My mom asked me one day at lunch in a very lovely and respectful way. I was finally comfortable enough to say yes, I was gay, and it really was never talked about again.

A friend of my mom's was a casting director so, really as kind of a lark, I had a couple of acting jobs that had just enough exposure to give me the option to continue if I wanted to. I followed through with it.

Mom gives me advice every single day, about how I'm not eating regularly enough, not sleeping enough, that I need to look after my skin, I shouldn't colour my hair, my eyebrows are too thin, etc. Most of her advice I discard, especially the thin eyebrows part.

I was fortunate enough to make it to where I want to be. There could be other kids as talented or more talented than me in whatever they want to be but don't have the resources to pursue their dream. Maybe they have to get a job instead to help their mom with the bills.

I got into acting as a young child on account of a sort of arbitrary thing. A friend of my mom's was a casting director, so really, as kind of a lark, I had a couple of acting jobs that had just enough exposure to give me the option to continue if I wanted to. I followed through with it.

The house was big enough for my brother and me to have firecracker wars at one end and leave Mom and Dad undisturbed at the other. When firecrackers weren't available, we attacked each other with pennies and marbles and clumps of Crisco, which made brilliant greasy asterisks when you missed and hit the wall.

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