Jumping into something new can always feel a bit awkward, right? A few days back, I set out to write my first blog post for this site. I wanted it to serve as a general introduction to who I am, what I’m all about, and why I decided to start this new adventure. It felt strange to just drone on about myself, and I just couldn’t get a sense of who I was really writing that post for.

If you’re not aware, June is LGBTQIA+* Pride Month in the United States (and several other countries). As I started to get ‘Happy Pride’ texts from friends and family over this past weekend, it hit me! Rather than the standard, superficial info dump post, I’d like to honor Pride Month by writing about my story and ‘Pride’ from my perspective.

* You will see lots of variants of this acronym. This is the one I generally use, but here is a nice explanation of some different versions and their meanings

Before We Dive In

I want to clearly acknowledge how privileged I am to have had the experience I did as a gay kid in the Midwest in the late 1990s and early 2000s. I had a healthy network of friends and escaped any real bullying. I was never naïve enough to pretend things weren’t being said behind my back, but I knew I was comparatively very lucky. I saw people my age, even at my own school, struggling in ways I never could imagine. In short, things could have been much different for me.

A trigger warning probably isn’t necessary; however, I am going to touch on some of the mental health struggles that are common in LGTBQIA+ youth – including some of my own. I’ll touch on some difficult family dynamics and reactions, as well.

Allow Myself to Introduce…Myself

To do this effectively, I suppose I owe you just a bit more background information – you know, just to set the stage a little. I’ll keep it brief:

I grew up in a northern suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio. As an only child, I learned to entertain myself at a very early age. I was never a truly solitary person, but to this day, I highly value my ‘me’ time and can get quite grumpy if it’s disrespected! 😝I would rate my childhood as exceedingly normal. My parents kept me very busy as a kid. I played soccer, baseball – and two agonizing years of basketball – until I was 16. I was never very good at any of them, but I’m grateful for the experiences to this day. They taught me things like teamwork, leadership, conflict management, even basic social skills at the beginning.

As I got a bit older, music became a huge part of my life and the most prominent occupier of my time throughout high school. I played the clarinet, bass clarinet and tenor sax in everything from concert band, marching band, pep band, and so on. I mean ULTRA band nerd. Honor bands, All-State Band, Solo & Ensemble – you name it, I was there. The music program at my school was huge. Some of the friendships I made during those years continue to this day, and I don’t know what I would do without them. Music became the place I found the safest, and like sports, helped me grow tremendously during that period of my life.

When it came to school, I was fortunate to do well in most subjects. My primary struggle, which became especially prevalent in late elementary/early middle school was an overwhelming sense of ‘otherness’ that I could neither understand nor describe. In fact, it’s still almost impossible to put into words what queer kids that age feel – but every person reading this who has lived that experience knows exactly what I mean. We’re talking about pre-puberty here. Not attraction as an adult or adolescent would understand it, no ‘biological imperative’ – but our society at the time starts reminding our children at a very early age that “boys get big and strong and marry girls” and vice versa. Most folks in the LGBTQIA+ community will tell you that something told them they were queer long before they ever had the words or emotional intelligence to express it, let alone truly understand and accept it. My memories about feeling this way at the time aren’t particularly sad, but I remember feeling like I could see a mold that I was meant to fit in and knowing it wasn’t going to happen. 🤷‍♂️

Just for fun, here are some photos of our little family…

How Did I Know I Was Gay?

Shocker! It was puberty. We’re all adults here. We remember when we started looking at the people around us differently. The problem though: puberty-age kids are generally idiots – even worse, most of them haven’t been given the tools to understand and respond appropriately to what they’re feeling and what their bodies are doing. I didn’t grow up in a particularly conservative area, but I can’t remember the mention of any type of queer relationship in a health or sex-ed class. This was early 2000s Ohio, but I don’t think my experience was unique in this aspect. Even for those of us who were generally accepted and safe before and after coming out, it was still hard to escape the feeling that we just…didn’t exist in society at large. At this time in my life, most LGBTQIA+ characters on TV or in movies were caricatures or victims. Will & Grace premiered when I was in eighth grade, and even though I most definitely knew I was not quite straight by that point, I was way too scared to watch. What if I got caught? What if what I’m feeling can be fought against in some way, and this only pushes me to the wrong side of the fence? This concept, internalized homophobia, starts REALLY early. For some, it also never truly goes away.

So, let’s rephrase the question a bit: “When did you know there was something different about you, that you probably shouldn’t share with anyone, which ultimately ended up being that you were gay?” My answer to this would be probably 7. If the question centers on when I knew that I was a gay, cisgender male as I identify today, probably 12 or 13. I know that some people reading this might think that seems early! If so, my assumption is that you are straight. 😉 I say that with all the love in the world, but what I mean is that if you’ve never had to examine your attractions and whether being honest and open about them could get you ostracized, or even worse, harmed, it might be easier to misremember how early they truly started. I’ve met many people whose Coming Out stories involve them knowing and coming to terms even earlier. I also think the generation(s) younger than me have started a positive and encouraging trend of feeling more comfortable and empowered to tackle these feelings earlier, which warms my heart.

My Coming Out Story

I was a brash, snarky Freshman in high school. Outwardly, everything was great. I had continued to do well with my grades, was still very involved in extra-curriculars, and I had a wonderful group of friends I could trust. As is the case at this age, relationships (i.e. ’going out’ with somebody) became an important part of social life. I had known for a couple years that I was certainly not interested in dating girls like my male friends were, but that didn’t stop me from making several embarrassing attempts. It became a source of shame, as well, because I knew I was lying to myself and to them. After trying and failing over and over again to just ‘find the one’ that would make the gay go away, I eventually went through a period where I became increasingly withdrawn and emotional. I remember an unbearable sense of being lost and broken. I never wanted to harm myself, but I fantasized about simply not existing.

Around this same time, I happened to make a new friend who I would begin spending quite a bit of free time with. She never asked me about being gay, but I’m certain she knew.  One afternoon, another of her friends – we’ll call him James – happened to accompany us back to her house to hang out a bit after school. Our social circles didn’t overlap in the slightest prior to this day, but everyone knew James. James was gay and out – at 14! Even if I wasn’t ready to fully embrace my own gayness, I had to give him props for the cajones on that. James did not have an easy time at school. He was harassed and bullied relentlessly. This was equally heartbreaking and terrifying. Was this exactly what I would be signing myself up for?

It would be fun if I said James and I fell in love and took on our high school together just like in a Lifetime movie, wouldn’t it? Of course, that’s not what happened. One thing lead to another, we occasionally exchanged some very sloppy kisses like only unexperienced high schoolers can, and then decided we didn’t like each other at all. Obviously, I had a problem now though, didn’t I? I couldn’t just keep telling myself it was going to go away. It wasn’t going to go away.

In the weeks that followed, I slowly told several of my closest friends about what had happened and that I was gay. When I say literally none of them were surprised, it’s no exaggeration. In fact, many of them responded with something akin to: “Well, duh – we’ve just been waiting for you to say something.” Of course, this reaction is an absolute blessing, but the anti-climactic impact cannot be understated! 😂 After reaching a safe quorum of friends who knew, I experienced the ability to do something I had never ever done before – simply exist as my authentic self openly. Sure, it was limited to close friends. I wasn’t ready to be “OUT” out, but I didn’t have to lie to the friends who mattered most. I spent the next 6-8 months experiencing things like dating and break ups, while having a safety net of friends to help me navigate these things they had been dealing with for much longer.

Once the next Summer rolled around, I realized I once again had a big problem on the horizon. It so happened that the majority of the friends I had entrusted with my biggest secret were members of marching band, as well. Makes sense, right. Well, another person very close to me also happened to hold a position with the marching band that meant she would be around constantly: My mother. She was a Uniform Mom. For those unfamiliar, Uniform Mom’s help collect, wash and maintain uniforms for marching bands before/after performances, etc. Our 225 member band wore predominantly white, which kept the UMs busy and ever-present. There was no longer any part of me questioning whether I was actually gay; that was well and proven. I also knew that none of my friends would ever have intentionally outed me – but just the thought of asking them to deliberately hide it felt gross. I faced an impossible choice: Risk mom finding out by accident or asking my friends to continue a lie for me. If I was going to come out on my own terms, I knew it was time to do it.

Both of my parents showered me with nothing but unconditional love my entire life, another blessing that I do not take for granted. At the time though, I made the decision that it would be easier to come out to my mom first and then my dad shortly thereafter. In late Fall of 10^th grade, my dad was away for work, and I initiated one of the most important conversations I would ever have with my mother:

[paraphrased for brevity]

Me: “Mom. I need to tell you something…I’m gay.”

Mom: “I know. I’ve known since you were a little kid. I love you no matter what!”

Again, someone who knew before I did and never told me! How rude! The very next thing out of her mouth, though, was a doozy:

“But…we can’t tell your dad. He will leave us.”

This was some of the most violent mental whiplash I have ever experienced. My mother was validating and recognizing my existence, while simultaneously making the alarming implication that my doting father – her loving husband – would reject us BOTH outright, were he provided with this same information. I was devastated for weeks. It felt like coming out to my mother had the opposite of the intended effect! Sure, I didn’t have to lie outright to her anymore, but if I said or did the wrong thing, would I lose my father AND be the reason she lost her marriage? Unfortunately, this general dynamic would continue for the rest of high school. I could never shake the feeling that my dad knew and wanted me to tell him, but I was paralyzed by the fear that my mom might be right after all.

After graduation, I couldn’t wait to make my move to Columbus! I was going to The Ohio State University to study Music Education, the city had a reputation for being gay, gay, GAY and I just couldn’t wait to stop living a double-life. I had been out, ostensibly, for almost two years, but at home I still had some eggshells left to walk on. That all changed as soon as I got to Bradley Hall on the OSU campus. I had no reason not to be loudly and proudly gay. Maybe I was making up for lost time, or maybe it was more about throwing the feelers out as early as possible. Any sort of negative reaction could just mean to avoid that person before getting attached. This approach would never have worked in high school, so it was incredibly thrilling.

I can distinctly remember the day in September 2004 when Facebook (at the time thefacebook) opened up to Ohio State students. One of the initial profile questions was, and still is, “Interested In?” It felt absolutely phenomenal to select ‘Men’ with zero hesitation. Why not?! You had to have a college email address to use the site, so NDB, right? Fast forward a year or so when Facebook became open to the public. I hadn’t given a single thought to my basic profile information in ages. When I started getting friend requests from friends and family, no alarms were raised whatsoever.

Then, it happened. I received a call from Dad. He was obviously shaken. I could sense hurt and shame – and even his own disbelief – in his voice from the moment he started speaking:

“I guess I understand now why you never wanted to tell me anything. Your Mom told me what she told you, so I can’t be mad at you. I love you, Kyle.”

Without saying the words, I knew definitively that Dad would never have left us. I was relieved, obviously, but it made me regret the time lost and worry spent. My Mom could never really explain her reasoning for what she said as part of her reaction to me coming out. She and I discussed it multiple times – along with my Dad. Perhaps her own upbringing made it too difficult to process. Maybe she needed a scapegoat to deal with her own feelings and opinions without having to say them aloud.  Regardless, once the initial dust settled, I was able to fully realize my ‘outness’ and never looked back. Mom and Dad continued to be huge supporters of me in everything I did. When I met my husband in 2009, I think Mom knew before I did that he was the one for me – even if it did take her awhile to completely warm up to him. Mom passed away in 2022, very unexpectedly. Of course, there are always things we wish we could change along the way, but I will forever remain grateful that we ended up stronger than ever with her full support for me.

That was a lot. So, thanks for sticking with me. Coming Out stories are messy sometimes, but sharing them is important and cathartic. They don’t always turn out this well, and they aren’t all happy. Some can be traumatic or even violent. LGBTQIA+ youth face homelessness and disconnection from family as real risks of coming out. Every queer person’s coming out is their own and should be allowed to happen at whatever pace they decide.

So, What About Pride?

Prior to moving to Columbus, I had never been anywhere near a Pride parade or festival. Remember the internalized homophobia from earlier? I had it bad. I had come out as gay. There was no one at school who didn’t know, but I went to great, and often silly, lengths to not be seen as that kind of gay.  Like so much of this process, it’s hard to put into words – but think of it as a dichotomy where, on the one hand, coming out frees you from the need for never-ending lies to be a part of daily life. Conversely, there is a pervasive fear that once you’re out, people will naturally begin to compare you to what they already know, which is often derived from oversimplifications, generalizations and stereotypes. In hindsight, some of this angst also just comes naturally with the territory of being a teenager, but I genuinely feared being typecast.

The Summer following my freshman year at OSU, I found a campus job that allowed me to stay in Columbus. Through a bunch of friend-of-a-friend connections and circumstances that only make sense when you’re in college, I ended up with an invite to Columbus Pride. After a year in college, my attitudes and perceptions had changed a lot: I had been to a drag show, met so many new and interesting LGBTQIA+ people, and so on. Despite all this, I remember being weirdly anxious about what I was about to experience. In my mind, Pride parades were just gorgeous people in skimpy clothing dancing on floats. My limited exposure to these events was based on sensationalism and selective outrage. And, of course, there were plenty of gorgeous people dancing on parade floats – but what I also saw, were thousands and thousands of people from all walks of life, smiling and laughing and just…being. Gays and lesbians of all shapes and sizes. Non-binary and trans folks. Allies with their families, even little kids! I had never been around so many LGBTQIA+ people and our allies at once, but I realized immediately that this was a watershed moment for me. Many of the friendships and traditions that began with this particular Pride continue to this day.

If you’ve never been to a Pride event, I implore you to go. No matter your orientation, you will find a conglomeration of beautiful, caring people passionately celebrating and embracing their authentic selves. Also, if you’ve ever wondered why Pride is a thing, especially these days – remember, Pride is, and always has been a protest:

The very first Pride events were organized in response to a police raid on the Stonewall Inn in New York City in June 1969. Raids on LGBTQIA+ establishments were common at the time, usually for totally bullsh*t reasons just so cops could harass queer folks. Eventually, our people begin pushing back. These events lead to the beginning of the modern LGBTQIA+ right movement, which spread across the world! Many countries also recognize June as Pride month for this reason.

More recently, the practice of “Rainbow Washing” has been a major discussion point in the community, as well. This is when companies vomit rainbows from June 1-30 every year, but never take any meaningful actions that would actually uplift our community. As soon as July rolls around, the rainbow is replaced by the Stars & Stripes and LGBTQIA+ folks are old hat until next year. Performative Allyship is a problem and usually a result of pure corporate greed. Representation, though, is important. Generally, when the intent comes from a good place, I think the increase in the willingness of companies, brands and other entities to shine a light on Pride month should be celebrated!

Even as the world has, in general, gotten much more accepting of queerness in general, Pride will always serve as a reminder that the LGBTQIA+ community is loud, large and strong – but nothing is to be taken for granted. Our gains have been hard fought by the generations before us. Whether it’s the rioters at Stonewall who said enough is enough, pioneers like Harvey Milk – who was the first openly gay politician in the USA (and was assassinated for it) – or the thousands of us who were lost in the AIDS epidemic of the 80s while our government did nothing.

So, remember: Pride is many things – a parade, a gathering of friends, a party, sometimes a marketing gimmick, etc. – but Pride is always a protest.

What about Pride?

Until now, I’ve been focused on Pride as an annual event, or more correctly, many events of all sizes that take place across the world and all stem from the same series of protests.

Pride is also an abstract concept and an everyday undertaking. It might seem like hyperbole, but LGBTQIA+ folks are never truly done coming out. There will always be an incorrect assumption about wife vs. husband or the first time someone uses the incorrect pronouns. This rarely happens with malicious intent in a professional setting (hopefully). Still, no matter how long we’ve been out or how comfortable we are, this a reminder that society’s default is cisgender + straight. These experiences are so frequent that they often aren’t even necessarily unpleasant – it’s just a fact of life, it seems.

I’ve worked at a very large company with a strong commitment to inclusiveness for almost 15 years. The tech and data viz industries tend to lean more progressive, as well. I have always felt very safe, welcome and represented as an LGBTQIA+ employee. This isn’t the case for a lot of people. The consequences of being ‘out and proud’ at work could range from awkward/uncomfortable to career-ending! This is why DE&I programs are so important in today’s workplaces. They start conversations that might not happen otherwise, and without these, preconceived notions and existing biases are allowed to go unchecked. The optimist in me believes that most people are inherently good. If they are given the tools to identify these ideas and behaviors in themselves, outlooks and attitudes can be changed for the better.

Pride in the workplace can take on different forms. It’s not always as boisterous as a parade or a rainbow flag pinned to your cubicle – but heck, it can be that too! As with many things in life, actions speak louder than words, so emphasizing visibility and representation are also key. Something as simple as attending your company’s internal Pride events, or joining an industry-wide group like the Data Pride TUG and sharing it with others – which you should absolutely do – is a great way to show your Pride and help others find theirs.

 For me, a huge component is simply living very unapologetically and transparently. It’s much more subtle than you might think, though. I talk about my husband – by name and title – just as freely as any of my straight colleagues would mention their opposite-sex partners. I talk about our day-to-day life, our pets and our struggles without hesitation. Shining a light on just how *normal* our lives are, is a great tool we have to combat things like homophobia, transphobia and bigotry. People often create false narratives and understandings about things they don’t have much exposure to. I show my Pride every day at work – not just in June – by being my authentically, mostly unremarkable self! It’s taken the better part of four decades of life for me, but learning to embrace, love and share who we are and how it imprints on all aspects of life is a goal every queer person strives toward. For many, it’s a journey that seems like it might never end. However small or symbolic, living out loud is a way to be a beacon for others who may not be aware of other safe spaces/people around them they can turn to.

Speaking directly now to those who may not be ready to come out or haven’t figured out exactly why they feel different. I see you too. Take your time. If you’re having trouble at home with parents or other family members, remember you don’t have to survive in a vacuum. Most states and larger cities have resources available to assist LGBTQIA+ youth and adults, no matter your situation. Whether you’re still questioning and haven’t told anyone, you’re out to some friends/family or you’re Elton John-level out, you’re part of a large, diverse and thriving community. How you celebrate your Pride is entirely up to you. We love you.

There’s one last group of people I’d like to address – the only others who will have made it this far…That’s right: The Allies!

First and foremost, you are amazing. From a biological and evolutionary perspective, it doesn’t make sense for humans to stand up for groups that are marginalized by even their own. History and wayward religion also don’t always make the best arguments for being on the side of LGBTQIA+ folks. Yet, you do it anyway. You may be the only safe space a young or struggling family member or friend has. You might also be marching toe-to-toe in the parades and fighting against the insane amount of anti-LGBTQIA+, especially anti-trans, rhetoric and legislation in this country recently. So many queer people’s first experience with accepting or even acknowledging their identify was made possible only because of an ally in their life. Now, more than ever, we need you. And we need you to be louder than ever with us!

Ok look, this took on a more somber tone than I necessarily sought after for an introductory post on a brand new blog about technology and data visualization. The thought struck me as I was writing that this may well be the first time I’ve ever shared my entire Coming Out story in writing. Thank you for allowing me to share my story, warts and all, with you. I’ll talk about nerd stuff next – promise!

Happy Pride, Everyone!