Twenty-five years ago, I couldn’t imagine ever being out as a lesbian. Back then, no one had explained to me that I had an intersex variation, and much of my life was about hiding.
In 1994, I had a faux boyfriend, who I’m still friends with now. He knew that I wasn’t attracted to men, and that I liked women. He saw the first issue of DIVA magazine in the local newsagents, and bought it for me. I read all about confident queer women. I wondered if I could ever be out, proud and empowered, like them?