“I think it can be hard for LGBT people to identify our ‘moment of knowing’ because, as a result of the society we’ve inhabited, most of us wrestled with denial and with ourselves for a long time before allowing ourselves to know. I’ve compared it to the feeling of trying to hold an inflated ball beneath the water; at some point, we lose control and it bursts through the surface. Those moments, those bursts, are often our ‘moments of knowing.’

“I saw firsthand in my family that being gay was not welcomed or affirmed but instead met with heartbreak. I worked very hard, as a result, to drown my feelings before they could develop. I forced myself into relationships with girls in middle and high school, always wondering why I did not fully invest in them, and I prayed each night for peace from this. I could not bring myself to ‘take up space’ this way; I believed it was my responsibility to set these feelings aside.

“But there were ‘bursts through the surface.’ One day, while waiting for my brother to exit baseball practice so I could drive him home, the boy on whom I’d had a long-time crush knocked on my car window. He was in gym shorts and cleats, and he was a little sweaty from practice. My heart raced, my face flushed. I managed to sputter a few friendly words back and forth. When he left, I caught my face in the rearview mirror. ‘Oh,’ I said aloud, ‘I’m gay.’ But I pushed it beneath the water again immediately.

“My true moment of knowing, my ‘no-turning-back’ event, was when my best friend came out to me in college. Behind a wall of tears, he bared his soul and unveiled his story. As he spoke, I felt my blood racing; he seemed to be speaking my exact experience. In that moment, as I considered him and his immutable light, I realized how nonsensical it was to believe God could feel anything but love and pride for him and his courage. And, I realized, if God could so certainly love him, then maybe – just maybe – God would love me, too.”

– M

“I knew when I was very young that something was different. My brother went to play basketball with the next-door neighbors – I might have been 6 or 7 – and TJ, the kindest of my brother’s friends, took his shirt off. I was infatuated.

“I’ve always had control issues, and my sexuality is no exception. In the fourth grade, a girl told me I looked gay when I was playing kickball, and I’ve made conscious and subconscious decisions since that moment to control my sexuality. This led to some very self-destructive behaviors: I drank excessively, abused prescription drugs in high school, casually dated women, and forced myself to watch porn with women in it. I compartmentalized the parts of my sexuality that I couldn’t control. The day after I lost my virginity to my then-girlfriend, I cried, but I couldn’t identify what had upset me. I finally accepted who I was in high school, slowly, and only to myself. I still wasn’t ready to come out.

“But the funny thing about control is that, when you try so hard to gain a grip on things, you lose it. I was at a party the night after we graduated, and I got wasted. I then got crossfaded from the bong I had taken a giant rip of, and the chemicals in my body forced me to black. When I woke up, a friend told me that I had come out to everyone at the party.

“Learning to love myself and accept my feelings has not come easy. It’s been a long, halting, painstakingly slow process – and I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not quite there yet. But, my life is a journey, and I’m slowly realizing that my sexuality is a gift that I’ve been given. It’s an amazing part of who I am and the man I have become. I still have control issues, but now I realize that my sexuality is something that I can’t – and don’t want to – control. I’ve let go, and I am liberated.”

– J

“When I knew, for sure, to the point that it was undeniable, I was a senior in high school. Of course, by that time, I had felt attraction to one guy or another, but I was raised in an extremely repressive environment – a WASP haven, if you will. Therefore, it took me a very long time to admit in myself that love was possible for me.

“The moment I knew was when I truly felt love for the first time. He was a goofy, shaggy, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, baby-faced football boy. What started out as a casual friendship slowly evolved into a romantic one, and yes – even a physical one. On a fateful summer evening, he came over to watch anime, as we had done many times. When we did this, we would get food and pop, and I would lie in his lap. It was casual, our relationship. But this time, I was brave; I reached out and held his hand.

“Instead of retreating like I expected, he put his other hand in my hair and acted like nothing happened. My chest was on fire but light, heavy yet fluttered. Such a small gesture, a tiny thing. But, at that moment, I knew I had fallen in love with him. And, at that moment, I finally stopped denying the possibility that even I could be loved.”

– S

“I had a girlfriend in high school, but we didn’t call each other girlfriends and we didn’t tell anyone we were romantic in any way. One day, my mom walked in on us kissing. Later that night my parents quizzed me about my sexuality and told me they loved me and it was okay to be gay, but the word ‘gay’ just never felt like it described me.

“I started dating my boyfriend shortly thereafter. And then in college I dated another woman. It wasn’t until I got involved in the university’s LGBT and Ally club and I met dozens of other people of many different identities that I realized that sometimes sexuality is too intricate for words.

“So I have recently been dating men again. But I have realized that my sexuality is immensely complex, and it’s still evolving, and I’m still making sense of it all, and that is all okay.”

– H

“Who am I? What do you care? As I thought about writing my story, my mind filled with many concerns, worries, and frustrations. I didn’t want to be a stereotype or create conflicts of interest between my experiences and those of others. I didn’t want my story be controversial. Then all of the sudden it hit me: I am me. I. Am. Me. What a concept.  I don’t need to wear a mask to share my story, so here it goes:

“Hello. My name is James. I am organized. I am a friend. I am a husband. I am a lover. I am loyal. I am deceitful. I am a son. I am gay. I am confused. I am strong. I am a gossip. I am moral. I am a student. I am a leader. I am human. I am a child of God. These are just few of the roles I play and also try to hide on a daily basis.

“‘I am gay’ was certainly harder to say at one point than it is to write today. I have always known in one sense or another that I was gay; it wasn’t like one day I woke up after a fever and became ill with homosexuality. When I was younger, I would listen to what others said and professed on the topic and tricked myself into believing I was a bad person,  that I did not want to be gay because I would end up alone in the world and most likely head straight to hell.

“I used to dream about guys in my high school class that I thought were attractive. Getting a high-five or even a hug during a class retreat was an amazing feeling. Somehow I was connected to them. I didn’t want to hurt the girls that ‘liked’ me. I started to wear masks during my middle and high school years. Which mask could I wear to hide myself for as long as possible? Would I be the class president who always wanted to control the situation and didn’t want to delegate duties? Or would I hide behind my own faith, professing to others at my own retreat that I wasn’t gay? Or the kid that would sit at home watching porn from the age of 14 onward because I didn’t what else to do with my feelings towards men?

“I must confess that these were all me. I am not proud of the masks I wore, but I cannot change my past. It is through these experiences I have learned and have tried to become a better person, even if that takes a lifetime to do. It wasn’t until my sophomore year of college that I finally felt comfortable sharing my feelings about men with my close friends. Through many tears and deep conversations, I made it through. During my study abroad experience others let me know it was okay to be me. It was okay to take time to express myself. It was okay to take a moment.

“I would like to share a poem about wearing masks:

‘Undone,’ by Christine Bruness
Slowly he unraveled
bandages of facades
and bravely peeled apart
the cracked layers
of his contrived persona,
exposing his darkness
in all its authenticity
feeling vulnerable…
then free
by becoming undone.”

– J

“I came out of the womb belting musical theatre tunes, and to save ourselves the stereotypes, I promise this is not headed in THAT direction. Imagine at four years old I am singing in my living room ‘Some Enchanted Evening’ from South Pacific, I look to my parents and say, ‘I cannot wait to marry a girl just like Nellie.’

“My parents, unlike some, did not find this idea cute. They squashed the idea, ‘You cannot do that! You are BOTH girls.” Interestingly, this was news to me – as I had never and will never view myself as female. Yet, here I am, 24 years old living as I have always seen myself – the leading man.“

– B

“I was 22. I kissed a girl. Well, she kissed me. I turned around, walked to my car, and sat there.

“I should have known in high school, when I looked at my best friend during a sleepover and wondered what it would be like to kiss her.

“I should have known when I rewatched the lesbian kiss in Dodgeball over and over and over.

“I should have known when I became obsessed with Manny Santos on Degrassi. (To this day, I still have a thing for the Latinas.)

“But I didn’t know any of those times. I knew immediately after this girl kissed me.”

– A

“It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when I ‘knew.’ Perhaps when I admitted it is a better way to navigate this story. I always thought I might be gay from a young age. I would make a comment that would seem out of character for a boy, and friends or family members would follow up with, ‘That’s kind of gay, don’t you think?’ Speaking with a lisp intensified these comments. People can be cruel after all.

“However, every time my sexuality crossed my mind, I would immediately dismiss the thought. High school proved more difficult to avoid these thoughts. A tri-sport athlete and a member of the High School Wrestling Team, I spent much time around good-looking young men. It was hard not to notice my feelings for them. I worked hard to bury these emotions for four years.

“When I reached my sophomore year of college, I was struggling with these feelings more than ever. At 19, I attended a weekend retreat put on by my college’s Campus Ministry department. The retreat focused on personal and spiritual growth. While it wasn’t based around religion, God was central to many of the activities and discussion that weekend. During a part of the retreat, the attendants wrote a private letter to God that they later burned as an offering to him. The letter could be about whatever we wanted. I chose to ask God why he made me gay. Why would he put me through this pain and misery? My letter went on for five pages. I berated God. I told him I hated him, that I hated myself. I was pissed off, and I let him know it. I deserved to know why I was different. Why I was destined to go to hell according to the Bible.

“This was the first time I ever wrote the words, ‘I am gay.’ Tears streamed down my face as I knelt before the fire. I felt so broken as I tossed my letter into the pit and watched it burn.”

– R

“It took me roughly 21 years to figure it out. And days short of my 23rd birthday before I said it out loud. I never felt as if I would be abandoned or hated but I never had a concrete feeling that I was ‘different’ either. Fleeting feelings for girls here and there that I dismissed as envy. I only wanted to be LIKE them, I didn’t want to be WITH them. I’m a sucker for love but looking back something about same sex couples always warmed my heart a little more.

“In high school I fell head over heels in love with a boy. Problem solved! I was straight! Until that ended. And then, after several other failed relationships, I had to ask myself why I always found flaws. Here come those strange feelings again. Do I ‘like’ her? Or do I just enjoy her friendship?

“Near the end of college, I had done enough vague exploration through conversations with friends that I think I had come to terms with it. But I needed to be 100% sure. The words almost burst through my lips multiple times before my head was ready, though I could tell my heart was ready. That’s when I knew.”

– A

“Being gay was never brought up or talked about in my house. My parents never had a sit-down talk about the difference, nor was it brought up in school. Oh, the joys of going to a Catholic grade school! When it was brought up, it was quickly dismissed as being ‘wrong.’ No backing, no reasoning…just wrong.

“I almost went through all of high school not dating anyone until my senior year. I dated a girl I met that summer at camp, but she lived three hours away. The distance did not bother me, though, as it wasn’t something I was totally invested in. Others found it strange I dated someone so far away. That was short-lived, and I moved on without any emotional backlash.

“I remember thinking to myself ‘what if?’ and ‘could I be?’ all the time. I was told over and over again that it was ‘wrong.’ I never wanted to upset my parents by being gay. There was a constant fear of my parents finding out.

“My Sophomore year of college, a group of friends and I were hanging out in my dorm room and we watched a movie. We all crammed into the small room, popped in a DVD, and turned the lights off. Partly through the movie, people were dozing off, on their phones texting, and/or not paying much attention to the movie. All of a sudden, I felt my hand get nudged.

“I ignored it and moved my hand slightly.

“It happened again, but this time, the fingers locked with my own. Another guy was holding my hand. I turned my head away from him, but I had the feeling of butterflies in my stomach. What was this? What was happening? I had never felt this way before. I was so confused, but at the same time I felt so happy. I looked over and saw him grinning at me. What only lasted a few minutes felt like an eternity.

“We come back to the question, ‘When did I know?’ Well, I always knew. But I had trouble accepting myself. What changed, for me, was being off on my own and creating my own experiences. Ever since that moment, I have not turned back.

“Just a few shorts weeks after the ‘hand holding’ I came out to my first friend. That feeling was like opening a soda can shaken up constantly over nineteen years. Once the ‘secret’ was out, the world was much better place. Words almost can’t describe the feeling of that event. Even thinking about the whole experience of how it all came about brings back so many emotions. Both good and bad.”

– M