We laughed together, we cried together, and we healed together.
His story was often more heartbreaking than others (like the freshman woman who told us that she accidentally came out to a group of new friends when they wouldn't stop asking about her type and she finally shouted 'my type is vagina!') But listening to both funny and sad stories is what made the event powerful. During my time in college, one man told the same tale every year, about how he had to come out to his parents twice: First as a lesbian and then again as a bisexual trans man.
