Beauty and the Beast had a special draw for me as a child (let’s be real, it still does along with the rest of Disney). It was the first movie that I saw in theaters (unless you count my mom going to see Steel Magnolias when she was pregnant with me). But this story of love was so powerful to me. Ask any of my family members and they can tell you about the Beauty and the Beast poster that is still hanging in my bedroom at my grandparents’ house.
Surely liking Beauty and the Beast does not mean much, though. But it became fairly evident to me that most of the things that I were drawn to were not what the prevailing culture had deemed appropriate for little boys. I knew—let’s be clear that I certainly did not have the language for this as a 3 year old—that I was queer. Read More