Статья в журнале People. Осторожно, спойлер к книге

http://community.livejournal.com/weirsjohnny/138656....

It's not exactly a shocker. Figure skater Johnny Weir--he of the swan costume, Lady Gaga routines and broad hints (he's called himself "an effeminate person" who "likes sparkly things")--admits in his new memoir, Welcome to My World, that he is gay. But why now, when the 26-year-old Weir, who finished sixth at last year's Olympics, has for so long resisted defining his sexuality? "I've never felt the need before," he tells PEOPLE's Rennie Dyball. "Why come out of the closet when you've never really lived in one? But I didn't want a reporter to do it for me." Currently taking a year off from competing (but still eyeing the 2014 Olympics), he says he also wrote his book partly to help others: "With people killing themselves and being scared into the closet, I hope that even just one person can gain strength from my story." In an exclusive excerpt, Weir describes his journey from "very weird" kid growing up in Quarryville, Pa., to gender-bending skating phenom.

When I was little people often mistook me for a girl because I liked to wear my hair long. But if anyone suggested I cut it, my mom always replied, "If that's how Johnny likes his hair, that's all that matters."

My mother loved fashion. She taught me about style, Dad about effort. What they gave me together was respect--for other people but also for myself. My parents never made me feel odd, even though I definitely didn't act like all the other kids. That's why I believed in myself.

Weir's first love was horses, but after a couple of years as a competitive equestrian, he became interested in skating.

My parents bought me a pair of beat-up black skates from our local used sporting goods store, after the images of Kristi Yamaguchi winning gold in the 1992 Winter Olympics sparked my fancy. My family always got Olympic fever during the winter games. That year Kristi was a revelation, all steely confidence and extravagant costumes.

Once he hit the ice, he was hooked, and when he was 11 the Weir family moved to Delaware to support his training.

The ice rink was a haven where I made friends who made me feel comfortable. It stood in stark contrast to life outside. It didn't take long for the other middle school students to find out that I was a skater and begin calling me "homo" or "faggot." But I was strong enough to take that sort of thing.

Watching Richard Gere in Pretty Woman at the tender age of six was when I had first realized there was something different about me. I wanted to be Julia Roberts so badly. Kissing seemed like a weird thing to do, but I knew if I was going to do it, it would be with Richard Gere.

By puberty, I knew that I was gay. But I didn't worry about it much. As a serious skater, I was way too busy. Then, when I was 16, I had my first kiss with a boy.

He and the boy, a fellow skater, began a casual, clandestine relationship. Soon after his 18th birthday, Weir decided to come out to his mom.

I waited until one night after my dad had gone to sleep (my dad is a cool guy but homosexuality is completely foreign to him and not something I was ready to throw in his face).

"Mom, adult to adult, I need to tell you something. I'm gay." Suddenly it felt like I was sitting in the room with a stranger, and this was my mom, my best friend. She started to cry. I wasn't angry. No mother wants to hear her son say he's gay. Those two words rip the picture of a daughter-in-law and grandchildren into pieces. I felt sorry for my mom and wanted her to know that everything was going to be all right.

"I don't really care, Johnny, as long as I know that you are going to be happy," she said. Suddenly I felt this great freedom. It's not an issue for the rest of my family and they don't ask any questions, which I consider a blessing.