When I was a little girl with big glasses and broken teeth, the library was my comfort zone, a place where I could sink into soft chairs and read magazines for hours, or stack books up to my forehead and feel so, so smart (I didn’t know what “intellectual” meant at 7). It was also where I could hide. I still remember the click of the security bar as I entered, almost like laughter.

And when I was a secretly gay girl ensconced in my Christian college, suffering, suffering – the library was where I went to find my tribe. My tribe in words. I’d head down to the local branch in my college town, that liberal one on the edge of the river, and furtively glance around to make sure no one from school was there. One report to the Dean on my particular subject matter and I’d be hauled in for questioning. Remember, this was 1990 — the edge of the Internet age. I was at the mercy of librarian’s choice and a fragile sense of anonymity off-campus.

The 802 section. That’s where my tribe was. Or maybe it was 808. The number of transformation.

I didn’t even know what to look for in the card catalog. Gay? Lesbian? Those words made me nauseous. But still, I searched. I searched for stories just like mine. I was an English major with stacks of books to be read in my dorm room, but all I wanted were stories about falling in love with another woman. I wanted to see a reflection of the love that was overtaking my life.

Talk about a desert.

The few that I found — The Well of Loneliness, of course and other dreary tomes where you’d eventually either a) kill yourself or b) be miserable if you had any feelings for a woman — were little comfort to my starved soul. Drugs. Alcohol. Open relationships. Hippies. Where were the stories of the good Christian girl falling in love with another good Christian girl, both rebels at heart?

Not to be found. Not to be written for years. Yet to be written still.

Thank God for progress, the Internet, the younger generation. Thank God for expansion and the far reach of compassion. Thank God that most souls are actively seeking to grow beyond their own limitations and fears.

And thank heavens for this book.

This is the book I would’ve read, hiding in the stacks of those lonely days. This is the book my younger self would have cried over and said, “yes”. This is the book that may have saved me from going to reparative therapy and a deliverance session to cast out the demon of homosexuality. This is the book that would have said, “You are wonderful just as you are. Just as God made you. Live, and be happy. Love her.”

And this is the essay that I would have needed most.

I’m so proud to be a part of this wonderful anthology. My essay, “Christian LGBT Kids: You’re Part of the Plan” is one of the 100 amazing testaments of courage and hope for anyone struggling with acceptance of their precious self.

This is the book I’d like to see in every library and school.

It still isn’t easy being gay in this world. It takes major chutzpah to live life exactly the way you desire. But there is one thing I know: it does get better.

Pre-order your copy through Powell’s, Amazon or any major bookstore (it publishes on 3/22). All profits from It Gets Better will be donated to LGBT organizations and every author wrote pro bono. Be sure to check out the It Gets Better website for more LGBT resources, too.