Sisters matter: Carolyn Kramer worried that her family would reject her when they learned she was gay. Instead, her filmmaker sister made Gray Matters, a sweet comedy based on their loving bond.

When I was 14 years old, back in 1973, I snuck into my junior high school's library after hours and looked up the word homosexuality in the dictionary. It read something like "a deviant psychological disorder." I had already been grappling with feeling different since I was 6 or 7 years old, but I had no idea, no comprehension whatsoever, how those feelings might be defined. I just knew instinctively that they were wrong and that I should never share with anyone my thoughts of being in love with my best girlfriend. I truly believed at the time that if this deep dark secret were ever revealed to my family, which included my parents and my two younger sisters, I would have to kill myself rather than live with the shame and humiliation of being "deviant."

That following year, during the summer of 1974, my family vacationed in Wellfleet, Mass., on Cape Cod. On a day trip to Provincetown I remember distinctively feeling nauseous and uneasy, like I was about to crawl out of my skin, because for the first time in my life I saw gay people--specifically couples--walking down the streets. Muscular men wearing leather straps on their chests were holding hands with other men, and masculine-looking women with short cropped hair wearing motorcycle jackets holding hands with other women. All I wanted to do was disappear, because I was certain that all gay and lesbian people were the same as the people I'd just witnessed, and I knew I wasn't one of them.

My official coming-out was eight years later at a restaurant near the town where I had grown up. After I'd been through what felt like a lifetime of being suicidal and self-loathing--despite the fact that I always had boyfriends--my mother finally worked up the courage to ask me if the reason for my depression was because of "homosexuality." I had never even uttered the word, let alone tried to convey the feelings that were attached to the possibility I could have been gay. My morn then said, "No matter whom you choose to love in your life, whether it be a man or a woman, your father and I love you, and we want to help you get through this difficult time."

The next challenge was to come out--officially--to my younger sister Susan, who knew I was gay before I did. When she was 10 years old and I was 16, she asked me if the reason I was so sad all the time was because I was gay.

I lied, of course, and said, "No way. I'm not gay. Don't be ridiculous." In fact, not only was I gay but I was terrified that if I ever came out, I would be disowned by the people I loved most in the world: my family.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

I'm 47 years old now--living, ironically, just outside Provincetown. One of the most validating experiences of my life happened this past year when I was part of the making of an independent film called Gray Matters. The poignant story of a woman named Gray (played by Heather Graham) who strives to be true to herself is loosely based on my history with my sister Sue. Sue is also the screenwriter, director, producer, and, most important, my best friend. She wrote the screenplay six years ago, inspired by the idea that very few films depict the intricate emotions attached to coming out of the closet later in life. The film made me laugh and cry, and it made me proud to be part of a story whose message is: Be true to yourself, love yourself, accept yourself for who you are, and never forget--your life matters.