The far right, of course, has a vested interest in keeping the "official" numbers of homosexuals low. Because if it's a small minority, then it's easier to call homosexuality an aberration, or worse. So they'll go out of their way to reduce any figure.

The more open left, however, wants to confirm the numbers scientifically, so that they can argue from solid ground, much like staking a claim against Creationism with the hard facts of evolution. There's nothing wrong with this approach. However, it will inevitably provide us with a figure that, while higher than the right's, is far too low.

Sex is a private affair, and homosexual sex even more so. The ramifications for being "different" in that way are great: social stigmatism, possible rejection by your own family, lack of legal protection and recognition, and, of course, the possibility of physical violence. The people who acknowledge their own homosexuality and embrace this path are incredibly brave. But many are not that brave. And there lies a potentially large number of hidden homosexuals.

How many unknown gays and lesbians have entered into heterosexual marriages because that is the path expected of them? How many led unfulfilled, perhaps miserable lives until they died? How many preferred this misery to facing the knowledge of their own homosexuality? I know a little something about this. Because, until recently, I was one of those people.

I had lesbian experiences as a pre-teen, but as I got older, I viewed that part of my life as "normal experimentation by an adolescent." I was attracted to boys. I was supposed to be attracted to boys. Therefore, I focused on boys. Dutifully, I had a series of unfulfilling relationships with several young men. I thought that they were unfulfilling because they simply "weren't the right guys." Eventually, I met the man I would marry.

My husband provided many wonderful characteristics that I had been missing from previous relationships, but I was still unfulfilled in my marriage. He is one of my best friends in the world, but it took me 12 years to figure out that he was my best friend and not really my ideal spouse. While I was still married to him, I met the woman who changed my life.

I moved in next door to this woman, and we became fast friends. Soon we couldn't stand to let a day go by without some contact. I hated having to go home after visiting her. After a few months of this, we realized we were falling in love. Since she had thought she was a heterosexual, too, it scared the hell out of both of us. Eventually, we had to admit to ourselves that we were in love, that we were lesbian, and that—holy cow—we probably had always been lesbian. That was a big shift.

It's been two years since that realization, and now that woman is my wife.

Some people may wonder how I could not know that I was a lesbian. And, looking back and seeing the obvious with 20/20 hindsight, I can understand that confusion. The reason, really, is safety. I don't mean physical safety. I mean emotional safety.

I have always felt different, like I didn't quite belong. But I always had the knowledge that my parents had certain expectations of me. If I met those expectations, I would be loved. If I didn't meet those expectations, they would withdraw their love. In short, my parents loved me very conditionally. So, if I did something they didn't like, I didn't necessarily stop the thing I was doing. But I learned to hide it. Some things I hid so well that I forgot where I put it. Being a lesbian was one of them.

Somewhere inside, I knew that if I were openly myself, openly a lesbian, that my parents would reject me. And I was right. When I married my lovely wife last year, they didn't come to my wedding. There were many excuses, but basically, that was their way of punishing me, and of withholding love. But I had grown up. I didn't need their approval any more, and I was able to stand up for myself and do it anyway. But at 35, it sure took me awhile to get there.

So, at 35 I grew up. But how many countless people never do? How many homosexuals are out there, trapped in unfulfilled lives because they are so afraid of the consequences that they can't even face the truth in themselves? You'll be happier this way, you lie to yourself. No, I like men. I'm not a lesbian. The greatest liar in the world is always your own mind.

Of course, if a person finds the courage to uncover this truth in themselves, it's not easy. I had to accept myself as a lesbian, accept my new relationship, leave my husband, reevaluate my past, and move into a netherworld where many people expect me to behave as a second-class citizen. (Hint: I refuse to.)

Some people do know this about themselves, of course, but they try to maintain two lives: a married, heterosexual facade, and their hidden "true" life. Former Governor James McGreevey is a classic example of trying to have it all. Bless his heart, he couldn't deny his truth, yet he couldn't face the rejection and loss of status that might occur if he came out of the closet.

Given the large numbers of people who, understandably, prefer denial to their own truth, I think that the percentage of homosexuals in the population is a lot larger than anybody thinks. I'm going to go out on a limb and even suggest that it's as high as 40%. I say that, unscientifically, because looking back at my own experience, I can more easily see the same patterns in others. And I see it around me a lot. If homosexuality were socially accepted and "no big deal," I think roughly half the population would be in a same-sex relationship at some point in their life. I also think a substantial percentage of people would switch back and forth easily, further blurring the line.

It's interesting to look back at people and imagine what they might have done if being homosexual had been an "acceptable" choice. What do Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, and Shirley Jackson have in common? Feeling stifled in unfulfilled marriages, writing like crazy, then killing themselves. Hidden truths? Definitely. Hidden lesbians? Very possibly.

But then, all we have to do is look in our own families. Almost every family has at least one secret story in which a man or woman married, only to discover on their wedding night that their new spouse wasn't interested in sleeping with them. In the past, they probably remained together and lived a lie, arranging, perhaps, for children and the perfect heterosexual facade.

When you start looking for the hidden homosexuals, the numbers sure do go up. And that's pretty scary for those people who, like me, told themselves the biggest lie there is. Denial of one's own truth can become a twisted, hateful monster, and, as Mary Shelley noted in a famous book, the monster always does the most damage to its creator.