HERE’S MY STORY is a new feature on The G&LR’s website, where you can share some part of your life story with other readers. We receive a lot of submissions of personal memoirs, but the magazine doesn’t publish first-person narratives as a general rule. “Here’s My Story” is a space that allows our readers (and others) to talk about their experiences as members of the LGBT+ community. There are no restrictions on subject matter, but some broad areas might include:
- Coming-out stories
- Memorable love affairs
- An epiphany (e.g. a work of art)
Click here to submit a proposal or an article (< 1,000 words, please) for publication. Also include a photo or two that could be included with the piece, as well as a pic of yourself and a short bio.
We will help you with editing as required.
By Nina Kennedy
As a teenager, I performed as a piano soloist throughout the U.S., South America, and the Caribbean. Eventually I came to New York to study at Juilliard and continued to search for love in women’s bars. My second year at Juilliard, I met the woman who taught me what love was …More
By Diana Souhami
My need for self-expression began as a struggle with otherness, my confusion and inarticulacy about being lesbian. I was born in 1940. I grew up without words to express what I felt and with no one to tell them to, even if I could have found such words. I had no role models, no books to read.
By Marcus Talberg
The summer I turned 13, I’d almost managed to accept that I’m gay. At the time I didn’t have anyone I could talk to about it. There were no role models that I could relate to, and it was back in the early 2000s, long before social media. The idea of meeting people over the internet was still very new.
By Isabel Grey
Even my earliest memories are those of not recognizing my reflection in the mirror. I expected to see long hair. What I saw looking back was a feminine child with soft features and white eyebrows, crying hard as a barber shaped and trimmed my sandy hair into a short bowl cut.
[I] saw a small piece of paper folded up many times. I pulled it out, unfolded it, and saw these words: “Dear Mom and Dad: I love you very much. I hope you will not find this note until I am at least 18 and out of the house, but I am gay. This is not your fault. I am still your son. I love you, Paul.”
By Opa Hysea Wise
It’s been decades since I came out as a queer, mixed-race brown woman. And still the last bastions of feeling like an “other” nip at my heels. Perhaps, it is my shaved head and my brown skin that covers the faint remnant of a muscular build from years of weight training that gives people pause.