Becoming Bryan---by Bryan Franks

This is the story of how I became Bryan and the days that followed. How my life shifted never to be the same and no, not necessarily for the better.

I was twenty-nine years old and I realized I had formed no lasting relationships outside of my family. My relationship with my family was not close, so I was pretty much on my own with no friends or support system. I decided to do something about it. I looked for and found a gay “rap” group, that would be called a support group today. Not an easy task in a very conservative 1980's, San Bernardino, California., but there it was, a small group of men and women like myself that were looking to connect and share. It was the summer of 1984 and I would turn thirty years old in August. The reality of turning thirty was my motivation to become normal and happy, or at least begin the process. 

The group was very welcoming and after a few visits, a guy named Rick started paying attention to me and finally invited me to his house for a meal, or was it to watch a movie on this new fangled video machine he had just purchased. I never left that night and the relationship lasted a record ten months. That was close to ten years in “gay time” back then. Just kidding, but yes, gay men were not as inclined in those days to nest. 

During our time together, I shared with him that I hated the name I shared with my father. He just out of the blue said, you're a Bryan. I believed him and accepted the gift. I had first tried to re-name myself at the age of eight with the help of my Mom and a neighbor lady, a friend of my Mom’s. I had been called “Junior”, at that time and hated it. I was not even a true Junior, my Dad's middle name was different. Being Junior was just a convenience for my parents. They were pushing for Calvin, my middle name, but I settled on dropping Junior and adopting instead my legal first name, Harold. A name I grew to hate, especially when Bill Cosby coopted it for one of his twisted comedy bits. I never felt I owned my name. It would not have been so bad if my Dad had been a nice person, someone I could look up to, but he was not.

So now in 1984, thanks to Rick I was now Bryan and finally had something that looked like a relationship with another guy. But it would not last. I was working at the Orange Mall in Orange, California, at Slavick’s Jeweler and had a long drive to San Bernardino each night after work. On the nights we had rap group, Rick would be there and I would arrive about the time it was ending and we, most of the group, would go out to eat. Well, one of the women one night came out into the parking lot and told me she thought he was paying too much attention to another guy. It turned out to be true and he confessed and blamed me for being at work too much. I was as devastated as you might imagine, but it didn’t end there. 

One night on the way home on the 91 freeway, I was hit from behind by a large vehicle, maybe a semi, that also hit another car causing those occupants significant injury. I got off with a couple bumps a strained neck and back and a totaled car. 

Rick was already in a relationship by then with the other guy, but still living with me, it was his apartment. They slept in the bedroom, me on the couch in the living room. Anyway, when I went to the doctor for my post-accident injuries I asked the doctor, a friend of the family, to run an HIV test. It came back positive. 

I had to tell Rick. I’m still reeling from the breakup and the accident and now this. He, of course, was only concerned about his status and my doctor agreed to do a confidential test, as he had done for me, not reporting it, as was his duty. Rick’s was negative, much to his relief. He moved out of the apartment in short order and left me with a new name, that expensive DVR and a fish aquarium as consolation prizes. I guess he did feel a little guilty.

So now, I had a new name, a past relationship and a new status to start a new chapter in my life, otherwise known as my thirties. 

Stay tuned for the story about hypnosis and an injured pigeon, that gave me the courage to live, after going through all of that; Well, at least for a while.

a-while-vs-awhile

https://www.thetrevorproject.org

Bryan


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