Derek and I were mismatched from the get go. He was a homebody; I was a barfly. He was a gym rat; I hadn’t lifted weights since sophomore year in high school. He was all business, straightforward and by the book; I was a young writer, 22, esoteric and swimming in metaphors and analogies.

When it ended, I hated him.

In retrospect, he’d given me courage I’d never myself been able to muster.

In the cloudy bliss of the first month dating him, I couldn’t hold back – I wanted someone, anyone, to know all about him. But, the problem was I hadn’t told anyone I was gay.

One night, with a little liquid courage in me, I said it. Sitting close to a good girl friend of mine in a booth at Typhoon Saloon in Pacific Beach, I took a timid route:

“So I’ve been dating someone,” I said, or slurred, between shots.

“Who?”

“His name is Derek.”

She smiled at me, a slow, knowing smile, and she took my hand. She asked about him, and then she asked if I was happy.

“Yes. He makes me happy,” I said.

“That’s all that matters,” she said.

Really? I thought, could it be this simple? The answer, in short, was no. It wasn’t always that simple. I took a small step that day, and I didn’t know where it would lead me. At times it was difficult and painful, but each time I took a step, each time I said, “I am gay,” I lugged a little less weight.

Slowly, during the last three years, I’ve confided in friends and family; I’ve started to live my truth, and take pride in who I am. I began to operate on my own timeframe – I didn’t wait to be in a relationship to tell friends that I am gay. I didn’t need a reason, certainly not a boy, to tell them. I am proud of my education, my accomplishments, my career goals, my potential – essentially, who I am – and that is reason enough.

There was no rhyme or reason to the process of my coming out, but there are milestones I’ll always remember. Certainly, Typhoon Saloon is one.

Today, we mark National Coming Out Day, a celebration of the second march on Washington D.C., in which GLBT people rallied for equal rights. We celebrate the progress we’ve made, and look toward our future.

And today, someone somewhere will take that first step.

This week, reporter Randy Hope talked with a young lesbian, a student at Mission Bay High School, who is active with a campus Gay-Straight Alliance club (see story, page 14). The courageous young woman took her first step her freshman year in high school, coming out to family and friends.

She is working to bridge the gap between GLBT students and their straight counterparts.

Across the nation, there are phenomenal young people, young leaders, just like her, working to create a safe and open environment for GLBT youth.

And, in contrast, there are GLBT youth who face hateful attacks, taunting and abuse, because of their sexual orientation, or perceived sexual orientation.

For every young activist, there’s a gay or lesbian teen in need of a friend; and for every 20-something, out and proud member of the GLBT community, there is a closeted 30-, 40-, or 50-something counterpart.

I’m inspired by coming out stories, whether they’re told by 14-year-old students, or 46-year-old adults – and the stories need to be told to create a safe environment for all questioning people.

If you are struggling or questioning, make today your milestone. Confide in a friend or family member. Heck, confide in a complete stranger – The Center offers a coming out support group that will help you take your first step. If you’re a straight friend of the community, start dialogue among your friends and help us move forward.

As a community, we’re standing on the cusp of great progress in our fight for equal rights, and we’d like you, a member of our community or one of our straight allies, to stand with us.

Our GLBT youth have showed that it is never too soon to come out and play – and it is certainly never too late.

For more information on The Center’s coming out groups for men and women, call 619-692-2077 or visit www.thecentersd.org.