There are so many different environmental factors for just how

Hear now the words of Becky Albertalli, spoken with compassion and trembling truth: “There are so many different environmental factors for just how safe it is for a kid to come out.” This is not merely a reflection, but a call to awareness, a reminder that the path to honesty about one’s self is not equal for all. It is a truth carved from the realities of family, of community, of faith, of law, of culture. For what seems to one child a simple act of confession, to another may be a step into danger.

The meaning lies in the weight of environmental factors—those forces that surround each soul from birth. A child raised in a home of acceptance may find their truth greeted with love, while another raised under the roof of fear may find rejection, punishment, or exile. Schools, churches, neighborhoods, nations—all become the stage upon which the act of coming out is played. To speak of identity is not only an inward decision but a negotiation with the outward world, a world that may embrace or betray.

History offers us the tale of Alan Turing, the brilliant mathematician whose genius cracked the codes of war and hastened the end of tyranny. Yet when he revealed his truth—that he loved men—his own nation condemned him, subjecting him to chemical torment until his spirit broke. Though he saved millions, the environmental factors of his time made his honesty a death sentence. His story shines as both a triumph and a tragedy, teaching us how the safety of revelation depends not upon the courage of the one who speaks, but upon the mercy of the world that listens.

Albertalli’s words remind us that every child carries this weight differently. Some walk with hope in open fields of understanding; others tread carefully, measuring each step, unsure if love or hate waits on the other side of disclosure. The act of coming out is not one choice but many: when, to whom, in what place, under what conditions. To demand it of all without thought of safety is to ignore the varied landscapes of their lives.

The lesson is carved deeply: never assume the ease of another’s truth. To those who are allies, the duty is clear—become a safe environmental factor. Become the home, the friend, the teacher, the voice that offers refuge. Speak love so loudly that the world’s hatred cannot drown it. Create spaces where honesty is not punished but celebrated, where every identity is not merely tolerated but cherished. For the safety of one child may depend upon the readiness of one adult to stand as shield.

What then must you do? Begin in the smallest circle: your words, your home, your community. Reject the speech of scorn, uplift the voices of love. Educate yourself so that ignorance does not fester into cruelty. When a child tests the waters of truth with a trembling word, respond not with silence but with warmth, so they know that in you, at least, the storm cannot harm them.

And to those who carry their truth within, uncertain of safety: know this—you are not less for waiting. Your worth is not diminished by silence, nor is your courage absent because you must protect yourself. The timing of revelation is yours alone, shaped by the world you inhabit. Choose it not for others, but for your own soul’s peace.

So remember Becky Albertalli’s wisdom: the act of coming out is never the same for all, for it is shaped by countless environmental factors. Some fields are fertile, others barren; some waters are calm, others storm-tossed. Let us labor to make the world fertile and calm, so that when a child at last reveals their truth, they find not fear, but love waiting for them. For this is the true task of a just generation: to turn danger into safety, and silence into song.