Many of us idealize a day in which no one needs to "come out," when wherever someone falls on the gender or sexuality spectrum is accepted and embraced. Sadly, today is not that day - the world can be cruel (and often is) to anyone who doesn't fit into the heteronormative bubble. But if you're here, it probably means the last thing you want to do is contribute to the mental and emotional toll put on LGBTQ young people.
DEAR ABBY: My longtime friend let's call her Cindy is six months pregnant and has started sharing name ideas with me. Cindy will hear a word she thinks sounds pretty and decide it will make a great name for her daughter, regardless of the meaning of the word. I had to beg her to stop considering Chlamydia as a name. She finally agreed after I repeatedly emphasized the bullying her daughter could receive over that name.
I'm pretty close with him. I call him every couple of weeks. Usually we have a phone conversation and he asks how New York is, or school, or wherever we are. And in every single conversation he's like, "Do you have a boyfriend? Do you have a boyfriend yet? Where's your boyfriend?"
Earlier this year, IAC Chairman Barry Diller came out as gay in his memoir, Who Knew. Now, is he the first big, fancy businessman to be gay? Certainly not. But because Diller has been married to Diane von Fürstenberg since 2001, the admission generated a fair amount of discourse and made some people (read: me) very jealous. It all started in May, when New York magazine published a touching essay by Diller titled: "Barry & Diane: The truth about us, after all these years."
My home used to be a carefully curated museum of a life I wasn't actually living. The clothes I wore were a uniform, the decor was a decoy, and the entire space felt like a stage set for a character I was exhausted from playing. Coming out of the closet was the curtain call. The most tangible, cathartic part of the process was the great purge that followed - dismantling that set piece by piece.
You may have seen my TEDx talk. If so, you know its premise is having the courage to take a leap. My first story was about the first time I jumped off a high dive at the swimming pool. The second story was the leap of coming out. Both of those were scary. Did they prepare me for leaping out of plane 14,500 feet in the air? Not so much. You can't die from the first two.
I've been out for nearly 15 years. I write openly about queerness. I coach queer tech leaders. I've helped clients come out at work, come out again after trauma, and come out for the very first time. In fact, I'm even scheduled to speak on the main stage at a conference for 500+ LGBTQ+ tech leaders this year. On paper, I look confident and settled in my identity.
Over the past little while, there have been people online trying to define me, twist things, and share conversations in ways that feel harmful. Instead of letting others write my story, I want to share it in my own words. The truth is, over the past few years, I've come to understand and accept that I'm gay. It's taken me a long time to really process this part of myself and even longer to feel comfortable enough to say it out loud.
"I was told by a high up in the world's largest Christian organization that if I didn't end my relationship and denounce my homosexual lifestyle, she would call all the event planners I was already booked with and tell them I was gay and get all my gigs cancelled."
