Representation is important.

I’ll never forget the moment I knew I was queer.

It was 2006 and I was 12 years old. Rosie O’Donnell broadcast a documentary titled, All Aboard! Rosie’s Family Cruise. It was about Rosie, her family and several other queer families sharing personal stories of coming out and the harsh realities they had faced for being queer. I had never been exposed to this type of lifestyle but I was intrigued. As the cruise ship docked in the Bahamas, those onboard were met with a group of protesters shunning them for being queer. I was deeply frustrated at this blatant display of disrespect. Yet, I soon realized that my frustration was partnered with something else: I felt connected to these courageous queer people. Even at such a young age, I thought, “maybe this is me,” although I didn’t understand it. But for the next five years, I thought about that documentary and how it made me feel.

It wasn’t until I had my first queer relationship at 17 that I knew this was me for real. Still, I kept this feeling to myself and away from friends and family for months. I thought I would be able to withhold this secret forever—until I experienced my first real heartbreak. Every day for three months, I would come home from school crying, miserable, at some points not showing up to class and with the threat of not being able to graduate on time hanging over my head.

My mom, the strict West-Indian parent, had had enough of me and my antics and sat me down. She looked at me and said, “You are not leaving this table until you tell me what’s wrong with you.” The fear and panic that set in was unimaginable. Was I really about to out myself like this while I’m already deep in the trenches of my sadness? I took a breath and said: “Mom, you’re not going to want to hear this but I am a lesbian. The girl I have been hanging with was not just my friend. She was my girlfriend.” The brief moment of silence that followed felt like an eternity, but my mom, although visibly shocked, maintained her composure and said to me, “I’m only happy when you are happy and I want to make sure you are happy. But are you sure this is you?” I told her I was certain; it really was, it really is. We embraced and I cried. I felt so relieved. For a moment, I even forgot about the heartbreak I was dealing with. I was out for the very first time!

Fast forward to college in NYC. This was my moment to shine. I was openly queer to just about everyone and never felt ashamed or felt I had to hide who I was. My first job out of college was at an investment bank, and I could feel the vibe almost immediately. I knew that in order to garner respect from senior leaders, I would have to pretend to be straight. I faked it for almost two years. I started to feel troubled. In conversations I would always say, “my boyfriend and I did this…” or I would make up a fake male name when discussing my partner. In those moments, I felt so small and guarded. All I wanted to say was my girlfriend and scream it. It really affected how I perceived myself. Coming out at work is never easy and will never be easy. While the reality is I will be coming out for the rest of my life, I promised myself I would to do so regardless of any potential judgment.

I got lucky with Prologis. I joined the company two years ago, during Pride Month 2020, and knew this was my opportunity to finally feel seen and heard. During one of my first virtual happy hours within my team, one of my colleagues had a Zoom background of a Pride flag. I was shocked. I knew this person wasn’t part of the queer community but seeing this instantly put me at ease and showed me I had allies on my team. At the end of the call, as everyone was sharing their weekend plans, I took a deep breath and I said it for the first time: “…my girlfriend and I…” No one batted an eye and the conversation moved on smoothly. This was also the first time I was asked what her name was. One colleague even shared an I&D video, produced by Prologis, that had been a source of comfort and support when they came out. This further confirmed why my coming out was important—I needed to be there for my colleagues who were also struggling.

My life has changed significantly. I am finally happy in my work environment. I feel liberated and even more confident to speak up. Most recently, I was able to come out to more family members and I fully believe that because of Prologis, I was able to find the strength and courage to do so. As co-lead for the Prologis Pride Network (PPN), I will continue to advocate for a safe and diverse culture so those who have been in my shoes are supported and comfortable at work. I thank and appreciate my colleagues for letting me be me. I’m 100 percent sure 12-year-old Megan is super proud of where I am today.