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People used to feel oddly empowered to tell me all the reasons I couldn't win. Because I was a woman. Because I was a lesbian. Because I was from the West Side of Manhattan.

In high school I had sex with girls quite a few times. They were straight women who I convinced to jump in the sack with me.

Shortly thereafter, some friends encouraged me to try out for the Miss South Carolina World beauty pageant. To my surprise, I won - and was sent to New York City to compete nationally.

Other women looked on me as a rival. And it pained me a great deal.

If you're in a heterosexual relationship and you're a female, you win.

I was voted the most beautiful girl in the world in 1958, and courted by every young, available man in Los Angeles, most of whom I didn't go out with, by the way.

In the summer we graduated we flipped out completely, drinking beer, cruising in our cars and beating up each other. It was a crazy summer. That's when I started to be interested in girls.

I may have been sexy, but I was covered up total. There was something left to the imagination.

I became a lesbian because of women, because women are beautiful, strong, and compassionate.

I was just another girl.