My girlfriend and I were talking recently and she asked me, "did you feel like you finally became yourself once you realized you were gay?" Although I knew I liked girls at the age of 16 and dated a few here and there, I didn't come out until about a year and a half ago.

Looking back on my life I realize that it wasn't until coming out and realizing that I am in fact gay, I had never truly been comfortable in my shoes. I went through many phases, mostly with my appearance, trying new looks out unconsciously trying to find my place in the world. I was a hippie in high school and dabbled in the goth realm shortly there after.

I was a tomboy as a young girl and joke to this day with my parents that I was the son they never had. Prefering dirt and trucks over dancing and dolls I befriended young boys rather than young girls and played rough as a little one. I even have a few memories of taking my grandmother into the little boys section of clothing when she took me shopping as a child.

Sure one could say that all of these memories either fall into society's engenderized notions or that as a lesbian I myself am feeding into homophobic stereotypes, but I will be the first to say that stereotypes originate from somewhere (it's when people judge someone based on stereotypes or hold them against somone that becomes the problem).

I digress...20 years later after having lived my life as a full lesbian for over a year, I believe I have finally found the self that I am most comfortable in. I feel most comfrotable as well as sexy in men's clothes as well as taking on the "male role" in a romantic relationship. (Honestly I believe that society's ideas of male vs. female and the roles each should play are far too limited, but that's another post entirely).

It was not until my girlfriend actually asked me that question that day about finally feeling more comfortable in my own skin after coming out but she was right. Even though I was raised in the Bay Area, one of the most open and accepting communities in the U.S. homosexuality was still not exposed. Homophobia was not rampant and I was not raised to believe that living a gay lifestyle was wrong, but being gay was not an option for me. The society in which I was raised was so heterocentric there was no question in my mind that I was going to find a man, fall in love, get married, have kids and share the rest of my life with him. There are messages everywhere that reinforce these heterocentric ideas, on greeting cards, in songs and commercials, in movies and magazine advertizements and there are virtually no images in society that suggest that two men or two women can settle down and be just as happy as a man and woman could.

People ask whether or not I could date a man again, and although I have no idea of what my future holds, I think most likely not. I am so happy to be gay because it feels so right for me. After searching throughout the years of my life to find out who I am and now having finally discovered the true me, I have no desire to go back. (Let it be said that I do not hate men). I love who I am, sexuality and all and sure I would prefer to live in a society in which I had equal rights and was not discriminated against, but even still, I could not be happier or more proud to be gay and know that this is the person that I am meant to be.

Mia

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

I have an anxiety disorder. I was first diagnosed about eight years ago but coming to terms with and accepting this part of myself did not really begin until last spring. Up until this point I had learned how to 'get by' and deal with my anxiety on a daily basis. I had tried all sorts of different remedies such as therapy, homeopathy and diet, but it was until I had a panic attack so severe that I ended up in the hospital when I realized that it may be time to seek alternative methods for my condition. It was then I decided to seek medical treatment.

I was fortunate enough to find a psychiatrist that was understanding and empathetic of my biases towards medication and we agreed to start slow and easy for me. (I had many irrational fears about taking medication for many years). I started on a very low dosage and at first, all seemed to be going very well.

At this point in my life I was dating a very wonderful woman who was entirely accepting of my situation. I had many insecurities about my anxiety disorder and felt great shame that it was a part of me. When I confided in her, she was understanding and extrememly accommodating. She listened to me and my fears and never made me feel bad for what I was dealing with.

About a month into taking the medication I was taking a full pill a day, I had been instructed to increase my dosage by a quarter pill each week. It was my fourth week and both my girlfriend and a mutual friend noticed that something seemed to be different with me. They both came to me to talk about their concerns and I agreed that something was 'off' with me, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what exactly was wrong. Looking back on it, I was beginning to isolate myself and I grew increasinly despondent with each day.

A few days later I woke up in the middle of the night in the midst of a severe panic attack. The only thoughts running through my frantic mind was that life was hopeless and nothing would ever get better for me-that I would always feel this way. I called my mother and she talked me through it and was able to calm me down. We agreed that we thought it was the medication that was affecting my mood and that I should call my pyschiatrist in the morning.

When I got off the phone with my mom, I texted my girlfriend that I was having a rough night and asked her to call me when she woke up. (She had gone out of the state for the weekend). She called me when she woke up and was very concerned. She listened to me and apologized for not being in town to be able to help me. She was fortunately flying home that day and she told me to come over as soon as she got in. I took the day off from work and tried to continue to calm down (I was still physically shaking with anxiety). My psychiatrist advised me to stop taking the pill because that pill had a tendency to produce suicidal thoughts in some people. I stopped taking the medication immediately.

Sure enough I got a phone call from her later that night and she told me to come over to her house even thought it happened to be the last night with her roommate before she left to go to grad school. Once my girlfriend opened the door to let me in, she pulled me into her arms and just held me. When we pulled away from the hug, she grabbed my hand and didn't let it go for the entire evening. This one specific gesture exemplified her love and support and she was able to help me get through one of the most terrifying experiences of my life.

Anonymous

It was the summer after my sophomore  year of college at the University of South Dakota. I had a bad summer and decided to go back to school a month early. The day I got back to South Dakota from home in Omaha, I met a gorgeous girl ironically. I wondered why I couldn't have met her while I was still in Omaha because that's where she lived also. So we chatted and decided to meet in a  few weeks when I would be back home. So we did. I picked her up and we went out-it was great! She was gorgeous, feminine and just my type.

We decided after that to be exclusive and we tried the distance thing. After all, my college was only 2 hours from Omaha. So we did the distance for year while I was on a softball scholarship. The distance was hard and my love for softball faded so I decided to transfer schools.

We were in love and decided to get married one day. Unfortunately a few month after I transfered, she cheated on me with a friend and I was heart broken. I had given up a scholarship for her and that's how I was repaid? I tried to get over it but couldn't. We couldn't be together even though we tried for a few years.

We're still friends to this day but I learned a valuable lesson and that's never give up anything for anyone and never move for anyone unless you have more than one reason for it. I'm stronger today for going through that.

Anonymous

Hello...my name is Bill and I'm a 50 year old male. I happpen to be a family member of your blog owner. When I was asked to write this, it made me reflect on my adult life and I realized, like everyone, I had some really good times and some bad ones too....!!!! But, all in all, I've had a good life so far.

I've been lucky enough to have two long term relationships and am now in another....we celebrated our one year anniversary in January. In the two long term relationships, I was younger and truly thought I had met the loves of my life and wanted them to be the idyllic "white picket fence" type we all search and yearn for. I won't say "sadly enough" they didn't work out that way but they ended for different reasons.

In my first relationship, he was 11 years older than I and a very successful business person. I was 22 years old and thought I had it all. We had a house in the Hollywood Hills and one in Laguna Beach....we had great friends and life was good. Our friends thought we had everything going for us; behind the scenes it was far from it. In the beginning, my ex was the life of the party. He would tell jokes, laugh, and all in all, have a fun time all the while drinking. The drinking got worse and worse over the years until it got to be unberable. I tried all sorts of things to make it work...and to his credit he tried also. He went to rehab two times, reluctantly, because his job made him go. One of the times, he was in rehab and I got a phone call from him. He wasn't supposed to have a phone...this was before cell phones...but there he was on the phone. He called to tell me "how bad it was in here so I didn't do this to anyone else." After that call, although it took a little more than a year, we broke up. I was sad but I knew it was the right decision. We had been together for nine and a half years and I walked away from everything.

The second was probably the best in many ways but the hardest too....over the 11 years we were together, I checked my "person" at the door and never allowed myself to grow. This hurt both of us in the end and I felt horribly we ended negatively...over the years we have resolved everything. He was a very good man but not the best at showing affection and I'm a very affectionate person. We followed his job up and down the East Coast because he made so much more than I did. I had a good career going when we lived in Washington D.C. but had to leave it so we could move to New York. At the time, I was hurt and angry but didn't show it nor talk about it much. This I realized was a huge mistake and started us on the downward trend...this was truly my fault. I started drinking a little more and had a couple of affairs thinking I could find myself but in the most inappropriate ways. What I didn't know until later was he was having trysts too, but to his defense, it was due to my behavior. Five years ago, I received a job offer for a position in Texas. After some discussion, I made the move. It was very difficult splitting up everything...espcially the dogs and cats.

At the time, I thought I had made a good decision...and I did. I was able to find myself again, went into therapy, got back into competitive tennis and focused on Bill for the first time in my life. I realized it was okay to be selfish as long as you didn't hurt anyone. Through therapy, I was able to discover things about myself I knew but didn't want to face; now that I've faced my demons, I'm a much better person and partner.

If I had been in touch and able to hit my issues square in the face, would I have been in those relationships? Looking back on it, I wouldn't be where I am today and without having experienced everything I had in my life...would I change a few things...yes....would it have made a big difference....probably...but would I be the caring and loving person who understands himself better....probably not.

In my current relationship I am a much better person. I communicate more and better even though it might not be exactly what my partner wants to hear at the time....it's honest and open. After my fifty years, I'm finally able to be myself and not worry about what people think.

In closing, life is what it is. Sometimes we are dealt a hand we feel is insurmountable and we just want to give up; but don't. If you look at life as a series of situations requiring good decision making, you can make it. If you let outside factors govern your decisions, you might not make the decision that's best for you. I'm not saying it's okay to only look out for yourself to the detriment of others, but it's okay to be a little selfish as long as you don't hurt anyone. As I look back, I had money, lost money, made stupid decisions, made some good ones too....and through it all, ultimately, I had myself to fall back on.

Bill is a good person. He has a great job, people who love and care about him. He's healthy and happy. I have a measurement that some people may find as silly....if I won the lottery tomorrow, would I change anything? New house? New car? Nope....I love where I am now personally and professionally. It took a good amount of time and effort to get here; I'm so happy I get a chance to enjoy it.

Bill

Looking back at all the compilations of my relationships, I realize that I took a little something new from each person and learned a little more about myself, which taught me to love myself more. It's not just the good parts and trying to remember the happy memories, but it's also remembering the hardest parts. Hearing someone you love recognize the bad parts of you and acknowledging it yourself and trying to work on it. It's almost all the good little happy things and knowing that that's what I want in the future and all the criticism that comes out of ending a relationship is what I got back.

My whole life I've been told I'm a dreamer and not a doer. And it took me deciding not to be in a relationship to work on it. I'm definitely a dreamer, like looking at the sunlight and how it hits something and noticing the beauty that results.

I did the whole college thing. I don't know if it wasn't for me but it didn't pan out for me. I wanted to be a housewife. I wanted to be painting on a deck in NYC and have my doctor girlfriend come home to dinner. I've seen countless girls through countless career choices through countless relationships and then I dated a Scorpio. She was fantastic and beautiful and everything you wanted to make last forever.

It had been awhile since I had dated anyone and I was dating a couple of girls at the time. I realized that I didn't want to be a tour guide through life. I was dating older women who were like, "been there, done that" or, "aww you're only 23..." It was the first time in awhile I gave myself room to play with someone and give myself the opportunity to experience things with another person.

For being in the same place at the same time and for loving all of the same things, she made me feel like shit for making sandwiches. And gurl, I love to make sandwiches! I just began to feel like I'd be doing the same thing at the end of the day. And at the end of the day, everything was hers. Her pictures. Her life. Her girlfriend that was making sandwiches that just didn't cut it.

You can hold onto anger and choose to say those things, but I think I was mad at myself for not seeing the best parts of me. I was so mad at her for not seeing the best parts of me. I would say to her, "I love all your pieces" even though there were many awful pieces but I loved all of her pieces-they were the same to me. And when it was over, I was so mad at her for not seeing all of my pieces, but what kind of person are you if you allow someone to put you down and keep you there?! I'm 23 and have my whole life ahead of me. And guess what?! I'm still making sandwiches haha.

I started blogging 6 years ago and the first post I wrote was when I broke up with my first love. It's interesting to go back and read that post and then think about breaking up with my second love, which was in October. I have been single since then and I don't ever want to be in a relationship again. I've been hanging out with a girl and we cuddle and kiss occasionally. We share the kind of pillow-talk moments where we rediscover those angsty-teen moments together.

I want the movie kind of love. I want to read poetry to my love and I want to be able to stay in my room and paint and not have her care. My friendships have reflected that. I have a great group of friends that support one another and will go to each other's shows. I think it's because we're all headed in the same direction. I think it's because I formed a good relationship with myself.

I've had so many friends in my life tell me that I'm settling and at the time and in those moments I'm like, "I'm not settling! I can do this forever!" I read "Letters to a Young Poet" by Rilke in my last relationship. I remember seeing that book for the first time and it was in-between an Andrea Gibson poetry book and "Paint it Black", which I now consider my break-up book. It's about this girl who is finding in this relationship and her entire journey is realizing that someone in her life was not who he was, but who he wanted to be. She looses her faith in people and asks the Universe why she's here and why she is being tortured and she was given a sign to just let it all go. Let it all be.

There was a quote in Rilke about how things in life are difficult which is all the more reason why we should do them. I've worked so hard to be where I am, and working this hard, despite how difficult it's been, is all the more reason not to give up on it. I've been starting to feel the same way about emotions. I love the movie-love idea of jumping in head first and having it be all-or-nothing. But right now, I'm waiting for those moments, to take the time and take things slow, which have become my all-or-nothing moments.

Since Valentine's Day I have been dating a couple of women, but nothing serious. I woke up and realized that I want fireworks! Those types of moments where you're seeing a woman and she's already left for the day and has left you a note, and just seeing her handwriting makes you nervous. I feel like things have become muddled and I want those types of things to have meaning again. They didn't mean as much because I lost the journey that I was on.

I came out of high school thinking I knew who I was. Everybody has this idea of themselves of who they are and what they bring to the table. It's like the saying that says, "once you realize that there is no solid place to stand, you'll be at peace." I feel like I was trying to hold onto this image of who I was when I came out of high school and when I was in relationships with people who had all these wonderful things to say about me-it's like catching yourself in a lie.

I feel like I've been in this constant journey to come back to myself. The part of myself like when I was a kid and didn't know how harsh the world was. Like trying to get back to that place because that place is what I had given away to too many people. It's one aspect of myself that I like most about me. I've been spending all this time in relationships trying to find that part of myself and I now realize that I need to spend more time with myself. If I hold those standards for myself then I'll find people who hold the same standards for themselves in my life. It's like what all my friends tell me, "you shouldn't go to a bar to meet your next girlfriend." And my response was always, "Well there where do you meet your next girlfriend?!" It's nice to know that people hang out outside of bars.

It's all about making a personal connection. Not just a relationship. I mean, I come home to myself everyday and I don't feel like I've had a relationship with myself for a long time. How can you expect anyone to be there for you when you can't even be there for yourself?!

I feel like I have things to say and I feel like I haven't had anything to say for a really long time.

Hannah