Exactly a year ago, on Oct. 11, 2014, also known as National Coming Out Day, I officially came out as a lesbian on social media to my friends and family. I came out to my parents as well. It was difficult and I was terrified of any angry responses, but I received a lot of support and acceptance. As someone with small-town roots, it was a shock. My journey out of the closet has not been smooth so far, but the love I got from these people amazed me.

I was born and raised in a small town of around 740 people where camouflage is worn on everything, large and noisy diesel trucks can be heard for miles, students miss school in favor of hunting season, everyone knows everyone, and the word "gay" is often used as an insult. For a liberal, feminist lesbian, it isn't exactly the romantic getaway from a Nicholas Sparks novel.

Since the first day of school all the way through graduation I had known and grown up with all my classmates. Our parents knew each other, our older siblings were friends, classmates, or had been on the same sports teams. When something happened that was sure to stir up gossip in our quiet town, the news traveled fast.

As a self-conscious 14-year-old girl who wasn't interested in boys like my other friends, I began to wonder what was wrong with me. Why didn't I have a crush on that boy like everyone else? Why was I uninterested in getting a boyfriend? Why did I feel like I had to have a boyfriend in order to fit in? And, more importantly, why did I like girls the way they liked boys?

It was around this time that many people my age began to use the word "gay" as a way of insulting people. I had never heard it used much. Looking back, it is not much of a surprise that I had not encountered it. Gay became such a common form of insult that I never bothered to look up the real definition of it. I just knew that "Oh, that's so gay" was said by nearly everyone of my classmates at the time. In retrospect, it's utterly shameful.

As I moved from junior high into high school, having boyfriends but never seeing them as anything but a friend, seeing my friends begin serious relationships, I began to worry about my lack of real interest in males and felt guilty, ashamed, and sad. Was there something wrong with me? Why did I like girls? Why didn't I have a crush on what's-his-name-football-star? Going into my sophomore year of high school, a light bulb flickered on, and I realized that there was only one reason I felt this way: I was a lesbian. Admitting it to myself was a challenge. After all, wasn't being gay a bad thing to be? Wasn't that what everyone cringed at and insulted others for? Most of all, I was terrified at the thought of other people knowing.

I kept it to myself but, eventually, I felt the need to tell my best friend, whom I trusted with every and any secret. I soon figured out that she had suspected it all along and joked that she had just been waiting for me say something. When I grew comfortable with myself, I decided to let my close friends know. By my senior year of high school, nearly all of my classmates knew. Making sure to brace myself for any negativity, I received the occasional disgusted look, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle, especially with friends who completely accepted me. Despite that, however, I still had not come out to my parents, siblings, or the rest of my family.

After some awkward silence and a lot of deep breaths, I eventually found the confidence to tell my older brother (who nearly jumped out of the seat while driving and yelled, "Yeah! I knew it!") and my older sister. Just like my friends, they assured me of their acceptance and support.

After coming out successfully in college my freshman year, I have realized that I am never alone and there will always be good to outweigh the bad. It is not an easy thing to do. Many cannot come out at all, they have to hide themselves; often their decision to come out could be fatal. Accepting myself and stepping out of the closet was terrifying at first, having lived for 19 years in a small town where people often use my sexuality as a slur and being ashamed of who I am.

It has been exactly a year since I officially came out of the closet. It has been a long journey and I have learned to take it one step at a time. Today, I am out and I am proud to be a lesbian.