The road to self-acceptance is filled with many curves, highs, and lows, especially when it's paved with expectations and reactions. For many LGBTQ+ people, coming out as their true gender or sharing their sexuality is fraught with fear over how family members will react, whether they'll lose family and friends once they reveal their authentic selves, or if their workplace or community will view them differently.
Even as Pride flags fly from homes and our favorite snack foods turn rainbow for Pride month, we still have a distance to cover toward full equality. Did you know, according to Gallup, an estimated 5.6% of the U.S. population identifies as LGBTQ+, but not everyone feels safe and accepted in their identities? A recent Human Rights Campaign Foundation survey found that of 10,000 teens ages 13–17, 31% feared being "treated differently or judged" if they came out. Another 30% said their families were "not accepting" of LGBTQ+ people, and 19% were scared or unsure about how their families would react.
I came out to my family at the age of 25 while sitting at the picnic table in the backyard of my childhood home. Everyone there was very supportive. It took me a while to understand my authentic self, and the most significant (and most challenging) part of my coming-out journey was figuring out how to come out to myself.
Reflecting on my journey to be out and visible as LGBTQ+, I realized I had to confront several misconceptions and my internalized homophobia. I needed to be clear in visualizing my place in this world. As strange as it may sound to talk about homophobia as a Lesbian, many in the LGBTQ+ community absorb the negative messages we hear and end up not feeling comfortable enough in our skin to let those around us know who we really are.
For me, visibility is about representation. If people don't see diversity around them, they'll be hesitant to reveal themselves because of the historical stigma many have faced. It is hard to be what you can't see.
My turning point came when I decided to adopt my first child. My confidence and commitment to myself only grew after I adopted my second child, married my wife, and blended our families into one loving, caring, and respectful unit. I wanted my children to see me as authentic, brave, and fearless—an unapologetic role model who inspires and leads by example. I wanted them to see me as a person who would pave the way for inclusivity and equity, not only for LGBTQ+ people but for all human beings.