I’ll admit it: I look good in soft pink and powder blue and creamy yellow — it must be my pasty-white Nebraska skin that reflects those colors back into the world that makes me look truly alive instead of ghostly-dead. When I grew up in Nebraska, men who wore pink or pastels or creams were men who were secure in their sexuality and unafraid of being stereotyped by other straight men and women as “on-the-fence” or “in-the-opposite-mix.” Growing up in Nebraska you didn’t have many Gay people who were “out” because it was dangerous to do so back then.

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