I've always had one part of my being stand out more than the rest. In middle school, it was my general angst and hatred for life. In high school, my constant anxiety and panic attacks meant I was the most incapable of handling assignments throughout my years in journalism. I was surprised when neither of these dominant characteristics of my personality emerged as more significant than the other once I started college. What emerged instead was something much more pleasant and well-received. I realized I was gay, and that became who I was.

Back home in flat and widely conservative Texas, there wasn't any real established community I could identify with. A Gay-Straight Alliance club was started during my senior year, but I never developed any real interest in it. It felt too forced-- like I was joining a small portion of the LGBT+ community when all I wanted was that sense of belonging all the time. I wasn't special enough to be the only queer person around, but meeting people who weren't straight felt weird. It was like we had this bond because we were a supposed minority-- who knows how many of us there were?

Things changed when I got to Virginia-- more specifically, Roanoke. A handful of people had teased me about Hollins being "The Gay School" because it was a single-sex institution, but I didn't realize how true their words would turn out to be until I'd lived there for a month or so. It turned out it was more common to be gay than straight. I was kind of blown away by how awesome this was. Suddenly it was a lot easier to be out than in.

I'd done away with my sexual identity some time ago, simply because I didn't want to have sex, but I couldn't help but scream, "golly, am I gay!" each time a remarkably beautiful girl walked by (which was often). I had a lot of love in my heart, and I wanted someone to give it to. That's where things got messy.

Dating girls was new to me, and for awhile I really didn't know how to handle it. I'd only ever dated a boy, only ever kissed a boy, only ever wanted to be with a boy. Things were weird here. Girls were interested, but they had a funny way of showing it. Some had their friends stage elaborate set-ups while others managed to elicit words from me I wasn't quite sure I meant. I said, "yes, I want to be with you," when I really meant, "thanks for paying attention, but I'm not interested." People had never shown this much interest in me before, and I had no clue what to do with it.

The best thing was to wait. Wait until I was ready, wait until I met someone worth my time. It only took a month, but I met this beautiful, kindhearted Libra, and after just a few weeks we were really falling into each other. There were no take-backs, no confusion or dipping out when the going got rough, just me and this girl I would be dating in just a few weeks. Best of all, our friends were just as (if not more) into us as we were each other. It felt nice to be supported for a change. It was good to know I wouldn't have to be afraid of any backlash from the community I'd started putting my roots down in, and it's because of the gay women around me that I've started to really be okay with who I am. I'm queer, I'm here, and I wouldn't have it any other way.