"Does this outfit look OK? Uggggh, I hate my hair. Why am I so awkward? I can't post that selfie. Does this girl really think I'm cute? I'm never going to be popular!"

Ahh, the shallow musings of adolescence: the self-absorbed, socially-obsessed, trying-oh-so-hard-but-it's-never-good-enough mentality that plagues our teenage years. These are the ridiculous thoughts that have been racing through my brain lately—but I'm not a teenager anymore. I'm 32 years old.

I've come to terms with the fact that I'm going through a phase called "gay adolescence," or "delayed adolescence." I'm finally hitting the natural coming-of-age milestones that heteronormativity denied me as a queer teenager in Michigan.

While my straight peers in high school were talking openly about their crushes, discovering their sense of fashion, and naturally developing their social circles, I was obsessed with hiding who I was. To add insult to injury, my family put me in "pray-the-gay-away" therapy from ages 16 to 18, and I wasn't allowed to go away to college.

This is not to say that every young LGBTQ+ person has this experience, or that everyone else has a profound sense of self by age 20. On the contrary. It's just that the young lesbian I stuffed away years ago is still inside somewhere, begging to come out.

Don't get me wrong. Today, I've already navigated a lot of weird coming out stages, I have plenty of queer friends, and my family accepts me. I graduated from college, was married to an incredible woman (and amicably divorced), I've worked with LGBTQ+ youth for years, traveled from coast to coast doing drag shows, and I'm building a pretty damned cool life in Los Angeles.

But through all of this, my queer self-expression has never been fleshed out, and I don't know what that would look like for me. My gut tells me to shave my head, cover myself in rainbows, and shout from the rooftops that I'm a lesbian: a hallmark of gay adolescence.

So here I am, 32 years old, adulting and "teenaging" all at once. I'm finally living for myself, and this mentality hit me out of nowhere. I'm strangely obsessed with what I wear and do. I'm self-conscious in ways I haven't been in years, and giggly around girls. I'm talkative and eager, and I can feel myself being such a teenager, but heaven help me, I can't stop it.

I must admit though, that it's beautiful too. I'm finding my spirituality. I'm making great friends. I'm learning so much about myself and my sexuality. My creativity has found a new outlet in my clothing and make-up. I'm finally getting a chic, androgynous short haircut that I've wanted since I was 16, and I'm making it a point to stop and have fun.

Shoot, I recommend a bit of a delayed adolescence to anyone. Self-discovery is an ongoing process, self-care is important, and adulting is hard. Besides, maybe a delayed adolescence at 32 could prevent a midlife crisis at 40.