“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

“I actually struggled with myself since about the age of eleven.

“Four years later, on New Year’s Eve, I was helping this single mother of five babysit, and all the kids went to bed. So there we were, me and this grown woman, and we were talking about how being gay is okay while we were taking down her Christmas tree.

“I told her ‘I think I’m gay.’

“She made a point to look at me and asked ‘You think? or you know you’re gay?‘

“And that’s when I realized I’m gay. No more doubts. It was also the first time I realized that nothing will really change; the same people will love me regardless.”

– A

“I started having suspicions about my sexuality at the very early age of six. My older brothers were very much into watching professional wrestling, and I remember wondering why everyone thought two nearly naked men rolling together on the floor was violent. To me, it seemed fun, and I started wanting to be a wrestler one day.

“When I knew for certain, I was just a little bit older. I developed my first crush on a guy in third grade. I found myself trying to become good friends with him, even taking up basketball just to play with him at recess. I spent the rest of my school days until high school just trying to feign interest in girls (and failing miserably). It was a relief to finally come out (via a bulletin on Myspace) just before starting high school in a new town. I had my first boyfriend within a month. Magic times.“

– Z

“I think a little part of me always knew I was gay even before I had the words to express it to myself or others. There was always this voice of dissent in the back of my mind that, when someone would make a comment about me in relation to a girl, would say, ‘No, not really’ or ‘What do you mean?’

“I vividly remember watching She’s the Man starring Channing Tatum when I was 14 and having all of these thoughts about Tatum’s character. He was gorgeous.

“I moved past those confusing thoughts into high school and dated several girls. They were typical high school relationships in that they lasted a few months and then broke apart. One of these relationships lasted longer than the others, and I remember her asking me, after eight months of dating: ‘Why haven’t we had sex yet?’

“What a perplexing question to be asked as a 17-year-old male! The door was wide open for me to do what I was always told I should do. This incredible experience was at my fingertips, but I couldn’t even wrap my head around it. I couldn’t even imagine myself doing that, let alone actually performing it. I just knew my anatomy wouldn’t cooperate. After all the years of compartmentalizing it, hiding it, shoving it away, watching gay porn, lusting after other guys, I just couldn’t hide it anymore.

“’It’s just a phase you’re going through.’ ‘You’ll find the right girl someday!’ All of these sayings were floating around in my head. The denial was so real, but that simple question from my girlfriend made me realize that I just could not be that person. It was wrong of me to string her along, and, even more so, it was wrong of me to string myself along. It was time to stop hiding. That’s when I knew.”

– A

This summer, during a weekend trip to the city of Portland,  I passed the wait for a city bus by visiting Powell’s Bookstore, whose shelves are comprised of new and used books. Shuffling through them, I stumbled upon a book called When I Knew.

Comprised of a collection of narratives from lesbian, gay, and bisexual people sharing their “moments of knowing,” When I Knew features stories running the gamut from funny to absurd to heartbreaking to victorious. Each of the narratives, I found, was perfectly human and real. The project spoke to us both; I bought the book, and we had to run for the bus. Now it sits on my coffee table, and more than one guest has rifled through it with curious energy.

There is power to our stories. I have said this and will say this again and again. And so begins my own small version of this project: The “When I Knew” Project. Friends and social media acquaintances have begun sharing their “moments of knowing,” and I will publish these – anonymously – here on this blog. Feel free to read and peruse them, perhaps to better understand and empathize or perhaps to feel not alone.

For we are not alone, and that is the saving power of sharing stories.

It has been more than two months since the Supreme Court declared marriage to be a right for everyone, which means it also has been more than two months since I posted my coming out blog post. I spoke myself into existence – it took only a moment of wild courage – and, after a burst of insanity, life settled into routine. The sun rose and fell, and life moved forward.

We post these announcements like they are a tremendous shock. To be fair, for some people in our lives, this comes as a tremendous shock. Maybe because we are some of the first to share these stories with them, or maybe because there are stubborn barriers to acceptance. But, all things considered, I don’t think this qualifies as the most shocking confession I could utter.

So, for fun, here are ten things more shocking about me than my sexual orientation.

Continue reading “ten things more shocking about me than my sexual orientation.” →

When I was younger, and I thought about the age of “25,” I enjoyed the idea that – when I was 25 – I would have life quite figured out. Looking back at my year as a 25-year-old, I have this to say to my younger self:

“That’s adorable.”

I don’t know where this notion came from. I’ve loved “Friends” for years, and it’s a show that revolves around the uncertainty and challenge of the mid-twenties to mid-thirties transition. And there’s a lot of talk about the quarter-life crisis (which sets a lofty goal of a 100-year life, but it’s fine). But you get it. I had my hopes.

Continue reading “on 25.” →

Working in the higher education environment comes along with a few unique realities. Freshman students will stay around the same age, for example, while each Fall finds me another year older. Students will always joke about chancing a bump from a campus bus for free tuition. Roommates will always be ready to cite “irreconcilable differences” (while rarely being ready to, you know, talk to each other about said differences). For me, working in residence life, one such reality is that July and August are annually destined to become a high-octane blur: Julaug.

I tweeted something along these lines, but the last days of June feel a bit like my last opportunity to catch my breath, bid a temporary farewell to my people. “See you in September,” I say, then laugh. Then pause. Then cry inconsolably.

Continue reading “julaug.” →

This is, I imagine, something like the feeling in a skydiver’s spirit moments just before the jump. My fingers are shaky, my head and heart overflowing with words, my emotion a strange cocktail of optimism and fear and courage and quiet. I open the door, look out. Here it is:

Hello. I’m Michael King. I’m 25, almost 26. And I’m gay.

This blog post marks my first time really saying so – in clear terms and not context clues. Over the past few years, as I’ve gathered the courage to raise my voice and share my story, I have become convinced of the significance of taking this step. Of saying these words. We are not meant to hide ourselves; we should take heart and speak ourselves into existence. Those last four words have become commonplace in my conversations with LGBT friends and family. The courage to share our stories is essential, as stories light the way for those who may feel surrounded by fog. So here is me putting my words into action. My story is important; I’m telling it.

Continue reading “into existence.” →