I grew up in a lot of places. I lived in West Virginia until I was 8. Then we moved to Columbus, Ohio for a year or so, and then to a suburb of Chicago for another 8 years. Then, when I was a senior, we moved back to Cincinnati, Ohio and I was there through college. Right after college I left home and went to live in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. I lived there for a couple of years. I went to Europe to model for a while and then returned to Ft. Lauderdale. Then I moved to New York and then to L.A. And that’s where I met everybody.
My childhood wasn’t pleasant. Up until age 7, everything seemed OK. But at that point, for some reason, I started feeling trapped and not enjoying my surroundings. My mother was very stressed all the time, and my father was not around physically and not very nurturing emotionally. I didn’t know my father very well, he was just the guy that came home late from work or from traveling. Both of my parents were over-extended emotionally.
There were six kids. Five boys and one girl. We were all very different. We didn’t really relate to each other. It was more just an animal thing… whoever was the strongest -- ruled. I happened to be the strongest. My older brother’s strength was his intellect. His body was more frail and his personality was difficult and reclusive. He just hibernated in his room. It was left to me to create some kind of stability in the home. I cleaned the house and took care of the kids. I just tried to help my mother… because she wasn’t really capable. So I tried to help, -- behind the scenes. When she went to the grocery story, I’d clean the house or do the laundry and when she came home I would hide… it was always hard for me to accept any sort of acknowledgment, but I’d hear her go.. “Oh!” when she saw what I had done. It was always hard for me to accept any sort of demonstrations of love. My parents never hugged or kissed -- never really showed us affection -- so I never knew how to handle it. It was very awkward. Someone simply singing Happy Birthday to me… yuck… it would send me right through the ceiling.
We were Roman Catholic. I went to catholic school until 8th grade and did the whole altar boy thing. I had all the little religious statues and holy cards… and was very much into it. Anything that was stable and had rules, I liked. Because at the house it was anarchy. Anything that tried to maintain some kind of order, I clung to. So I loved the church. Most of the sermons went in one ear and out the other. But first communion sent me into a state that was like an initiation to me. I have a picture of myself and I look at it and can remember the picture being taken and what I was feeling. It was like it was an initiation. I was only 7, but I was fully aware of that. I had a beautiful relationship with God. I didn’t really relate to Jesus much. But God I related to. The first catholic school I went to was really strict. Really severe. It was a free catholic school in West Virginia… and the nuns had come over from Russia. I didn’t go to Kindergarten because I had Osgood Slaughter’s disease (where there is a problem when you grow too fast). I had a limp and got diagnosed with it and had to stay down for 3 months. So I missed Kindergarten. So my first school was first grade with this crazy nun… Sister Mary Mary… I dressed as her one year for Halloween. She was a really hateful woman. Really prejudiced with some really bizarre ideas. She scared all of us to death. Kids would pee in their desks because they were scared to raise their hands to go to the bathroom. She ruled by fear. When we lived in Chicago, it was much better. The church was really progressive. I remember a lot of the nuns there had to give up the habit because they got too progressive in their thinking.
I went to college and got my Bachelor of Science in Industrial Design. I had a B average I think.. which for me is a big accomplishment. I have dyslexia so reading and comprehension were always hard for me. There are certain books I can read and absorb right away, there are some that I was introduced to while I was doing the spiritual thing and I could suck it up like a sponge. But if it’s something I’m not interested in… or if the author has a weird way of expressing himself… it takes me forever to get through it. I’m intelligent but I just have some weak spots in the learning process. I think a lot of how I got through school was just being well-mannered and attractive. Catholic teachers loved that so they kind of shuffled me through.
My family was odd. The three youngest kids all seem pretty together. They’re all married with kids. But the first three all seem to have some issues. My older brother and I were gay (but neither of us knew about each other back then.) Then the brother under me.. he was the bad boy to my good boy. He was into drugs, a hell-raiser… lots of fights, screwed a lot of girls but never got married. Now he’s 46 and living with my mother. As a child, he was sexually abused by my uncle (who lived with HIS mother his whole life.) It’s disturbing to me that my brother’s life is mimicking my uncle’s now. I think with me, because I didn’t see my mom and dad hug or kiss or anything, I thought sex could be put on the back burner. That I could just ignore it. In fact with the whole Catholic thing, it was like, “Does anybody really have sex?” My understanding now is that it’s really an important part of every healthy ego.
