I've been fortunate. I was raised in the Bay Area, one of the most liberal and accepting hubs of this country. Although I was in Colorado, a much more conservative environment than what I was used to in California, when I came out, all of my friends and family could not have been more supportive and accepting. My parents were more concerned about me moving further east than being a lesbian and when NYC legazlied gay marriage this past summer, I got text messages from each member of my family telling me that they loved me and were so happy for the exciting progress.

I have very little idea of what it is like to come out with the fear of being kicked out or disowned. Coming out in Colorado has burst my safety bubble however and I have experienced much discrimination being out in this state. The place where I encounter the most discrimination just so happens to be my place of employment.

I am a Literature Teacher at a treatment facility for at-risk youth and have been working with this population for three and a half years now. Not all of these students are homophobic, but many of these students often make homophobic and discriminatory remarks without hesitation. At first my tactics were to simply redirect the behavior and ask students to use less offensive words when expressing their feelings. Along these lines whenever a situation presented itself, I would make sure to try and educate the students about why saying remarks such as, 'that's so gay!' or 'that's so homo!' are not appropriate because being an educator I know the power of fighting ignorance with education. Not to make excuses for the student's offensive behaviors, but many of them have had little to no role modeling and as a result on some level they do not know better.

I was not in the closet at work, but I also didn't wear a badge that stated, "Hi my name is Mia and I'm a lesbian" either. One day however, when prompting my students about using appropriate and respectful language that does not put down an entire population of people, one of my students asked me, "are you gay?" and without thinking I responded, "yup I sure am."

Two days later I witnessed a pretty amazing incident in which a student was making homophobic statements in class and the student that had questioned my sexuality replied, "dude, don't say that! Those words are offensive!" I was completely stunned. Not only had he stood up against one of his peers, which rarely happens at my job, but he had also defended me in front of that peer. I pulled that student out of class and thanked him for standing up for me and for holding his peer accountable. This was truly one of the most meaningful moments of my teaching career to date.

Since this particular incident, I don't know if the support he gave me in turn gave me a new sense of confidence or if my anger has finally gotten the better of me; but whenever a student makes a disrespectful remark towards the GLTBQ community my response is this, "I'm gay, please don't disrespect me." It's been very interesting to watch student's reactions to my reponse, but mostly, the students redirect and move on. Sometimes I even get an apology haha.

There has been one more particular situation that has given me a sense of pride and strengthened my confidence about me and my homosexuality. In the year and a half that I have been working at this particular facility, there has been one student that has attended the school as a day treatment client for the entire time I have taught at the facility. This specific student has always been very open about disliking gay people, stating how perverted and disgusting they are and how they deserve to go to Hell. After working together for so long this student and I have a good, solid relationship. One day he made one of his notorious anti-gay comments and I looked at him in the eye and told him I was gay and would appreciate it if he would not disrespect me. His eyes grew wide and his mouth literally dropped. I didn't pay much attention and continued with my lesson. At the end of that day, he came up to me and gave me a hug and our relationship has been just as strong since it was before I came out to him. Furtheremore, whenever he begins to make a comment that sounds like it could be homophobic, he now catches himself before completing the remark. I can tell he is trying to change some of his habits.

As I stated earlier, I have no idea what it is like to come out initially to a family that may not be supportive and I know that one should only come out when he or she is ready and for no one but for him or herself. When I started coming out so bluntly to the students however, and even though I have been out for two years now, I still get nervous about the potential onslaught of disrespect, judgement and hate that can come from revealing my sexuality. At the end of the day I like who I am and I know not to take the student's hurtful words personal, but sometimes I can't help but be affected.

If I have learned one thing about coming out in the face of discrimination it is to be confident and proud about who I am, even if my confidence maybe faltering at the moment. I've observed and have been flat out told that because I am confident and not ashamed of who I am, even if people do not agree with my homosexuality, they respect me for being proud of who I am and for not hiding my true self. I love myself enough to be 100% true to who I am no matter what discrimination I may face. It has taken me a long time to get to this place of having such good relationship with myself, but I know all the hard work has been worth it.

It feels good to be able to face the fear of rejection of who I am and know that I am helping to open minds and challenge certain opinions. There is nothing wrong with being gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender or queer and no none of this is a choice. I know that when I encounter discrimination it has nothing to do with me and is instead a relfection of the person who is discriminating against me.

Confidence is sexy and it looks good on people.

Mia

Seven gray hairs. There they were, laid out emphasized on the black pillow right in front of me. Megan had plucked them out of my head the morning of my 23rd birthday. She held my face in her hands and said in the most genuine of tones, "Babe, gray is so beautiful on you."

"Then why the hell did you pull them out of my head?" My head still stung where the cluster of gray once had rooted itself.

She gathered the grays and drew them close to my cheek. "So I could hold them up to your eyes and imagine how beautiful you'll be when you're 60."

There was no question why I was wrapped in Megan's arms that day and every other day. She was the most kind and passionate lover anyone could hope for, and she was mine. I toted her around like a little-leaguer wears a medal after a championship. People would know about the prize I had won, even if they didn't care to. She did the same for me. Our love was obnoxious almost all of the time and we had no shame in that. We had the kind of love that others' are not lucky enough to share. It was the most mutual, honest love that could ever exist and was exquisite.

The I joined the Navy.

We wrote to each other every day while I was in bootcamp. She did not postmark the letters with her name as to remain genderless. Fellow bootcamp recruits wanted to know why I was getting an obscene amount of mail. Who cared that much about me? "Do you have a boyfriend back home? What is his name? How long have you been with him? What's he like?" After a few weeks of the pronoun game, I had to come up with something. I started calling her Murdock. It was random, but so random that it wasn't questioned. It worked and it stuck.

"Murdock is smart. Murdock works at a tattoo shop. Murdock is an artist. Murdock plays the base." I never called Megan "he" because she deserved more than that. Then came the question I was dreading.

"If you two are so in love, then why don't you have any pictures of him?" I asked Megan to send me a picture of her with a guy, any short, tattooed, dark-haired guy, so I could pass him off as my "Murdock." She snapped a Poloroid of herself posing with some random guy in the tattoo shop. I opened the envelope, looked at the photo and knew that this was where the lying really began.

I lied every single day about Megan from that day forward while I was enlisted. After losing any amount of integrity I had, and with a stiff prompting from my senior chief who had heard a rumor that I was a lesbian, I wrote a letter proclaiming my sexuality. The day I wrote that letter I had more pride than leather-clad bears dancing on the biggest float of the parade. I knew who I was and I didn't have to hide it anymore. Three weeks later I was discharged under Don't Ask Don't Tell.

Megan and I stayed together throughout the duration of my enlistment. She was my rock. My best friend. My (phone sex) lover. My everything. Once I was discharged, I felt like Megan was my Only-thing. Where had my sense of self gone? My pupose? My drive? My tenacity? My pride? It was as if they had all been discharged from my personality.

The feelings of shame and failure that conincided with the Navy discharge were unexpected and overwhelming I was not the same prideful person that I had been before. I had tucked my medal under my shirt because I had grown accustomed to hiding it. Instead of wearing her like a trophy, she became a weight around my neck. I resented Megan for supporting my discharge. I became upset with her for loving me when it was devastatingly obvious that I did not love myself. I broke up with her because she did not hate me.

It took years for me to regain my sense of self-worth and pride. Having a bad relationship with yourself is much like having a bad relationship with someone else. As long as you learn from the relationship, you come out stronger and more in tune with your own wants and needs. I know what I am worth and I am aware of what I have to offer. I am quite the "catch" if I do say so myself. I know now that I am worthy of being someone's trophy. When I find the right woman I plan to stand on the highest podium with her and let everyone know that she and I won first place.

I have Megan and myself to thank for this perspective of love. Without her love, I wouldn't know that love like that is possible. I've seen it in movies and read about it in all the 'Twilight' books, but love like that, (minus all the vampire stuff), really does exist.

Through the years of self-reflection, Megan and I have only spoken a handful of times. It is usually short and in passing. I ran into Megan two years ago while I was visiting home.

"Hey, how are you? Long time, no see. I like your hair," she said.

"I'm good thanks. You like it? I'm thinking of dying it black. My grays are really starting to show."

"Don't color it. Gray is beautiful on you."

She smiled and walked away. We haven't spoken since. As I write this, I'm still rockin' the gray hair.

Kristen