By Matthew Bamberg
San Francisco’s epidemic tidal wave began just a few short years after Dianne Feinstein heard gunshots in San Francisco’s City Hall, and then found Mayor George Moscone and Supervisor Harvey Milk with a spatter of gunshot wounds that killed them both. It was time for my coming out.
By Cory Allen
Working in such a hyper-masculine career field, for an agency where the Sheriff could fire you for any reason, added to the anxiety and fear of revealing who I was.
By Garrett Glaser
I never brought up the subject of an on-air disclosure to NBC, so station executives had nothing to prohibit. I always figured it was inappropriate for any reporter to make themself a part of the story they were covering; that’s how I was educated.
By Melissa Giberson
But my journey to figuring out who I was, looking back from the other side of the threshold I unintentionally breached, officially began with that imposing question. I might as well have asked, “Who am I?” as if in some amnesic state, because suddenly I had no idea.
By John Brady McDonald
While it is true that it has been over twenty years since I’ve been in a relationship with a man, it’s always awkward to explain to others that my attraction to men isn’t something I ‘switched off,’ and that it is no different than a heterosexual relationship built on trust, love, and loyalty.
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By Jonathan Fuller
But when my friends from youth group started confessing who, in that incredibly small pool, they had a crush on, my innermost thoughts betrayed me. The face I pictured belonged to E.
By Caitlin Hanratty
“Uh huh,” I reply, as if it’s a universal truth: we fall in love with people as individuals, not their gender. I am following a new logic, though I don’t quite understand it.
By Charles Roussel
At 58, I outed myself through a series of conversations on Zoom, in the middle of the pandemic.
By Susan Olmi
It was so easy that for a long time I didn’t understand what that sensation of being constantly ecstatic and slightly breathless was. It finally struck me when I realized that I had fallen for a friend of mine.
By Rich Nelson
I was sixteen in 1968, when I first saw him. I had remained silent in concealing my emerging and persistent-and terrifying-affection for the male form.
