When I was 25, I was lonely, in the closet, fat, and in debt.

I set a goal for myself: By age 30, I was to lose things. I was to lose pounds, lose debt, and lose the closet that I had been hiding in for my life up to that point.

Losing debt was the easiest to do. I buckled down my finances completely. No going out to eat more than once a week. Making my lunches every day and in the most economical manner. Switch to rail drinks. :)

But the most important thing I did towards that goal was to purchase the software program Quicken. It made me realize where my money was going, and I didn't like that one bit. It reversed my course of spiraling into massive credit card debt and put me on the path of financial stability. I wasn't making that much money at the time, but I made sure that every penny was accounted for.

Losing weight was a bit harder. I, like many in my family, use food as a comfort tool. When things go bad, well, there's always a nice hearty dinner to make you feel better. Mom would always put food in front of us in times of trouble. It felt good. When I moved to DC, I discovered so many different kinds of food, and I had to try it all. And try it all I did! I managed to gain 60 pounds in just a few years. I went from a size 30 to size 36+ waist pants and there seemed to be no end in sight.

And then one day in 1998, I was at a friend's wedding, and after the wedding she sent me a picture of myself--And I couldn't believe it. I was dumbfounded. This is me?, I thought, over and over again. That was all I needed.

I then put myself on a diet. It was a really simple one. Really, it was: I ate less and exercised more. It was all about calories. And I made sure that I let myself splurge at least once a week. And it was at this point where I discovered the magic of exercise... At first, it was tedious. I hated it. But then, I began to invent little "games" to get me to go to the gym. I had a mini-healthy crush one of the guys that went there on a regular basis. That helped me go more often. :) But after that, I began to go just because I wanted to go. I now feel physically ill if I do not get a workout in at least once every few days.

1998. One year to go before my 30th birthday. I had accomplished 2 of my 3 goals. But the last goal I had put off until the very last gong. That's kind of the way that I am. Even with things like school and stuff like that. With homework assignments, I'd do all of the easy stuff right away and wait till the last minute to do the hard stuff. On exams, they would literally have to pull those "blue books" out of my hand as I would finally come up with my "genius" answer 1 minute before the end time.

I had "come out" to myself several years earlier, but I hadn't yet verbalized it to anyone else. How would I do it? Who would I tell first? These and many other questions raced through my mind as I set out to accomplish this goal. And surprisingly, even though there was less to actually *do*, this was the hardest goal of all.

Luckily, I have good friends.

My friend Cynthia and I had made plans to go to Paris for a long weekend.... She lived in Colorado, and I lived in DC. She made arrangements to connect in Dulles so that we could be on the same plane from DC to Paris. It was a lovely flight (and the first time I had travelled on a 777).

And then I arrived in Europe, for the first time. I felt free.

Free of the shackles that had bound me in the States. Free to do whatever I wanted, without anyone judging me. Free to be who I was.

We dropped off our bags at the hotel, and immediately went into a day of sightseeing. It was my first time in Europe, so I was mesmerized by all of it. The buildings, steeped in history, the food... and oh, the food! Day melted into night, and that meant it was time for partying. We were in Paris! We were both jet lagged, but we didn't care. We took a cab to the Champs Elysées and drank Champagne--real Champagne--until we were several hundred Francs poorer but we felt silly and drunk so that really didn't matter to us. And then it was back to the hotel room.

At this point, the evening was perfect. I was with a woman that I loved very much. I was in Paris. Cynthia and I started to fool around a bit, making out... I thought to myself, If I was straight, this would be the woman that I would want to spend the rest of my life with. It was at that exact moment that I knew what I had to do. The timing wasn't perfect, but then again, neither is life.

I looked up at Cynthia and said, "I can't."

"Why not? What's wrong? Is it because you're gay?"

I had given the wrong answer to this question before. But my time was up. It was time to be myself. If I didn't fess up now, I might as well live my 30's, 40's, and beyond, in the closet.

"Yes. I'm gay."

And with that, I started sobbing uncontrollably. As if years of hiding and lying had finally been lifted. I cried for hours, until I could cry no more. Cynthia was the best friend that she could be... holding me, hugging me, and telling me that she would always be my friend, no matter what.

The rest of the trip went well. Cynthia even helped me check out some of the Parisian guys. We tried to find a gay bar to go to, but we weren't successful. But that didn't matter. I was out, and free. During the next few months, I told all of my friends and I didn't have a single problem with any of them. Most of them were waiting for me to tell them.

And my goals had been accomplished.

Now I have to set them for age 40.