I started watching "Glee" right around the start of the second season (and I’ll admit, I was hooked from the start.) Granted, most of the critics and fans abandoned the television show in droves somewhere between then and the sixth season, but I felt some form of dedication to finish the show out. I always need that kind of closure except in the case of shows like "Criminal Minds", where once they took my favorite character off, I abandoned the show quicker than a snow cone melting in hell.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Glee had its fair share of mishaps. I mean, who can forget when the coach and main antagonist, Sue Sylvester, married herself in the second season? But just one of the many things I learned from the countless hours of watching "Glee" was this: When Glee does something right, they do it right. For example, remember when the football coach, Coach Beiste, left her abusive husband? As he was yelling after her, trying to remind her “who’s going to love you?” she turned back, coldly, and replied, “I will love me.” Now that, that’s how you do something right.

So, somewhere in the sixth season of "Glee", the writers decided to pull out all the stops and represent so much of the LGBT community. From organizing a 200-member all transgender choir, to the simple showing the gay football player being a total arrogant asshole. Now, there are multiple shows, such as "The Fosters" on ABC Family (which features two mothers and has set the record for the youngest same-sex kiss between two 13-year-old boys), and shows such as "Empire" and "How To Get Away With Murder", which casually tossed in LGBT characters into their stories.

The LGBT characters in "Glee" truly had an impact on representation. I mean, what other show out there would you expect to see a double wedding between two same-sex couples in the matter of an hour? Where else would you get to witness someone going through the transition to becoming who they are with a gender reassignment surgery? Even before then, "Glee" touched on so many social issues, LGBT-related or not.

So when the gay football player, Spencer, was first introduced to the "Glee" audience, he made the claim that “positive representation in mass media gave him the confidence to be who he was, and that happened to be an arrogant jerk,” I cheered a bit. Finally, a gay character that isn’t playing into all the stereotypes, and has way more labels than just gay, let’s praise the writers of "Glee" for this one!

But really, is there a true, fair representation in the media?

Because, and my apologies to the writers of "Glee", representation still is awful.

It’s still almost impossible for a television show to have two gay characters, and have them simply be friends. They have to end up in a relationship (I’m looking at you, "Nashville".)

I am a gay male. I’ve been in a happy (and completely committed, by the way) relationship for the past year and few months. We’re also doing long distance, and it’s a struggle, but we survive. Neither one of us, however, is only gay.

I’m a college student studying English. I work retail, and I love to write my own music. He’s finishing up high school and does so much with the technical side of theatre. Neither one of us are the flamboyant center of attention that stereotypes love to paint us. I mean, in both of our cases, everyone always assumed that our best friends were the gay ones, and we were the straight ones.

Why is that? Why does everyone just apply the stereotypes, and figure that they fit them way better than we do?

Representation.

I could probably list the most notable gay politicians and athletes on one hand (Harvey Milk and Michael Sam). Yet, after doing some research, all 50 states have been served by an openly LGBT politician in some capacity, whether at the state or national level. It’s great, because they aren’t remembered as the LGBT politician, but it’s awful, because very few people have ever even heard of them or realize they exist in their state. There are so many more openly LGBT athletes than just Michael Sam. These are just the first names to pop into anyone’s head.

What’s really hard though is seeing balanced gay role models. A lot of people often make the argument, however, that people shouldn’t need role models that are gay just because they are gay. In a perfect world? Yes. I wouldn’t need to comb through the internet to try to find a gay lawyer who could inspire me to follow that dream, because I could look up to any lawyer.

It doesn’t stop in occupation. Let’s focus in on the ways of life. The Catholic gays, the atheists, the Muslims. How they see the afterlife, how people interact. Why do people always associate the flamboyantly extrovert as the gay stereotype? My boyfriend and I both are about as introverted as they come. What about sense of humor? The gay characters get the highbrow sense of humor, when honestly, I have one of the driest and darkest senses of humor you could ever see. Why does the LGBT community have such a hard time with the idea of a committed relationship? We don’t all go around and sleep with each other.

But for years, gay characters and people have the stereotypically more feminine jobs. We are painted as “wannabe women,” given the more stereotypically effeminate characteristics, the lisp, the limp wrist, the fashion sense. There’s even so much dispersion in the gay community, gay men priding themselves on being “straight acting.” Gay men blame other gay men for dancing and wearing skimpy clothes in public, saying that’s not how gays should act.

Saying gays shouldn’t behave in a certain way is saying that behaving a certain way is gay.

The argument for equality is constantly people screaming at the top of their lungs “we need to show them we’re the same, that we’re no different from any of them!” And, we are. Showing that we have the obnoxious, but we have the mundane, the nerdy, the smart, and the jocks. "Glee" did a superb job of attempting to give LGBT characters a wide variety of background, and really tried to dispel the idea that “gay men are only gay because they didn’t have a male role model.” Kurt, the first gay character viewers were introduced to in "Glee", lost his mother at a young age, and was raised by a single dad.

We in the LGBT community are not the one-dimensional characters that the media paints. Even though it seems I am singing praises of "Glee", we need to remember their first transgender character, who’s storyline centered around them being transgender, and we can’t forget how big they dropped the ball on Santana’s coming out story line, giving her a mere episode in the third season, and only kind of adding onto it in the final season by bringing back the Grandmother that disowned her.

And that is where my issue was when I decided to come out. That, and I was simply too afraid of their reaction. "Glee" definitely helped push the envelope and got the ball rolling for so many people, giving them the courage to come out to their friends and family.

Me, on the other hand, didn’t have that courage. I texted my best friend that I had feelings for my now boyfriend, and that’s how I came out to him. I told my parents right before my boyfriend and I started dating, and that was over FaceTime while I sat up at college, worried about what they might say. And part of that was the idea that, if they reacted badly, I would need to have a back up plan.

Even after that, coming out was a struggle for me. I never told any of my aunts, or my grandparents. I either let Facebook take care of that, or had my mom tell them. Granted, I never truly cared how they would react. I always prepared for the worst, however.

But they didn’t react horribly. I truly am blessed with such amazing friends and family that willingly support me throughout everything.

The only one that truly reacted poorly was my brother. Granted, he and I never had a great relationship. "Glee" also touched on that, showing how Blaine dealt with constantly feeling overshadowed by his brother.

My point is this: I’m not one-dimensional. I’m not just gay. I’m an English Major. I’m an uncle. I work in retail, and I’ve worked fast food. I cried when my dad left for war, and I cried when he came back. I have Sensory Processing Disorder, something no one really knows about. I have more anxiety problems than most people could ever even imagine. I still get butterflies when I hear my boyfriend say my name, and I feel sparks when I kiss him. More importantly however, I’m sarcastic and funny.

I’m not the one-dimensional character shown on the media. I’m not a supporting character, I’m the main character damn it. I’m not a supporting role, and I definitely am not the sassy gay friend.

Let me reemphasize that; make sure the point gets across.

I AM NOT THE SASSY GAY FRIEND.

Okay, yeah, I’ll admit it, I can get pretty sarcastic and sassy sometimes, but the point remains. I am more than what my sexuality stereotypes me as.

So if I’m more than my sexuality, why did on the phone with her other friend, one of my good friends say she’s with her “gay best friend”? I’m her best friend, and the need to clarify my sexuality simply hurt. In the same night, she asked me what I thought of her outfit; her only claim to why she asked me was “well, you’re gay. You’re good at this stuff.” I’m far from good with fashion.

Throughout high school, I dressed like a cartoon character. I had seven black shirts and three pairs of jeans, each looked exactly identical, and each one worn on a different day. When I finally decided to mix it up and wear colors, my family reacted with shock.

For the record, and my apologies ladies, I definitely don’t want to go wedding dress shopping with you. There’s nothing I would hate more than sitting there while you all tried on wedding dresses. So please, for the love of God, stop asking me that. Please.

Why am I supposedly “their gay” when I’m my own person, so much more. I’m not their property. Why is it that, when I’m with my friend in her dorm room, she insists on never referring to my name, just “he’s gay.”

You see, my point right now is that I want the people of the world to know I’m gay, just not in that way. I’m so much more than gay.

I’m Tanner. I’m 6’2. I’m 21 years old. I hate fashion (despite what people think, it’s not genetically born into me.) I love popular culture, and I’m an okay cook. I try to play video games as much as I can. I love to sing, despite the noise that comes out of my mouth. I watch more Hulu Plus than I do Netflix, despite the college student stereotypes. I love rabbits. I love my Apple products, and I’m about as stubborn as a mule. I’m an uncle, and I spoil my nephew like no other (I mean, I’m cool uncle Tanner who bought him drums for his birthday, despite what his father said).

None of these are my true identifier. None of these single things. I am all of them. All of them make me, Tanner.

Spencer, the "Glee" character the seemed to have confidence ooze out of him, made the comment that he had to try three times as hard as everyone else in order to prove that he wasn’t “just another homo.”

And because of that, I’ll sit here. I’ll sit here, ready to broadcast how I am, and how I live. I’m not saying it’s how everyone should live, but I’m saying that I, in my mundane college life, can give representation. I may wind up being known as “the gay writer” or “the gay blogger,” and I’ll embrace that role, until the day, that I can be known as the writer, or the blogger, or the lawyer if I choose to pursue that occupation. I’ll more than happily accept the role of the gay lawyer to inspire every other LGBT person that aspires to be a great member in law.

So here’s to "Glee", for showing more depth to the gay characters, and paving the way for diversity. Here’s to "The Fosters", for showing how important it is for everyone to know that their first crush, despite who it is, whether same gender or not, is just as important as the other. Here’s to "Modern Family", because, well, I know that they’ve pushed the envelope with the gay couple they feature on their show.

Here’s to every gay person that’s broadcasting his or her life to promote visibility. And here’s to the everyday people that aren’t afraid to admit they’re gay. It’s time to step up the representation.

I am Tanner Bowman. I am more than my sexuality, but I want people to know I’m gay. Just not in a way that erases all my other identities.