coming out

When you have a best friend, you expect to be able to tell them anything and for them to love you unconditionally, without judgment. At least, that’s what I felt about my best friend in sixth grade. She was like an older sister to me; of course she would stick with me.

When you have a best friend, you expect to be able to tell them anything and for them to love you unconditionally, without judgment. At least, that’s what I felt about my best friend in sixth grade. She was like an older sister to me; of course she would stick with me.

This week, Matt kicks off our Conversation series on coming out with his own story.

This week, Matt kicks off our Conversation series on coming out with his own story.

I made the decision to come out of the mental illness closet and face the world without fear or shame. My son will grow up in a house that doesn’t stigmatize mental illness, but instead, strives to understand it.

I don’t identify with the heterosexual norms that have been shoved down my throat and the pathologizing rhetoric that, for most of my life, shrieked "you’re broken," and then I was publicly ostracized by a person who identifies as part of "the community" — the same community I feel connected to.

I am Sharp Kadijah, a trans man. I come from the Eastern Region of Uganda, from a town called Mbale. It was on November 22, 2013 when I came out to my family, initially as a lesbian. It was like entering hell.