In March of 1972, when I was 29, after my first sexual experience with a man, at a time when by law that was still a crime and by the medical profession still considered a mental disease, I publicly "came out" as a Gay man and lost friends, extended family members, and eventually my job (teaching at a Catholic women's college!) and in some circles my reputation. And caused a lot of confusion for many folks, including myself.
Because I was still attracted to women too, and in a relationship with my then wife, (see my last book SAY IT AGAIN). I chose to come out as "Gay" rather than "Bi" to express solidarity with Gay comrades by facing the consequences of being openly identified that way. Also, I didn't like the term "bi-sexual" which to me sounded like there were only two kinds of sexual relations and I knew that wasn't true.
I took part in some of the earliest Pride marches and demonstrations, sometimes in a dress or what we called gender-bending garb (lumberjack shirt with clip-on rhinestone earrings e.g.) and took flack not only from homophobes but some people within the Gay Liberation Movement who considered me not authentically gay. Then I got custody of one of my children, a five-year old, and the possibility of losing him because I was identifying as Gay, led me to be more discreet in showing my femme side and eventually let people assume what they would.
But I never stopped being proud of my Gay Liberation activism history or my love of, and place in, the ongoing expansion of who is part of the LGBTQ+ community.