I'm not sure as a child I knew what love was, in fact, I am not sure even to this day that I know what love is. I don't believe in the heart dropping, butterflies in the stomach completely enamored kind of "in love" many people purport to experience. I heard a lot about love being raised in a two parent Christian home, especially agape love. It's an interesting concept that can be briefly described as a divine, unconditional, self-sacrificing, active, volitional, and thoughtful love. My parents demonstrated this kind of love to me and my siblings our entire lives by always loving and supporting us - even when we broke rules and I came out.

I don't put much stock in feelings as shown on TV or we read about in books because they seem ethereal and fleeting. With that being said, I have found true one important caveat in my life that may be considered a facet of love, according to the idea of agape. That is committment.

My friends would say this is an odd word for me to use because I am a self-proclaimed and many times chastised committment-a-phobe.

Committment is defined by the Merriam-Webster Dictionary as the following:

1 a: an act of committing to charge or trust: as (1): a consignment to a penal or mental institution (2): an act of referring a matter to a legislative committee b: mittimus
2 a: an aggreement or pledge to do something in the future; especially: an engagement to assume a financial obligation at a future date b: something pledged c: the state or instance of being obligated or emotionally impelled <a committment to a cause>

Obviously, the first definitions is not the one I'm concerned with. The second is. Unwittingly all of my adult life, I have been committing to people on different levels. First date, undefined whatever, casually dating, survivor, f**k buddy, friends with benefits, best friend, confidant, girlfriend/boyfriend (depending on my personal mood or gender preference at that stage in life), someone who will be there, provider, fiance, live in partner, domestic partner, joint account sharer and the list goes on.

We all have been one of these at different times. I am a biological woman who has enjoyed committing on varying levels to many woman over the course of my life. In every interaction I was shaped and learned so much from each of them, as I hoped they learned from me. I have bettered as a person and partner due to every word exchanged (harsh or kind), from every adventure taken, from every glance stolen and every memory shared. Today I can say that I am in the most seriously committed and non ambiguous relationship in my life, which I never would have been able to say had it not come for the women before.

With that said, I am not very different than most people: straight, homosexual, bisexual, transsexual, transgendered, intersex etc. We all commit on some level to something at some point in time.

Natalie

I had undergone a minor surgery that had left me in major pain. The surgery was done in my mouth, which left talking difficult, breathing uncomfortable and eating near impossible. My girlfriend at the time requested two shifts off in order to be with me the night before, (these procedures seem to make me quite anxious), then to take me the morning of, and spend the rest of the day with me.

The pain is nothing like I have ever felt in my life and she was there to make me laugh, rub my back when I cried, make delcious smoothies for me to drink and comfort me when I was feeling anxious. Without asking she completed my grocery shopping and even thought to buy my favorite lavander bubble bath. She drew me a bath that first night and helped me shower since I was high on percocet.

She had to work and go to class the next couple of days but after her shifts and classes she came right over to my house to continue to take care of me (she happened to live an hour a half away from me) so I wouldn't have to be alone at night. After five days of commuting and being my bedside nurse, she surprised me by coming up one night when I wasn't expecting her just to make sure that I was doing alright.

About a month after my surgery our relationship ended in one big hot mess. To this day we do not talk and have gone our separate ways, but I am still very thankful for how well this woman took care of me during a difficult and scary moment in my life.

Anonymous

Despite what myself and many people seem to think, people can change. This post is about my grandfather and what a truly amazing man he is.

My grandfather was born and raised in The Great Depression era and to this day he still eats every last bite of food on his plate. He wanted to serve in the army during World War II, but a heart defect prevented his tour overseas. A man built of American pride and honor, he is steeped in tradition, which although may be admirable on some level, there is another side as well.

My whole life I have always heard the rationalizations of, "oh it was just a different time" or "back in those days we never talked about anything", and be this as it may, I do not consider these justifications appropriate to condone closed minded thinking that seems to have been so normal during this time period and which still continues today.

Although my grandfather has never been overtly racist or homophobic, he certainly had his beliefs and opinions. He did not support biracial marriage until two of the best cousins/grandchildren a family could have who were both adopted and happened to be the product of interracial relationships, this prejudice was softened in him.

Along these same lines, my grandfather did not support homosexual lifestyles. A cousin of mine came out 30 years ago and I am told that my grandfather gave him the 'cold shoulder' after he came out. Backstory: my grandfather has always been a very sensitive man, despite his many prejudices, and has been known to cry on many occasions. To further his sentiment, about 8 years ago, my grandfather sustained a heart "event" as he calls it, so severe that he actually flat lined and was proclaimed dead. Well 8 years later he is still fighting, despite two knee replacements, a minor stroke and a major hernia.

After this heart event, my sister and I always remark on how much more sensitive Papa had become. Surprising us with random phone calls simply to tell us he loved us for no special reason or occasion. Even though Papa has always been a sensitive man, he never had children of his own and he is technically my step-grandfather, he has always loved his grandchildren so severly that I have always considered him to be biological family.

Two years ago now, I realized I was gay and came out to my family. I have never been shy or ashamed of who I am but there was great discussion as to whether or not I should come out to Papa. The general consensus among my immediate family was that Papa is old and that I shouldn't tell him for my own sake. That I wouldn't want to alienate myself from him during his last years.

Being the firey, pugnacious individual that I am prone to be, I first interpreted this as being cowardly. I didn't want to lie about or hide who I am and I wanted to be able to be open about my life, all of my life. Once I calmed down and thought about the logistics of this however, I came to agree with my family. My romantic life was never really a topic of conversation shared with Papa anyway and my coming out to him was not in fact a priority.

Backstory part 2: My grandparents have always had a summer cabin that we as a family have traditionally visited each summer (I took my first steps in this exact cabin). As my grandparents have aged they have decided to sell the cabin because no one else in our family would use it as much so last year we had a mini family reunion to celebrate our memories of the times spent in the woods. My cousin, the one who had come out 30 years ago, attended this reunion and was able to interact with my grandfather. Apparently after this long weekend, my grandfather called my cousin and apologized for treating him the way he had and told him he was thankful for their time together because he realized what a wonderful man he is.

My family saw this incident as an opportunity to welcome Papa into my situation as well. This past summer my parents visited the cabin and my mom told me that she and my father had been considering telling my grandparents about my sexuality. They thought that it might be easier for Papa to digest if I wasn't there and so I decided to give my parents the green light to out me.

The day I knew my parents were returning to town, I missed a phone call from my grandfather while I was at work. He left me a message and asked me to call him when I had a chance. On my way home from work I called Papa and he told me that he had had a wonderful weekend with my parents. More specifically however he wanted to tell me that he loved me and supported me and was proud of me. He continued on to say that he realized that love is love and that is what is most important-that it doesn't matter who you love but that you love and are loved. Through tears, he then apologized for taking 84 years to come to this realization and for acting so cold and closed minded throughout his life and I reassured him that what mattered was that he was able to open his mind and at 84, that is a pretty amazing thing.

We cried together and I thanked him for his support and he reminded me that that was it-he supported me and my life. Honestly I was very shocked to receive such an immediatley warm response to my revelation, but knowing Papa's kind heart despite all of his many prejudices, I'm not too shocked that he was able to come around. I called my sister and mom and we all cried together on the phone and I promptly sent a 'thank-you' card to my grandparents thanking them for their love and support.

I realize that unfortunatley not all people who have been or are closed off to homosexual lifestyles eventually open their hearts and minds, but people can and do change. My 84 year old grandfather is a testament to this. Many people say that it just takes knowing one LGTBQ person to change the mind of someone and I know this to be true from my experience. Love is a powerful thing and does in fact have the power to open even the most closed off of hearts.

Mia

It all started in Rehab. I was a very confused young lady, about everything, about life. I started going to a few meetings, and as I was going to these meetings and getting clean I was coming to terms with who I was and who I am and who I wanted to be.

So, there was this girl that was very quiet and very...mysterious. She was somebody I wanted to get to know. At this point, I thought I was completely straight and never thought about women. I started hanging out with her and we had so much in common. She was straight as well, or so she thought. We would listen to music and she would teach me all of the "rave" dance moves. We were 15 and it was awesome. We were getting sober together.

We talked about sexuality. I told her I thought about being with women. I thought they were beautiful and she agreed and we both agreed we had thoughts and tendencies. I remember this one night we were at an open meeting, a family meeting so everyone was there. We saunteered off to the courtyard (we were so cool) and I don't quite remember what we were talking about, but I do remember that her back was to the shed and I was just looking at her and she was looking at me, all of a sudden I had this overwhelming feeling that I wanted to kiss her sooooooooooooooooo bad. Then she ran up to me and gave me the biggest fucking kiss of my life!

It was just that from there. She had a boyfriend at the time, she left him (thank God). We decided to be together. That lasted a good 4 days...but all in all I finally came to terms with the fact that I was gay.

There was a part of me that was missing and I wasn't sure what and then as soon as I found out, I was ecstatic. I felt free and that all doors were open.

I wanted to come out to my parents but that was scary. I was nervous because I didn't know how they'd feel about it. I didn't know if they'd disown me-all of these fucking thoughts were flying through my head. So I discussed some things with my drug counselor who happened to be bisexual, which was awesome. She just told me to take the plunge.

I started with my dad because he seemed to be more forgiving. I remember it being in the car where we always used to have weird conversations, like our first sex talk. I remember being like, "Dad, I have something to tell you," and he just gave me a look. I told him "I don't know how you're going to take it," (looking back on it he probably thought I was pregnant), I said, "Dad I know I like women." He said, "Oh yeah? What makes you think that?" and basically the whole conversation came down to "I love you and accept you no matter what!"

My mom was another story however. My mom just rolled her eyes and told me it was a phase but you know what mom?! It's still a phase six years later haha and to this day she still thinks it's a phase and I'll marry a man and have little babies.

By the time I turned 18 I worked at Tracks nightclub and that's when all the lesbians exploded in my life. I can't even imagine where I'd be without this community because all the women are beautiful and crazy and fun and dramatic. I feel like throughout all the friendships I've had over the years I've had the strongest connections with my lesbians friends.

I've dated men, and dated one guy since I came out and it was not for me. I would like to say that I'm pansexual and that I love all, but at the end of the day I'm attracted to women and it is what it is and it's awesome!

Jordan

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