When Jurassic Park stomped into theaters 25 years ago, it changed pop culture. The film’s massive box office run left it the #2 highest-grossing film of all time behind Steven Spielberg’s other film-redefining hit E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial, a record Jurassic Park held until Star Wars was rereleased a few years later. The film–half a study in ethics starring indie character actors, half pure special effects spectacle that somehow still looks better than a lot of today’s computer-crafted creatures–was a true phenomenon. Not only did it usher in the CG era, it introduced a generation or two to the mad brilliance of Jeff Goldblum and the the awestruck wonder of Laura Dern. Jurassic Park ruled the summer of 1993 (and it also ruled the fall, and also whenever it hit VHS, and also whenever it made its TV debut, etc.). It changed lives–and oh yes, it changed my life in one very specific way, even if it took me another decade-plus to figure that out.

We all remember our first celebrity crushes. It’s a hot question that pops up as a hashtag every now and then, because the combo of nostalgia, wide-eyed innocence, and purity of heart is irresistible. With Jurassic Park turning 25 today, that means that today is also the 25th anniversary of my first major, long-lasting celebrity crush. I was a month shy of 9 when Jurassic Park hit theaters, and I obviously had no idea what a crush was and definitely did not know what I was in for. I just wanted to see the movie because I was totally obsessed with dinosaurs! I had no idea that I’d leave the theater with a totally new obsession.

And then I saw him.

Dr. Alan Grant, Sam Neill, was my very first celebrity crush–and it crushed me like a neon green Jeep under a T. rex’s foot. Except I had no idea that’s what I was feeling, because I (somehow!) would not piece it together that I am a gay man for another twelve years. I should have known I was gay the instant I saw Sam Neill in Jurassic Park. I was totally smitten with this grumpy, child-hating paleontologist, and he quickly became one of my all-time favorite heroes–except…there was something else going on, too.

At the time, I loved Han Solo, Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, and pretty much any iteration of Robin Hood (but specifically Kevin Costner, because Prince of Thieves is the best movie that you should definitely not rewatch). But Alan Grant was different. The baseline bare minimum definition of a crush is “a person whose face you like looking at,” and lordy how I liked Alan Grants face. I remember staring, transfixed for then-unknown reasons, at pictures of Alan Grant in every tie-in book I added to my collection. I suddenly had an affinity for the name “Alan,” and it’s the name I chose for myself in schoolyard games of pretend. I remember being incredibly angry about the Jurassic Park action figures because Dr. Grant’s looked nothing like him. A short-sleeve blue turtleneck and no neckerchief?! The nerve! But this crush didn’t go away when dino-mania died down, and my crush on Alan Grant revealed itself to really be a crush… on Sam Neill.

Oh hello there, Sam! I didn’t know you’d be in the 1994 live-action Jungle Book sporting a glorious mustache. And there you were again, in 1999’s Bicentennial Man, standing side-by-side with a Robin Williams robot. The crush even extended to movies my teen-aged self could not see (or was really too afraid to see), like 1997’s Event Horizon. But you better believe I enjoyed watching those commercials! And I probably should have found a way to watch Event Horizon sooner, because he spends a chunk of the first act running around shirtless (although by the end Sam gouges his eyes out so, y’know, pros and cons).

I spent years transfixed by Sam Neill, my very first celebrity crush, but only now, 25 years later, do I really have the words to put to those feelings I hella felt. Being a churchgoing kid in the South meant that a trip to an actual Jurassic Park was more likely to happen than a trip outside the closet I was locked in. I hear so many gay men talk about their first crushes, which they actually knew were crushes. Even if they knew they couldn’t risk an act as bold as gluing a teen magazine cover to their social studies binder, they at least knew what they were feeling. I didn’t. I couldn’t!

So I didn’t get to hang up Alan Grant posters in my bedroom or tear out pictures from magazines to tape up in my locker; I had to do all the typical teen crush stuff with Sheryl Crow and Sarah Michelle Gellar, two individuals with nowhere near the amount of smirky, smoldering sex appeal of Sam Neill.

But all that’s changed now. I know I’m gay, and have for almost 13 years. I’m married to a man, even! A future that was once less real than genetically-engineered dinos is now alive and thriving! And obviously, my love for Sam Neill is legit stronger than ever. If you ever wonder if it’s possible to love a celeb more, discovering their delightfully goofy social media page will definitely do the trick. I’m saying, Sam Neill is a master of Instagram.

And now as an out and proud adult, I can look back at Jurassic Park and fully appreciate it on every level, even the levels that were encased in heteronormative amber 25 years ago.

Alan Grant is sexy, period. The man knows how to accessorize, pairing a totally average denim and khaki combo with a dashing fedora and jaunty-yet-practical neckerchief. I know I know–Ian Malcolm is who the culture has singled out as JP’s sex symbol, and Alan Grant gets nothing even close to that gloriously lingering beefcake shot of Malcolm spread out with his shirt wide open. But so what? He doesn’t need it (although, I mean, it wouldn’t have hurt, Spielberg). Alan’s sexiness is all in the eyes, the nod of his head, and the crinkle of his wry smile.

He’s a reluctant action hero and a totally unlikely father figure, but he rises to the occasion. Admirable. He’s a guy so emotionally invested in dinosaurs that seeing one IRL almost caused him to black out. Adorable. He’s a guy that knows it’s perfectly fine to make fun of a kid if you just saved his life (“Big Tim, the human piece of toast”). Hilarious. He’s a guy that came face to face with a T. rex and stood his ground! Brave!

I’ve always had impeccable taste in men, just saying.

I loved Alan Grant 25 years ago and I still love him today, and my quarter century crush on Sam Neill has been time very well spent (I mean, how can you not love this goof?). Why the Jurassic franchise hasn’t reunited National Treasures Laura Dern, Jeff Goldblum, and Sam Neill again, it mystifies me. But you know what? Twenty-five years after obliviously-closeted kid-me was overwhelmingly disappointed by Alan Grant’s action figure, proudly-gay adult-me now has movie-accurate Alan Grant figures watching him write this heartfelt celebration of the sexiest paleontologist of all time.

Life finds a way.

Where to watch Jurassic Park