Outspoken.

Last summer I worked two internships in Los Angeles and as a result was burned-out from the big city. I began looking for something more down-to-earth, and working with children in the wilderness sounded perfect. So in April I interviewed with the director of an all-boys camp in northern Michigan for a job as a counselor. The topic of dating came up twice in the interview, but I skirted the issue.

I was offered the job soon after, and the topic of dating came up again, but this time it wasn't small talk.

The conversation ended with the understanding that I could not come out to anyone at camp. I would be fired on the spot if I did. I was going back into the closet for my summer.

Once at camp, I enjoyed the beautiful weather and meaningful interactions with the kids. But this was at the cost of feeling comfortable in my own skin.

The thoughtfulness I had hoped to find in the people working with children was more of a paltry 9-to-5 charade. I was called an ass-kisser in a staff meeting for using the word "introspection." Looking back, I shouldn't have been too surprised by this. The all-male environment engendered a brute thuggishness that was a cheap way to command the attention of young boys. Unfortunately, I had bought into it. My acceptance of the offer to work at the camp was an extension of my own internalized homophobia. I was trying to transcend the emotional baggage that goes with being in a heterocentric culture but was managing only to add to the weight of the luggage. I had thrown myself into the crucible only to rediscover why I came out in the first place. I am all the better for that summer, knowing now that denying how I love is denying not just a part of myself, it's denying all of me.

--Comstock is 20 and lives in Virginia.