I've written about how my politics, my work as a journalist, and my life as a lesbian led me to the quest for goodness, but I've never explored the deeper reason I'm doing this. My journey didn't begin a year ago. It started one day more than 20 years ago when I was sitting in a psychotherapist's office in Kansas City, Mo. It had been a harrowing session, one of a series of appointments where I recounted the physical and emotional abuse my father inflicted on me.

The session is nearly over. I feel feverish, head hurting from crying so hard. I pull myself into a sitting position on the therapist's couch, look at her after an hour of avoiding her eyes, and ask: "Was my father evil?"

The problem is that conservatives are missing the point. Their protest is based on a false premise, at least it's false if I'm the liberal under discussion. My alarm about the words, images and narratives of Sarah Palin, Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh and Tea Party leaders is not a ploy to win elections or to triumph in policy debates. My concern comes from my own raw fear.

It's this: Who can resist a holiday about hope?

Don't take this as an attack on other holidays. I was born in 1952 in Detroit, Mich., and raised in a suburban home in the Christian tradition in an overwhelmingly Christian culture. I've dabbled in Buddhism, and warmed myself on a few Solstice fires, but I don't know enough about the holidays of those or any other religion to write knowledgeably about them. Even more importantly, I didn't sing Buddhist chants, or toddle through Solstice celebrations as a preschooler.

Last week I was present at events that go to the heart of my quest for goodness. These were momentous, life changing events. (I kid you not.) If we lived in a perfect world, I would have written about those events already. But I can't. I don't mean that I can't because I'm unable, I mean I can't because to do so would be to put another person at risk.

When a culture punishes millions of its own people for doing nothing more awful than daring to love, that culture is suffering from an illness far greater than cancer. And the cure isn't chemo; it's honesty. So today I join my sisters and brothers around the nation to once again come out and shout my joy at having the capacity to love.

I suspect she's right, but I've watched Phelps and the Westboro Church for 25 years now. I live quite close to them in Kansas. Whatever joy today brings, I think their dreams and their lives must be hell on earth. Let me explain.

To be specific, I'm rather famous among my friends for responding with an instantly arched back, flattened ears, puffed up fur, bared fangs and a loud, prolonged hiss to any mention of Jesus, Christ, the Bible or traditional churches. Like a tabby that turns a corner to unexpectedly bump into a pit bull, I find myself thrown into battle mode.

This is decidedly odd given that some of my best friends are Christians. I'm not joking. Two of them are even ministers. I vacation with them, laugh, debate and explore spirituality with them. These two aren't mere acquaintances. They're call-in-the-middle-of-the-night-when-I'm-desperate friends.

The ruling from the district court is indeed wonderful. Judge Vaughn Walker's legal arguments and especially his 80 findings of fact will provide aid and comfort to lawyers battling for marriage equality in other locales. Perhaps the publicity about his ruling will also teach the heterosexual population, or at least a portion of it, that the long, well-financed effort to derail marriage equality hurts same-sex headed families, hurts our children, and is the definition of cruelty.

But I've been around long enough to know that Judge Walker's opinion is only one step in a long process.

Today I explore LGBT America's twisted history with the Census Bureau in an article at 365Gay.com and report on how you can guarantee that you will be counted.

Back in my activist days, I discovered the importance of the census when I bumped into the amazing work of the Williams Institute. By mining census data, the UCLA institute destroyed anti-LGBT stereotypes.

"The big impact the census data have had is to undermine many of the stereotypes in the political discourse that often work against LGBT people," says Gary Gates, the senior demographer at the Williams Institute. "Same-sex couples certainly look a lot like married (heterosexual) couples. They're raising kids, they don't all live in urban areas, they own homes, and they serve in the military."

Kudos to the Kansas Equality Coalition for pushing and pushing and pushing on this bill. At best, this can be called the beginning of the process, not the end, but it is always good to see a victory, particularly in bright red Kansas.

The money quote:

Sen. Roger Reitz, R-Manhattan, noted the national discussion about ending the military's "don't ask don't tell" policy.

"The bottom line," he said, "is we've gotten to a place we are finding these types of things are really not acceptable."

Disclosure Alert: I helped found the Kansas Equality Coalition, but I no longer serve on its board or work with the group.

Honestly, I never thought I'd live to see this day.

The strong pro-gay stances of Powell, current Chairman Mike Mullen and retired Chairman John Shalikashvili give me hope. Listening to Mullen unequivocally state his opposition to the ban -- and watching him do it in front of a Senate committee -- was soul stirring. Mullen stood up for all the gay soldiers he had served with, and he stood up for integrity. (What a concept!)

The guest list is posted on Time Magazine's Swampland blog and includes:

The defeat in Maine was horrible in itself, but it was even more galling because it came as voters in Washington state were on their way to approving an "everything-but-marriage" recognition of domestic partner rights.

On Bilerico and elsewhere bloggers declared their wish to pull out of the fight. Longtime activist Jeanne Córdova, for example, argued on her blog, The Lesbian World, that "the LGBT movement should stop wasting our precious funds and energy" on a losing, limited strategy. "(I)t's time to re-direct the gay movement into fighting the real battle for civil rights in all 50 states," she wrote.

The sad reality is that there is truth in her argument.

Let me count my fears.

One: You don't know diddly, but think you've invented LGBT activism.

I came of age as a dyke activist (and we used the word "dyke" a lot then) shortly after I came out in 1979. It was a mere 10 years after Stonewall, yet I had no idea the Stonewall Riots had occurred. I certainly knew nothing about the hard work of activists who risked their lives and livelihoods before Stonewall.

Marriage equality lost yet again, this time in Maine. For anyone who's counting, and that is all of the MSM, that's 31 defeats for equality. Damn.

"Everything But Marriage" won in the state of Washington. The victory was narrow - 51.03 percent vs. 48.97 percent - but it was still a victory for LGBTQ people and our families.

In Kalamazoo, Mich., a landslide of voters - 65 percent - shouted "NO!" to the right's effort to be able to legally fire or refuse housing to us.