House Divided II: Coming out in the 1960's

My parents were good people - divorced and estranged but good to
me. My Mom raised my older brother and me in poverty, with a little help
from our Gramma. She worked hard, every day at two jobs to keep us
housed and fed. She had no time for my personal problems and needs. It
was up to me to be me and make the best of it. But she instilled in me a
strong work ethic and I did the best I could.
My Dad would sometimes take us on weekends to his middle-class
home in Hollywood, which he shared with his wife. My Dad was fun and
enjoyed doing fun things.
I remember when I was only nine, my Dad would pile everyone in the
car on Friday night and park on Hollywood Boulevard to watch the queers
walk by, sashaying effeminately and showing off their stuffed crotches. All
of us would chortle, guffaw, and leer at the freaks on parade. I enjoyed
this. At the time, I thought it was fun. I felt like a part of my family. I didn’t
realize then that I was one of those freaks. But, I felt it. This was the
beginning of my internalized homophobia - my House Divided.
So many LGBTQ people are divided inside between their true
LGBTQ selves and their homophobic straight selves. All of us grew up in
straight society, admiring straight men and jeering LGBTQ people. I have
the same internalized homophobia as all of us. Each of us is more or less
a House Divided.