FACES OF US

Merced, CA

2010-04-28T12:35:00.001-07:00

Tom Hothem, Merced, CA

Merced, CA

2010-04-28T12:34:00.000-07:00

Kristi Imberi-Olivares, Merced, CA

New Year

2010-01-03T14:47:00.000-08:00

The past year was a landmark year for LGBT advocates. Victories (and some losses) across the country brought LGBT issues to the forefront of American attention, but the fight is not over!

In 2010 we are going to make sure that people around the country know who LGBT people are and why we are fighting for equality. So, tell your friends, relatives, neighbors and coworkers to submit a photo to Faces of Us.

All anyone needs to do is take a photo with their message about their identity or about equality and send it to thefacesofus@gmail.com. Be sure to include your full name, city, and state!

Happy New Year!

Western Australia, Australia

2009-11-08T09:46:00.000-08:00

Chanel, Western Australia, Australia

Richmond, KY

2009-11-01T14:56:00.000-08:00

Ellie Kissel, Richmond, KY

New York, NY

2009-10-12T22:49:00.000-07:00

Cynthia Nixon & Friends, New York, NY

Boston, MA

2009-10-12T22:47:00.000-07:00

Keith Rosenthal, Ata Gurpinar, & Rena DesRosiers, Boston, MA

Orlando, FL

2009-10-12T22:44:00.000-07:00

Diana Iwanski, Steph Jones, Betty Robertsa Iwanski, Donna Iwanski Greenberg, Nadezda Stefanavic, Orlando, FL

Coming Out in Support of My Children in North Baldwin, NY

2009-10-12T22:34:00.000-07:00

By Mary Halberstadt

I have three loving, giving, kind, sensitive, intelligent and wonderful kids. One is transgender, one is heterosexual and the other is gay. Should I love any of them less because of their sexual orientations and identities? Should they be treated with any less respect because of this aspect of who they are?

The world is a better place because of my children. Imagine if people could accept them for who they are and not judge them using outdated standards. If we all open our hearts and our minds we will be able to appreciate diversity instead of being threatened by it.

Coming Out in Dallas, TX

2009-10-10T08:06:00.000-07:00

By Marki Anderson

I live in a small town southeast of Dallas and came out at a very young age.

When I was fourteen I told my mom about my first girlfriend and I and how I felt. At the moment she was stunned but assumed it was just a phase. As the years went on the reality set in and she began to worry over how much trouble I will have to face in my life on top of all of the typical obstacles teenagers have to overcome. I dealt with name calling and sometimes even physical abuse from my peers throughout high school, along with discrimination from staff and even one teacher telling me in front of a class that I will go to hell. Throughout all of this my family was there for me, and I love them more than anything for it. In the end I lost a few friends, was estranged from some family, and lost perhaps the love of my life due to the fear of the narrow-mindedness I had to endure; but if that which doesn't kill you makes you stronger I should be nearly invincible.

Coming Out in Danville, VA

2009-10-10T07:57:00.001-07:00

By Bekka Lipscomb

I, with everyone else in the world I suppose, sometimes imagine what life would be like if things had turned out differently. What would have happened if my mother hadn't pulled me out of public school to homeschool? What would have happened if she hadn't been diagnosed with a rare, terminal illness? What if...What if...A million questions always running through my mind all the time. The thing is, I know what would have happened.

I would still be a Christian.

I would still be close-minded.

I would most definitely still be a bitch.

I would have never realized that I was gay.

Therefore, I would have never come out.

Living in conservative Virginia leads to a sort of sheltered existence, where one is vaguely aware of the 'outside world' but doesn't really inhabit it. I was ten when I discovered what the word 'gay' meant. The idea rolled around in my head, but I adamantly refused to believe it had anything to do with me. I just had a "different" sort of interest in boys. There is a distinct memory within me of my mother telling me that I would know if I liked a boy if I got butterflies in my stomach whenever they passed by. I tried and tried and tried to work up these sorts of feelings around the boys I was expected to be attracted to, but...nothing.

Some people, coming across those who came out only as adults, often ask how could the late-bloomers not know that something was different about them? How could they not feel the attraction to what was in essence, the wrong sex? The answer is, we knew, but when you're only taught that what you feel in the depths of your mind and soul is a sin, and never taught what love really feels like, you just chalk it up to youthful curiosity and ignore the questions tugging at you. You try to go on with your life without having the answers you need to actually live your life. You date the opposite sex because, that's what you're supposed to do, isn't it?

My coming out story isn't a single, focal point in my life. It wasn't a big gay parade where I shouted to the heavens and the conservatives that I'm a queer and I'm proud. My coming out is the every day victories of having the courage to say to someone, "Yeah, I'm gay." My coming out is not letting people define me by my sexuality, it's letting my coming out be as simple as commenting on the weather. And hopefully, soon enough, that's what it will be.

Coming Out in West Morris, NJ

2009-10-09T21:00:00.000-07:00

By Emily Witko

One Friday night during my junior year of college, I went to a party with some friends and never intended on doing more than drinking a little and dancing a lot. I was having an immense amount of fun and as the party went on it became apparent that something extraordinary was going to happen. That night, I went home with a woman.

Three short months later, I was traveling south to spend my summer conducting psychology research at Western Kentucky University. I learned very quickly that this was going to be a very interesting place to grapple with my sexuality.

Shortly after my arrival, my colleagues and I met a group of guys from a neighboring college. One of the boys instantly latched on to me, and kept following me around, as if we were at a middle school dance and he had chosen his target for the evening. Eventually, somebody told him that I am a lesbian and he came to me shocked and appalled by the news.

I was sitting with my friend, Angie, who is someone who’s had an unforgettable influence in my life, when he strolled over. It was getting late and he had been drinking all night. At this point, he was sweaty, smelly, drunk and annoying. He looked at me, with hurt in his eyes, and said very plainly “why would you ever, ever choose to date a girl when you could have me?!”

I could hardly find the words to respond. Luckily, within seconds, as I sat there dumbfounded, Angie did the most amazing thing: she laughed. She laughed so wholeheartedly that I could not help but join in. I was (and still am) incredibly appreciative of that moment of freedom and loving support.

This one story is merely a snippet of my coming out process. I, along with everyone else you are reading about, live this process every day. Please continue to laugh with us on our way to equality.

Somerville, MA

2009-10-09T20:53:00.000-07:00

It took me fifteen years to figure out who I was. It's been five years since then and sometimes I still feel like no one is listening.

Mitchell Dewar, Somerville, MA

Coming Out in Ringgold, GA

2009-10-09T18:04:00.000-07:00

By Rob Nolen

My hometown is quaint and old-fashioned. It became a busy, successful little town after the Civil War, and many of the buildings built during and after Reconstruction are still standing today. Given these few details, it should go without saying that the people from back home have a values system that aligns quite well with the town’s history. In short: There was no doubt coming out in this environment would be interesting.

I actually came out more times than I can count, as ridiculous as it may sound. My first attempt was during my junior year of high school and ended in humiliation. I had become involved with a guy from my school and, seeing as I was in such a conservative town, was working tirelessly to keep our relationship a secret. There is no question that keeping a relationship hidden is hard work and, after almost a year, I had grown tired of it. I was ready to tell my parents. I spent weeks psyching myself up for the conversation, preparing myself to say with confidence: “I’m gay.” Everything had been planned perfectly. It was Tuesday, and I would be breaking the news after my parents came home from work on Friday. Wednesday evening, while my mom was shopping and my sisters were outside, my step-dad called me into the living room. “Sit down,” he said sternly, “and tell me what the hell is going on between you and this boy.”

Internal panic ensued. I thought to myself, ''How did they know?'' For a split second, my entire body went numb. I can’t even imagine what I looked like, sitting there with a blank stare and paralyzing fear behind my eyes. After a few seconds had passed with no reply from me, he continued. “You can’t do this shit, Rob. It’s not right. Think of what your grandparents would say!” In response, I did the only thing I could think of at the time: I told him I would cut it off and move on, and I did. Looking back, it was clearly not my finest moment. I ruined a relationship based on what someone else’s opinion might be. I failed to take into account what was truly in question: My happiness and the person I knew I was on the inside.

The next few years consisted of many learning experiences. Just as so many others do, I saw college as an opportunity for a new beginning. There were a few kinks in my plan, though. At the time, I was living with my brother and two other friends from high school, so I kept the majority of my personal life a secret. I continued to date girls for years and, even though I love them dearly to this day, I could never make myself fall for any of them completely. During the course of my time in school, I became more and more comfortable with who I was. I began to come out to select groups of friends, colleagues, and, as I moved to different places around campus, prospective roommates. It wasn't long before I had established my identity as someone I was truly comfortable with. During my last semester in college, I fell absolutely head over heels for a guy named Michael and we began dating. We were together for a while, but things eventually fizzled out and we both moved on. One thing that remained, though, was a renewal of the courage I had felt so many years ago. Then, in October 2008, I was pushed over the edge.

I was home visiting family and had decided to visit my old church, where my grandfather had been serving as pastor for over 30 years. A visiting preacher was getting riled up about the “decaying state of the country” and “how the godless are jeopardizing our future.” With each word he spoke, I felt a growing tension and into the depths of my soul, I knew what was coming next. “There was a time in this great nation,” he said, beginning to speak in the singsong tone so characteristic of southern preachers, “that a man who chose to have a relationship with another man was too ashamed of his choices to make it public.” Regardless of whether or not it were true, I immediately felt as if every eye in the building was fixated on me, judging, knowing the secret I had tried to keep for so long. “It’s a shame,” he continued, “because that is exactly how it should be today. These people should be ashamed of what they’ve chosen to be.” I tuned out the rest of the sermon and instead mentally repeated to myself what the man had just said: “These people.”

This was it. It was my turning point. I was one of those people, and there was no doubt in my mind that I was proud of it to my very core. I immediately knew what I needed to do and, after leaving the church, I made a bee-line for my mom’s house. She was waiting at the door when I arrived, almost as if she were anticipating my arrival. (Later on, she told me she didn't know why, but she knew something was wrong and that I needed her.) I told her I needed to talk, and I could see the fear growing in her eyes. Even though I knew this couldn’t be put off any longer, I could not find the words to say. My mind was racing. I finally managed to choke out a sentence: “Remember the guy who sang at my college graduation a few months ago?” For the record, she and I were equally confused as to how this related to anything. “Yes,” she said. “Well, he was my boyfriend.” I could tell she was both devasated and relieved at the same time. She hugged me and cried, assured me she loved me no matter what, and told me that she always had a feeling this was the case, but that she couldn't express how proud she was that I was able to finally tell her.

I could lie and say everything from that point on was smooth sailing, but that's not the case. There have been ups and downs with the family since I told them, and I still struggle with the fact that some people will never understand what they view as my ''choice'' is anything but that. The blessing is that I'm able to find comfort in the relief I still feel after finally being honest with myself for the first time in years. I'm proud of who I am and, even though the past seven years have been a mixture of joy and pain, I wouldn't trade the experience for anything in the world.

Coming Out in Support of a Friend in Marietta, GA

2009-10-09T17:55:00.000-07:00

By Ilana Slomovitz

It was about midnight when my good friend from high school Brendan called me. I had just transferred to my new college, and we talked all the time. So I figured this was just him calling to say, “Hey, what up girl?” or “’Sup playa?!”

When I picked up the phone he asked me if I was sitting down. I immediately sat down, thinking he was going to tell me something terrible had happened, like someone had past away. He said, “I’m gay.” I said, “What?” and he repeated his statement. I was shocked…surprised…my jaw dropped. I didn’t believe it. All of my friends said he was gay, I thought as a joke. I was the only who would say, “You are all ridiculous and for sure wrong.”

I mean Brendan always had a girlfriend. He never displayed or talked about any affection for guys. He was always a little weird in his own way, perhaps a little awkward, but we all were, so I was taken a back. I then told him that coming out was good, and I would support him in whatever he wanted to be. He then told me I was the 2nd person that he came out too, and I felt pretty cool about that.
I’m so proud of Bren for all that he has done for the gay community. He’s making such a difference in many people’s lives. Keep it up! Lylab!

Coming Out in Phoenix, AZ

2009-10-08T20:36:00.000-07:00

"Out Like a Lamb"

By Cody Van Winkle

I remember, the summer before 5th grade, feeling resigned. I knew I liked boys in the way I wasn’t supposed to like boys and I saw it as a great burden I’d be stuck with my whole life. Having just turned nine years old, I felt the way I imagine expectant parents feel when they’re told their fetus has Down Syndrome. I knew I was still having the baby, but I had to accept that it would be faced with life-long difficulties outside the norm. There was nothing I could do to change it.

Afraid to rebel, I continued doing what was expected of me through junior high and high school. Sex didn’t particularly interest me, anyway, so sexuality didn’t seem like something I’d ever have to fight to defend. (That could come later.) I was willing to be a little weird and artsy, but I carefully avoided declaring any particular allegiance when it came to orientation. In college, I focused on my studies and my job and suffering for my art. I honestly never bothered to think about my sexuality as anything other than non-existent.

Gradually, that small part of me from the summer I turned nine (the part that subconsciously related to every gay character in the movies and was MADLY IN LOVE with River Phoenix) grew and fought its way to the surface. As it finally dawned on me as an adult that I’m a homo and that I’m okay with that, I came to realize two things. First, a stifled life of fear and suppression wouldn’t be a life worth living. Second, I am, more than anything, a terrible liar.

Immediately, I jumped into stealth mode. The transition was invisible. I began living openly queer as if it was already old news. I didn’t sit everyone down to explain it, just as I didn’t sit everyone down to tell them I’m a Beatles fan or that I love coconut or that I can’t stand Seinfeld. (Okay, to be honest, I actually avoid that Seinfeld conversation because I’m afraid I’ll get hate crimed.) It never made sense to me to define myself by who I sleep with, and even less to ask everyone to please take a moment and decide what it means to them. I simply continued to live my life as originally scheduled and integrated all personality developments with the same casual indifference. There have been occasional people who have needed the tearful porch swing conversation in order to see the elephant in the room, but they’ve been rare. I’m absolutely terrified of Big Deals, so it’s no accident that my “coming out” was quiet, drama-free and almost seamlessly retroactive.

Everyone gets to forge their own path, and many gay people feel dishonest if they don’t come clean with everyone right away. Maybe they’ve been living a lie or suppressing themselves or hell bent on abolishing any sense of shame. Maybe it’s part of their personal journey toward self-acceptance. I just never felt that urge.

It’s your life. Live it.

Coming Out in Support of My Son in Marietta, GA

2009-10-08T13:55:00.000-07:00

Thanksgiving

By Marylou Davis

Brendan was coming home for the holiday and I was at the airport waiting for him. Usually I stay in my car but my friend Erin was picking up her son also so we decided to meet and wait together. Her son showed up first and we said our good byes and I continued my wait for Brendan.

I spotted him walking toward baggage and called for him. I could not wait to hold him in my arms. We walked out to the car talking about what has been going on in our lives.

When we got in the car Brendan said I need to tell you something. I was thinking what is he going to tell me. He said I’m gay. I was extremely relieved that he told me and that he was happy. I asked many questions and we talked.

What was I thinking after he told me? What I always thought about Brendan M. Davis III. He is my loving, honest and wonderful son.

Coming Out in Framingham, MA

2009-10-07T22:22:00.000-07:00

By Ross Hurwitz

I went through all four years of high school with a girlfriend. I always knew something was different but whether it was denial or something else, I never even thought of coming out. The summer after I graduated I experimented with a friend and found that all my nicely built walls were starting to crack.

I was at college for a week or so when I said to myself that I couldn't lie anymore. This was my chance to start over and I couldn't start with another lie. When I first said anything, it was to my friend Danielle. Actually i was unable to actually say the words, so i typed them. She looked at me and laughed and said "duh! of course you are!" I didn't think it was that funny at the time.

A week or so later I called my parents because I knew they were in town seeing a show. I asked them to drive by the dorm and pick me up because I needed to talk to them. I got in the car and told my dad to drive then thought that him driving was probably not a good idea and told him to pull over. It was excruciating trying to get the words out. I felt ashamed, not about being gay, but that I had lied to them for so long. I mustered my strength and told them. They were surprised but not upset. When I thanked them for being so understanding, my dad turned to me and said "Ross, your mother and I have fought for other people's civil rights for years. Why would you ever think we wouldn't accept and love our own son?" after I stopped crying, my parents dropped me off at the dorm and I suddenly felt, for the first time in my entire life, like I was totally free. I was never more myself than at that moment! It was a feeling I'll never forget.

A day or so later I called my aunt to tell her. There was silence for a moment and I asked if she was OK. She responded that she was fine but really angry and disappointed. I asked why and she said "because none of my other nephews had to call me and tell me they were straight" I think that line sums up the problems with sexuality in our culture. The fact that I felt the necessity to call my family and friends and tell them. I couldn't just be... This country has a long way to go. I know we will have reached full equality when the need to "come out" no longer exists.

PS... when I told my girlfriend she was pissed, but is now my best friend!

You just have to love who you love!

Coming Out in East Hampton, CT

2009-10-07T20:16:00.000-07:00

By Ben Fisher

My Mom and Dad visited two months after I began freshman year—I had yet another opportunity to tell them I was gay. A friend had told me there was no right time and no right place, and I was at least as ready as that advice allowed.

It held true when my older brother was leaving for a camping trip. As he said goodbye stepping into his truck, I realized I wouldn’t see him before I'd leave for college, and with the moment fleeting, I let out “Kyle, I have something to tell you.” He hugged me, told me that he always knew, our family’s love is unconditional, that everything would be all right. When he pulled out of the driveway, I cried. His reaction was that unexpected, but also, I couldn’t believe that I had expected anything less than his acceptance.

I led my parents to sit with me on a bench in Boston’s Christopher Columbus Park. They seemed prepared from the way Mom said, “Okay” to my “Let’s sit here for a second,” and once again, I just said it. Even having told Kyle, their reaction still seemed wrong to me—they had always known, were proud I was ready to tell them, and most of all, happy for me. Among all the coming out emotions we laughed when Mom and Dad shared their ‘yep, he’s gay’ moments: The Wizard of Oz—all the time—how I’d cry when the stepsisters ripped Cinderella’s dress, and how a T-shirt on my head was flipped around like a great head of hair.

But they were worried. They knew not all people would understand, and that some would judge me, not ever give a care who I was, or what my values were if I had that one thing about me. This was some of what I'd come up against, and the prospect hurt. I knew then, and now—their worries were real, but also that their love was unconditional—it allowed me the freedom to realize who I was. My story is a rare story and I am grateful for it. I look forward to a day when there will be more stories like mine, and mine will no longer be so rare.

Coming Out in North Potomac, MD

2009-10-07T19:29:00.000-07:00

By David Sharrocks

I came out during my freshman year of high school. The first batch of people I told happened to be gay or bisexual.

I was invincible, apparently.

Then as more and more people found out I began to notice that I was being treated a little different. People were skiddish at first and not sure how to handle the situation. Boys began to shy away after the thought of my developing a crush on them entered their heads.

And, of course, I did develop crushes. I was a teenager after all. This made finding friends who were boys a little more difficult, so, per tradition, I stuck to my estrogen filled circle of friends.

As high school continued it became less-and-less an issue. I was met with nothing but respect and camaraderie. I even started the schools first Gay-Straight Alliance with my close (and straight) friend. Later that year I came out to my parents who, after a short battle with their conscience and “disappointment,” became incredibly supportive in more ways then I expected.

Embarrassing as it may have been, my mom even escorted me to my first Youth Pride Day in D.C. We met a drag queen named Cookie Buffet. That was amazing.

The summer before my senior year of high school I came out to my older brother during a 9-hour car trip. What compelled me to do it in the 4th hour of the trip is beyond me, but he responded with nothing but support. Later that summer he had college friends visiting and mentioned to me, “Don’t worry, I already told them you’re gay.”

...Necessary? Of course not. But the fact that he felt comfortable enough to share that information with his friends meant a lot to me. My family rocks.

This year I am celebrating my 9th year out of the closet, and it’s still a refreshing place to be.

Coming Out in Charlotte, NC

2009-10-07T11:17:00.000-07:00

By Jack Edwards

If there is anything about transition, especially in the early stages, the stages no one ever really talks about that needs to be understood, it’s how isolating it is. Transition is very much an internal process; there’s no external shift in the beginning, nothing outside of yourself to reference.
In the beginning, it’s nothing more than a feeling, a hint that something is just… off. Like knowing you’ve forgotten something but being unable to figure out what it is, and no matter how hard you try, it always remains right out of reach. I’ve always been the sort of person afraid to trust my instincts, afraid that the things I’m feeling, things intangible to those around me and really even to myself aren’t actually real. This is probably why I spent the ten-plus years of my adolescence and teenage years chasing other boys on the playground, climbing trees, hiding in bathroom stalls to change in the locker room and musing over why all the guys I was attracted to were gay and wearing a big, frou-frou skirt and high heels to prom. I was in denial, pure and simple, for a very long time, and it was that denial that pushed me into a downward spiral of depression and anxiety that eventually culminated in a total nervous breakdown.

But sometimes, its only when we hit rock bottom that we can find the strength to pick ourselves back up again. It’s only when we’ve seen how low we can sink that we can appreciate the importance of living our lives to the fullest. Out of the depths of that depression, I finally discovered myself, who I always was inside, who I was always meant to be. It was a slow process, often times a frightening process. It still is, though nothing was and is more frightening than trying to put all these feelings and thoughts and theories into words and sharing them with someone else. When I finally told someone, nearly two years after I first began consciously considering the possibility, it was easily one of the scariest moments of my life. What if they don’t accept me? What if everything I have, everything I love goes away? For a long time, I wasn’t sure that the trade-off would be worth it. I wasn’t sure if it was worth possibly losing everyone for what felt at times like a selfish decision. I hesitate to refer to transition as a decision, as being transgendered is a state of being, both mental and biological. But there was definitely a decision made to transition. Being this way is certainly not a choice; the only choice that can be made is to go through with it, risk everything to become the person you truly are inside, or to hide it, pretend and live the rest of your life trapped and miserable.

Thankfully, my first experience with coming out to someone close to me was encouraging. Suddenly, it was so much more real, because it wasn’t just inside my head anymore. It was a fact, and as I steadily became more and more open with friends and a few close family members, I finally started becoming truly comfortable with myself. There is no better feeling in the world than listening to someone get the pronouns right after years--decades even--of answering to the wrong ones, and I am incredibly thankful for the support I gained, even in unlikely places. It gave me the strength to get through my rather traumatic coming-out experience with my parents, who yelled and screamed and cried and blamed themselves. They weren’t the only ones that initially rejected me, and I still get strange looks when I tell people my name, or when I run into them coming out of public restrooms. Especially living in the South, and specifically in a county that, while growing steadily and diversifying drastically as the population of Charlotte grows, is still populated by a frightening amount of “good ol’ boys,” I often find myself in very uncomfortable situations.

If there is anything I have learned through this experience, though, it’s that despite all this, even living where I live, you can always be surprised by how understanding and accepting people can be. I’ve been met by support from old high-school friends, ex-boyfriends, teachers and family members alike, and on occasion, even total strangers. Though nothing was quite as rewarding as the day my mother finally sat me down and told me she loved me and wanted me to be happy, no matter what. I know that I am lucky in that regard. I know there are a lot of people in this world that have been cast out and abandoned for far less than this; it sickens me to think about, honestly. But if I have any advice for those out there like me, and those not like me just the same, it’s this: never sacrifice your happiness out of fear. No matter how bad things get, no matter how much you might regret the choices you’ve made, it’s only temporary. One day, you will find that happiness and your past will only have made you stronger for it. Never give up hope.

Coming Out in Champaign, IL

2009-10-07T09:38:00.000-07:00

By Tim Gibbons

It was in preschool when I realized I was different from the other boys in my class but it wasn’t until senior year, about a year ago, when I would actually come out to my parents. Growing up in a very Christian, conservative household in the Midwest gives you that sort of apprehension that will keep you waiting. Throughout my childhood, I remember believing that I was defective and praying that God would take this sickness from me and I could be normal for a second. In retrospect, I realize that it is this mode of thinking that is damaging to many individuals in similar situations as myself.

During my junior year it was getting harder to hide my sexuality from my parents because it was then that I entered my first relationship. This feeling of being completely honest with someone opened my eyes to a life I yearned to live. A few good months were had and as that chapter of my life came to an abrupt and tumultuous halt, my parents sensed something was wrong and this is where our problems began. Increased curiosity in my situation and more secrets at stake on my end led to the equation that would set into motion the events that have shaped the past two years of my life.

I was ultimately dismissed from my house. My parents claim it was my “inability to follow the house rules” that landed me in the situation…as if sexuality can be governed. The words sickness, ashamed, guilt and the like were all part of my parent’s verbal arsenal against me and my case. I spent the rest of my senior year floating from relative’s house to friend’s house to wherever I could find and it’s to these people that I owe my infinite gratitude.

These good Samaritans gave me the chance to escape the negative pressures of the people that surrounded me. While details of my story aren’t exactly the way I wanted them to happen, I have come out of the situation with a much better understanding of myself and who I was made to be. I feel like everything happened for a reason. It may not have been right or fair but it is what has shaped me into the person I am today and I have to be very thankful for that. If there’s one message that I could share with others, it is to stand in the face of adversity and be the person you want to be. Somewhere along the line you’ll meet a person or a group of people and in most cases many of these individuals that understand and empathize with you. It’s these people that make the fight completely worth it and these people that make you want to get up from every stumble and pursue what is right. What is love.

Coming Out in Killingworth, CT

2009-10-07T07:16:00.000-07:00

By Steve Hosking

I could say that I had always known I was different - different in some way, but that would have been untrue. When you’re seven years old, open to the world, and eager to explore everything that captivates you…you don’t think of yourself as different...you just like a lot of things, the same things everyone else does. I didn’t see anything wrong with playing sports or playing dress-up, or even having crushes on both girls and boys. If I liked doing an activity, then I liked to do it. If I liked someone then I liked him or her! I never questioned it.

Then came 6^th grade. One day at lunch a new boy that had just moved in town, trying to fit in, he called me “gay” in front of the whole table. Whether it was meant as sexually derogatory or not everyone else at the table started harassing and laughing at me. In the end, I was sent to the school psychologist along with my parents. The questions never ended, “Did you start this?” “Do you understand the term?” “…Are you gay?”

The voice in my head wanted to scream out to the psychologist, to my teacher, to my parents, “YES, I think I do like guys, so what’s the big deal?” but I wouldn’t let it out. After everything, I thought I had misbehaved or done something terribly wrong. The kids had made it clear: I was different.

It was done. I went through the door – and locked it, never to come out.

For the rest of my schooling I was determined to be normal and accepted by my friends. While I still participated in the activities that I loved, the visual and performing arts, I was always aware of how I acted and tried to keep as “straight” a profile I could. I was happy wearing this mask and by my senior year I was well liked by everyone. I thought it was because I was finally normal enough, but it was probably just cause I was a nice guy.

It wasn’t until the last month of my senior year of High school that I began to see the error of my ways. My best friend Ryan, who I thought was straight, to my shock had come out to me in the beginning of the year. I supported him, yet I still denied the fact to myself. I stood clear of the Gay Straight Alliance club and even kept my mouth shut when Ryan came out to the whole school a few weeks before graduation. I admired him for doing it, but there I stood, wearing my “straight” mask and refusing to take it off.

After graduation, I felt disconnected from everyone. I was severely depressed and anxious to leave home and start college. I realized that it wasn’t so much that I was upset at being different or never having had a real relationship, but that I hadn’t been honest with myself for the past four years. Before I started college, I made a vow to myself:

Sometimes you just gotta let yourself out.

I didn’t care what people would say or even the potential dangers that awaited me. I was going to be open about my sexuality no matter what.

“I’m bisexual. I’m gay. I’m unlabeled.” - I’ve used them all, to my friends, peers, teachers, siblings, and eventually my parents. All of them describe me in some way and in doing so, I felt such a release in spirit. My sexuality is such a small part of my own spectrum and who I am as a human being. It was just as important to accept that small piece, as it was to accept anything else that defined who I was. Since opening up, I have been more confident and have found if you accept yourself, the people in your life will find a way to accept you into theirs.

My coming out is still in its journey, but it is a happy one, one in which I am rediscovering the playful, inquisitive, and open-minded child I started out to be in the first place. We can all “open the door,” and in doing so we start creating a safe and supportive world for our children.

Coming Out in Kennesaw, GA

2009-10-07T06:19:00.000-07:00

By Kerry Smith

I was about seven when I was watching a music video by Madonna.She had women in her limo giving her a lapdance.I asked my dad why she was doing that, he replied "She is bisexual." when I asked what that meant, he said "Shes a sick puppy."

From that point on anytime I even considered telling my parents about my orientation the words "sick puppy" ran on repeat. One night I was writing a letter to a friend about my sexuality and accidentally left it out. They woke me up early the next morning and had an "intervention" of sorts.

The adrenaline rush that came about when I saw my mom holding the letter will never be rivaled. They first explained their reasoning's for opening the letter. Then what they read. They told me not matter what my sexuality they would accept and love me. From that moment my thought process of my homosexuality... being something I'll always hide...became something a little more tolerable by others(including myself).

That morning a "sick puppy" became a son.

You'd be surprised by how much acceptance people can have but it requires you also give them a chance. I regret not believing in others sooner and now never put it past anyone.

Coming Out in Rockford, IL

2009-10-06T21:23:00.000-07:00

By Tynan Sinks

Sometimes I feel like I don’t have much of a story. If I look back on what I might refer to as “hardships” in my life, I’m not sure coming out would even be one of them. I mean it was definitely hard, but all in all think I got lucky. Some people resent me because they feel I didn’t have it “hard enough,” like I haven’t paid my dues for the initiation into the gay club or something. We can be so hard on each other sometimes. Whatever, this is how it was for me.

It’s like this. I went to an extremely conservative Catholic high school. It was the kind of place that you’d see in a comic book or a cartoon, almost a caricature of itself. Girls in plaid skirts and boys in blazers and ties, having catechisms and Hail Mary’s shoved down our throat on a daily basis. Free thinking of any kind was discouraged, and anything that even resembled an alternative lifestyle was avoided a mini-skirt on a Sunday morning. I was sixteen. Luckily, I had been raised in an extremely liberal family that encouraged me to think for myself. Homosexuality was never frowned upon growing up, my parents had many gay friends, and half the time I didn’t even know they were gay, not because they were hiding it, but because it just wasn’t an issue. Needless to say, ideals home life and school conflicted more often than not.

Like many others, I grew up knowing somewhere in the back of my mind that I was gay, it just took me a while to be ready to face it. Then, when I was seventeen, it became clear that I couldn’t avoid it any longer. When people ask me who the hardest person to come out to was, my answer is always the same: Me. There was a long time when I knew, but I just wasn’t ready to deal with it. I could talk for days about how gays should have equal rights and how, despite what we were taught in the classroom, there was nothing wrong with being a homosexual. But when it came down to it, I was petrified to admit that I was one of them.

One of my best friends growing up was gay, and I’ll never forget how hard he had it, coming out and all. His parents sent him to a psychiatrist who all but tortured him for being gay, his parents refused him food, almost disowned him. I’ll never forget the day he came to school with bruises on his neck and told me his dad tried to choke him to death because he was gay. Obviously, this whole ‘coming out’ thing was much more than all the afterschool specials made it seem. He was the strongest gay role model I had in my life, so naturally he was the one I went to first when there was a “possibility I might be gay.” It hit me like a ton of bricks when he said “If you were straight, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Harsh? Maybe. But it’s exactly what I needed to hear.

After that night, it was pretty much set in stone. It all was just a matter of how to deal. I was blessed to have a great group of friends who I knew would accept me no matter what, so slowly but surely, I told each of them. No big deal. Before I knew it, thanks to the high school rumor mill, I was out to pretty much everyone whether I wanted to be or not. To my surprise, no one treated me any different. It was almost like people respected me more for being my true self. I think some of them saw it as a big “fuck you” to the Catholic school system, which won them over. Whatever it takes, I guess.

The last and final step to my whole process, and the one that was the hardest, besides admitting it to myself, was telling my parents. As I said, they were incredibly liberal and were friends with many gays and lesbians, but that still didn’t make it any easier. There’s just something about telling your parents that is so…final. Telling your friends is great, but it’s like practice, if you don’t like one person’s reaction, hopefully the next person you tell will react better. You can gauge all of the reactions and sort of come up with an average. But you’ve only got one shot to tell you family. I told mine after dinner. We’re not a very serious family, so when I said “I need to tell you guys something” at the dinner table, they knew something was up. I think my exact words were:

Tynan: “I guess I just wanted you guys to know that I’m gay.”

Silence.

Mom: “How long have you known?”
Tynan: “Forever, I guess.”

Then I cried for two hours straight. I don’t even know WHY. I just felt like it was huge weight off of my shoulders, and I had nothing to hide anymore. I was at home in my own house again. My parents finally knew who I was again. I wasn’t living a lie. I had officially come out and the world kept on turning.

I know so many guys like me who have had it so rough, who were not nearly as lucky as I was and are still having trouble with their friends and family after years of struggle. Some of them aren’t even out to one or both of their parents, for one reason or another, which I just can’t imagine. But there it is. There truly isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t appreciate how easy I had it. But maybe that’s a good thing, you know? Maybe it’s a sign of the times. Maybe people are finally starting to realize that there are a whole slew of other things that I could be that are worse than gay. That’s what I hope, at least. Someday we will learn, I really do think that despite everything, we are already learning.

Coming Out in Kingston, NH

2009-10-06T20:24:00.000-07:00

By Jessie McAskill

When I began thinking about how I actually ended up “coming out” I realized that term just doesn’t apply to me. I feel more like I was playing hide and seek, waiting quietly for someone to find me in my dads closet while I played with his ties. Sure, I would crack the door open to let a little light in but just when my eyes started to adjust, I would slam it shut again and continue to wait with that nervous excited feeling that makes you feel like your breathing really loud.

I remember in middle school at one point thinking about the possibility that the feelings I had toward some women were not entirely platonic, but true to form I rebuked myself and slammed that door shut again in a way that I’m sure made a loud enough noise to give me away. My justification for the feelings I had was that I wanted to emulate them, to be their best friend, to incorporate them somehow into my existence. Why this led me to further believe that I was not gay remains questionable.

When I was a sophomore in high school I transferred out of the school system I had been in for nine years and went to a small Catholic school outside of town. I entered high school and for the first time I was a new kid. I forced myself to make friends and about two months in I met the person who would finally catch me peeking out of the crack in the door. By spring of that year I was in a situation with another girl. I use the word “situation” because “relationship” seems as though it should be reserved for legitimate entities. We snuck around in private, we fought, we made up, we made out, and we were in love. Yet, instead of being the person who I thought would pull me out of the closet, she climbed in with me and leached off my hiding spot. There we were together. Waiting.

What I didn’t know at the time was that in that space we were digging ourselves deeper into a completely unnecessary shame. For three years we did this. I felt tortured and lonely and guilt- wracked. There was no escape. While we had been doing all the things that couples do for a very long time, neither of us could fully admit to others or ourselves that we were not straight. At this point, we had built a fort in the closet and locked ourselves in.

We eventually went our separate ways to separate colleges but remain friends. Individually we each began exploring our options. Much to surprise (and I must admit, dismay) she had a new girl in her life within a month of being at school that she went on to have a proud and open relationship with. I had a harder time, but I learned how to have those awkward conversations that I had been so eager to avoid. I told my parents who were not surprised and really not all that concerned. I stumbled around my first couple years and eventually figured out that yes, I am gay and I owed it to my friends and family to prove me wrong about how they would react. They all did. All the shame that I built my fortress out of leaked from under the crack of the door and when I finally took hold of the handle myself and opened it I found that I had been shutting out my happiness, the people who I love, and any chance at all of getting laid. I had become a stranger to myself, living in darkness, wanting someone else to force me to do what only I could do.

After going through that experience I find that it’s time for me to pick myself up and fight for the ones who can’t crack the door open. GLBT inequality leads to shame and fear, which leads to violence and self-harm. I’m speaking up with the hope that my muffled voice might penetrate the ears of those who find themselves buried in dark spaces afraid of the light. I’m speaking up in order to sway the minds of those who would wish to turn out that light of hope forever. All of us on this side of the door bear that responsibility to the ones who aren’t.

Coming Out in Asheville, NC

2009-10-06T19:54:00.000-07:00

By Tyler Toomey

I went through a period of questioning during the end of middle school. I may have always been questioning, but just never realized it until then. Being a child, I knew nothing about being gay, except that the bible said “homosexuality was a sin”.

What does that even mean to a kid who doesn’t go to church? For some reason I got the impression
that I shouldn’t be thinking the way that I was, and kept my curious mind hidden. The truth always will present itself; regardless of how are you attempt to hold it back. The next thing I know, all the
students in my 8th grade class believe that I’m gay, before I even know it myself. Of course, the usual teenage jokes occurred, like my “diary” about how I liked the boys in school, as well as the more
serious verbal assaults between classes. My peers didn’t just harass me, but my friends as well.

In high school kids don’t mess around. The shouting of “faggot” in the hall soon became a good morning message, as well as in class, at assemblies, everywhere. I was fine until I started hearing the same from my parents. Adolescence isn’t the best time for someone to encounter anything like this. And I hate to imagine the young deaths that are caused because of lgbt harassment to this day.

It took me years to become perfectly happy with who I am as a human being. And now I advocate for safe school policies. I don’t believe even one child should have to face even the minor things that I went through. Kids need a safe place to go in school, regardless of who they are. Support, whether it be from a friend, family member, or teacher is hope. And hope, is what everyone needs.

“All men are created equal. No matter how hard you try, you can never
erase those words.” Harvey Milk

Coming Out in San Antonio, TX

2009-10-06T07:05:00.000-07:00

By Adam Eisenhut

Coming out was like riding a roller coaster. I had eased myself into a relationship with my first boyfriend, not saying anything publicly and not even telling him too much of what was going on. Day by day I was clicking up that first peak. The night I was completely honest with him and we decided to make it “official,” I was in ecstasy. I could look over my entire life and understood so much more about myself. I was so overcome with joy and relief by having admitted to even just one person that I was gay that my body shook with no other outlet for the emotion.
And then the release.
Whether I was ready or not, the process of coming out had begun and was about to happen faster than I had ever dreamed. I told very few people myself, and in fact only remember telling one. At the time, I was attending an arts school for musical theater so one was enough. The news spread like wild fire. I was lucky not to face any adversity from my friends. They were supportive and being out helped a lot of my friendships as I had more confidence to open myself up to others.
I knew, however, that being out would not improve my relationship with my parents and hid my sexuality from them for another six months. Eventually, in a fight I was having with my mother over her not liking the fact that I had gay friends she said,
“I don’t like you hanging out with those people.”
“Those people? What if I’m one of those people?”
“Well, are you?”
“Maybe.”
I came out like a five year old who was admitting to having drawn on the wall in crayon, but I was out. She told me that my father cold never know, (I hadn’t planned on telling him, so I was glad she wasn’t going to) and reminded me how wrong I was, that there was no way I could be gay and a Christian. She told me that she would not just sit back and watch this happen to me; that Satan would not steal her son away from her.
We went through phases. There were times that we could co-exist and as long as she could convince herself that there was a glimmer of hope that I may not actually be gay and we would be fine. But as soon as she was faced with the cold, hard, glittery truth she would fall into a fit of depression and lock herself in her room. At some of the lower points, she would accuse me of being a whore-as all gay men clearly are and now that I was one I must be too, I overheard her telling my sister that she couldn’t stand being around me, and she tried to force me into a session with a Christian Psychologist.
My dad did find out, and to this day I have trouble forgiving myself for not having more trust in him to begin with. He offered his support as awkward as it might be as he tries to figure out how to deal with a gay son, but he reinforced his love and told me that he would be there if I needed it. I couldn’t have asked for more. I was so ashamed of myself for not having told him myself that I couldn’t look him in the face as he told me.
And then the ride leveled out. I went off to college, half way across the country; my mom and I get along, but we don’t talk about the gay thing. Unfortunately, for now, that’s the solution to our relationship. I have been working on being proud of who I am and finding my own happiness in that. I have learned that I can’t make my mom happy; she has to find happiness on her own. I hope one day she’ll ask me if I am seeing anyone, or that she’ll show up to my wedding when it happens, but in the mean time, we’ll take baby steps. And perhaps we won’t ever get to the stasis I desire.
Now that I seem to just be coasting, with my wind tossed hair and hoarse throat, I grin as I look back on the ride. I learned so much about myself and what is important in life. Happiness is found when you are proud of who you are, and while it might not have been the smoothest experience, I have found my pride, and I have found my happiness.

Coming Out in North Baldwin, NY

2009-10-05T23:51:00.000-07:00

Six Colors on a Chain
by MJ Halberstadt

When I was eight, I loved The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, so when I woke up one morning and stumbled upon a necklace with six colored rings that looked just like the medallions Link collects during his adventures in Hyrule, I knew I had to wear it. I put on the necklace and went into the Toy Room to play Nintendo.

When my father looked into the room, he was shocked to see his son wearing a rainbow choker necklace. He immediately burst into my sister Melissa’s room.

“You need to get your necklace off your little brother’s neck.”

“Hey Mike… can I talk to you for a second?”

I did not want to pause my game.

“You know that’s not your necklace, right?”

I wanted to make the guilt lecture go by as quickly as possible so I could get back to my video game, so I went to take it off. Melissa was not the type to get angry, but I was the type to feel guilty.

“There’s a reason why you shouldn’t wear it—that type of necklace is for people who are gay. Do you know what gay means?”

I only knew that ‘gay’ meant something awful. I’d heard it on the playground, and knew that it was something that I didn’t want to be, like ‘retarded’ or a ‘pansy’. My sister proceeded to explain just what gay meant, and confessed to me that she was, herself, gay. I remember thinking, ‘Okay, whatever, can I get back to my game!?’

“Are you okay with that?”

Yes! Who cares?

I told her, “I’m gay too.”

This begged explanation.

“Well… a gay boy is one who loves other boys, and I love Daddy and he’s a boy, so that makes me gay too.”

“No,” she laughed, “what I mean is when a boy loves a boy the way Daddy loves Mommy. And I’m a girl who loves other girls. You’re a boy who loves girls, so you’re not gay.”

I brushed this off, still confused, and asked if I could get back to my video game. Melissa kissed me and left.

- = -

Melissa was wrong about three things:

1) Our parents weren’t the best example of romantic feelings—they got divorced two years later.

2) She is not a ‘girl who loves other girls’—she is a FTM transgender man who I have since began to refer to as ‘he’, ‘my brother’ and ‘Levi’.

3) I am gay, as a matter of fact.

- = -

For Christmas some years ago, Levi handed me a small box and said, “Happy Solstice,” a sort of inside joke. I found the necklace inside and laughed.

“Sorry for telling you you weren’t gay—that probably confused you even more,”

Six colors on a standard chain. It’s not flashy, it’s not intrusive, it’s just a suggestion of the multi-faceted nature of my life and one of the many things that defines me.

What's Your Story?

2009-10-05T22:37:00.000-07:00

National Coming Out day is October 11th.

In the days surrounding October 11th Faces of Us will open up to allow people to share their own personal stories about coming out. In the following days, Faces of Us will become a forum for stories from LGBT people, friends, and family who have stories about coming out, or about somebody coming out to them.

Have a story? Tell it here!

If you'd like to tell your coming out story, submit 300-500 words to thefacesofus@gmail.com . Please include a photo of yourself holding up a sign promoting equality, an end to homophobia, or a positive message about LGBT people. Be sure to include your name, city, and state! Stories can be happy, funny, sad, or a whole host of other feelings. Every person's experience is unique!

Thurmont, MD & Amherst, MA

2009-10-04T22:28:00.000-07:00

Jenny Viets, Thurmont, MD & Amherst, MA

Montclair, NJ; Woodcliff Lake, NJ; Demoines, IA

2009-09-26T16:11:00.000-07:00

Scout Opatut, Montclair, NJ
Ross Weiner, Woodcliff Lake, NJ
Jako, Demoines, IA

Morgantown, WV

2009-09-18T08:43:00.001-07:00

Alexandra McConnell-Trivelli, Morgantown, WV

Santa Monica, CA

2009-09-18T08:41:00.000-07:00

Laura Purveiance, Santa Monica, CA

San Francisco, CA

2009-09-18T08:34:00.000-07:00

Katie-Rose Breslin, San Francisco, CA

(Participating in a Anti-Prop 8 rally in Boston)

Somerville, MA

2009-09-18T08:33:00.001-07:00

Brien Lyons & Kelly Goggin, Somerville, MA

Hopkington, MA & New Braintree, MA

2009-09-18T08:30:00.000-07:00

Toly Klebanor, Hopkington, MA & Amanda Kirdulis, New Braintree, MA

Townsend, MA & Boxborough, MA

2009-09-18T08:26:00.000-07:00

Liz Bender, Townsend, MA & Henry Soorun, Boxborough, MA

Denver, CO

2009-09-18T08:23:00.000-07:00

Jessie Baxter, Denver, CO

New York, NY

2009-08-27T00:18:00.001-07:00

Maya/Nate, New York, NY

Cambridge, MA

2009-08-24T10:49:00.001-07:00

William Michael Kelly Stallings and Paul Gregory Nauert, Cambridge, MA

Patzcuaro, Michoacan, Mexico

2009-08-23T09:49:00.000-07:00

Edwin Broyles, Patzcuaro, Michoacan, Mexico

Saugerties, NY

2009-08-21T07:24:00.000-07:00

Bill Yosh, Saugerties, NY

Kingston, NY

2009-08-20T19:46:00.001-07:00

Kelly Boungard, Kingston, NY

Anchorage, AK

2009-08-09T21:12:00.000-07:00

Ansley Gwinn, Anchorage, AK

New York, NY

2009-08-07T20:42:00.000-07:00

Gavin, Kaitlin, Maria & Will, New York, NY

Melbourne, FL

2009-08-03T23:57:00.000-07:00

Jillian Treffeisen, Melbourne, FL

Boston, MA

2009-07-27T19:33:00.000-07:00

Amanda Seamus Cameron, Boston, MA

Mexico City, Mexico

2009-07-27T09:45:00.001-07:00

Pablo Ortega, Mexico City, Mexico

Boston, MA

2009-07-20T09:09:00.001-07:00

Branden Smith, Hannah DeRemer, Ryan McGovern, Katherine Wright, Emily Hagen,
Boston, MA

Fairbanks, AK

2009-07-08T21:33:00.000-07:00

Cameron Carroll & Leah Hill, Fairbanks, AL

Blue Springs, MO

2009-07-06T21:20:00.000-07:00

Amber "Bob" Flood, Blue Springs, MO

Boston, MA & Montreal, QC

2009-07-05T22:00:00.001-07:00

Kristina Blanchflower, Boston, MA & Talia Ralph, Montreal, QC

Baton Rouge, LA

2009-06-30T10:25:00.001-07:00

Catherine & Pradeep Ardarkar

Annual Pride Service at the Unitarian Church of Baton Rouge, LA

2009-06-29T19:36:00.000-07:00

Clifton, Julia, & Jennifer
Annual Pride Service at the Unitarian Church of Baton Rouge, LA

Baton Rouge, LA

2009-06-29T19:27:00.001-07:00

Catherine & Pradeep Ardarkar

Annual Pride Service at the Unitarian Church of Baton Rouge, LA

New York, NY

2009-06-27T22:07:00.000-07:00

Michael Metts, Terri Garcia-Lee, & Paul A. Winkler, New York, NY

North Bergen, NJ & Staten Island, NY

2009-06-27T22:05:00.000-07:00

Sas Velez & Mary Napoles, North Bergen, NJ
Darlene Foscale, Staten Island, NY

New York, NY & London, UK

2009-06-27T22:02:00.000-07:00

Ian Riese & Elaine "Shorty" Chan, New York, NY
Becca Barrett, London, UK

Miami, FL

2009-06-27T22:01:00.000-07:00

Daniela Cuevas, Nicole Marimon, & Omar Gonzalez, Miami, FL

New York, NY & New Orleans, LA

2009-06-27T21:55:00.000-07:00

Scott, Brooklyn, NY
Justin, New Orleans, LA
Jonathan, New York, NY

Albany, NY

2009-06-27T13:49:00.000-07:00

Elena Cruzallen, Albany, NY

New York, NY

2009-06-27T13:46:00.000-07:00

Laura Gruberg, New York, NY

Kansas City, MO & Manorville, NY

2009-06-27T13:42:00.000-07:00

2009-06-26T23:45:00.001-07:00

Jason Littman & Shloimy Notik, New York, NY