I have known that I wanted to spend my life in the company of women since I was about three years old. I never wanted to marry a man, change my name, or have a baby. But since I grew up in a very strict religious background, I was not encouraged to name or claim what I termed first, my "differentness," next, my "feminism," or later, my "bisexuality." No one in my family batted an eye when I wanted to play softball instead of enrolling in aerobics; when I wanted to attend an all-girls Catholic high school when other girls clamored to go to the one with the boys; or when I didn't seem interested in dating, preferring instead to read or play the songs from Tracy Chapman's first album on my guitar. I was just "different" and "depressed." Now looking back on it, I can see why!

Although my parents did draw the line when I wanted to go to an all-women's college, I was lucky to leave home to go to school and there I met the first out lesbians of my life. Though all of my best friends were gay, I remained closeted for four years. As I imagine as is the case for many of us, my friends realized and accepted the fact that I was gay before I did.

It wasn't until four years after that, while as the worst player softball on a team full of femme hairdressers, that I admitted to myself that I was gay. Over eggplant parmiagiana sandwiches after a game I told the team--who were really not surprised at all. (For those of you weighing whether or not to come out, you shouldn't be surprised if this turns out to be the case). They paid for my beer, which was one of the best I have ever drank. I then began to tell people--not all at once, but when the moment felt right. That summer, I felt like myself for the first time in my life. Shocking!

Since then, I have made the decision to come out in many facets of my life--each time in a slightly different way. Sometimes it takes some time, in other instances it is just something I volunteer within five minutes of meeting someone. It gets easier, and every time I do it I feel powerful, honest, and brave. One of the problems of our society is that we assume that everyone is straight unless they testify otherwise. A great quote from Audre Lorde serves as my coming out motto: "When I dare to be powerful and use my strength in the service of my vision, it does not matter whether or not I am afraid."

Overall, I think coming out is a process. It is different in every context, depending on who I am coming out to, the environment, and whether I have had a bad day at work or not. I think it is important to keep coming out as a process that once begun is really never finished, and that we are always gay no matter what we do. I commend the women who are sharing their stories with the website and look forward to reading them.