Have you ever tried coming out to a friend while you're hundreds of feet in the air and riding a roller coaster? Cartoonist Hamish Steele did and ...

When Vivian was first created, I think I was afraid of how my parents would react to the news that their son-in-law is a drag queen. For the seven years before Vivian, my relationship with my parents had been amazing, and I was afraid to lose that. Then the unthinkable happened.

When my dad left to pick up some dinner, my mom, whom I've been out to for almost two years, said, "Your father saw your Facebook status when I left my Facebook up. The cat's out of the bag." You see, I hadn't told him.

You don't hate by accident. You have to be taught to hate -- in little ways that are reinforced every day, ways you might not even recognize. In my case, hating yourself takes a lifetime.

A year ago I thought that disclosing my sexuality would aid in the healing from my eating disorder and my compulsive exercising. However, looking back, I realize that I was looking at my sexuality all wrong.

At first I'd thought my mom died on my birthday to bring my father and me together. Since then I've realized that her gift was an opportunity to finally find the fortitude and the wisdom to do what she never could. So I left him behind. And that's where he remains: behind me.

This week, blogger Allison Hope shared a great piece asking, "When Did You Know You Weren't Straight?" Her blog got some great reactions and the conv...

If you're heading home for Thanksgiving dinner with the family and thinking this might be the right time to come out to your parents, here are 10 tips to consider as you plan what to say.

At the ripe old age of 17, being gay was fully how I defined my sexuality: I was a man who was only attracted to other men. In retrospect, it bothers me that at 17 I chose (or felt pressure) to set a boundary this concrete in my brain.

Sitting in my car, in the dark of night, during a 15-minute break from work, I was at one of the lowest places in my life. Coming out had brought up so much more than being attracted to men, and now I couldn't stand the thought of feeling this horrible way another day.

Though I can remember almost everything about that day, from my mother's facial expression to her subtle physical responses, only recently have I tried to understand her reactions and consider her feelings throughout my coming-out process.

It all started with an awkward conversation with my dad when I was 16. On what I thought was a day like any other, we were passing our neighborhood Walmart when my father began the line of questioning I'd been dreading since before I was positive I knew the answers.

One reason I got so personal last month was because of a powerful statistic that will matter come Nov. 6: Straight people who know gay people are significantly more likely to support LGBT rights, by 20 points in one ABC News/Washington Post poll.

It makes me sad and frustrated that anyone needs to "come out" at all. However, I realize now that being "out" to family, friends, colleagues, professors, the Internet, etc. helps them get to know me and helps me be more comfortable with the way I am.

Although I have accepted myself, I am still terrified of how others will accept me.

When I came out as a teenager, my mother made it clear that she didn't want to hear about that part of my life. So I grew accustomed to changing pronouns and omitting big chunks of my history when I related it. Romances. Relationships. Heartbreaks. Friendships. Dreams.

When people think about LGBT stories and the holidays, some imagine scenes of argument and strife or -- sometimes worse -- tension and polite-acting relatives. Well, this story isn't like that at all. This is the Christmas story of Ryan and Eddie.