things isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.

I officially came out to my dad in the 8th grade at the age of 14. It wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do, it was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I could tell he was in denial because the first thing he asked was, “do you think it’s because your mom made you like that?” No, the only contribution she made to me being gay is that she caught me up all the gay culture. Nobody can make you gay, maybe I was born with it or maybe it’s Maybelline, no one knows for sure but what I do know is that being gay is probably the best blessing that could ever be given to me. I love when girls tell me to rate boys from 1 to 10, or when a Britney song comes on and everyone darts their head in my direction because they know Britney is my thing. Before I sashay away I’d like to say one thing, you can love anyone you want to and don’t let other people define who you are.