When I began my career in technology, I was 32 years old, lived in Chicago, was married to a man, and pregnant with my first child. Today, 13 years later, I am still working in technology, divorced, have two children, live in Austin, and I am openly gay. My life has evolved drastically, yet the one constant piece—working in tech—has not changed. And for that, I am forever grateful. The tech industry is evolving when it comes to diversity and inclusion. In 2024, women made up just 33% of the tech-related workforce, with the LGBTQ+ community making up only 2–3%. So yes, there's more work to be done. And I know not everyone reading this will have experienced the same acceptance in tech as I have, which also means we have more work to do.
Let's rewind to the beginning of my journey. I started my career as a television news reporter, moving up markets from Fayetteville, Arkansas, to Davenport, Iowa, to Tulsa, Oklahoma, and finally to Oklahoma City. While I have worked alongside some of the most brilliant, talented colleagues in the news business, it's a tough career. I always knew I liked women, but being a woman on television in the early 2000s came with expectations. Homosexuality was not socially accepted and could be job-threatening. Jana Shontel, who landed her first on-air reporting job in 2000, is the perfect example. In 2019, Shontel went on "Today" to share her story. She said she knew she was gay, but feared viewers would be turned off if she came out, or even just changed the way she dressed. She wore the "unofficial" female uniform: makeup, straightened hair, manicured nails, and high heels. She played the part of a heterosexual female journalist: dying her hair blond, wearing heavy jewelry, and heavy makeup.
I did, too. I wore blazers, kitten heels, hair spray, and heavy makeup. I dated men, flirted with men, and even let myself be harassed by men in some situations. I remember one of my news directors pulled me into his office one day and said, "Abby, did you brush your hair before going on camera?" The question surprised me. I laughed with discomfort. Surely he would never ask a man that question. Heterosexuality felt like a necessity if I wanted to keep moving up in the news business. Succumbing to the expectations of men was also a must.
When I left the business in 2008, I didn't look back, even when the housing market crashed, and the economy tanked. I moved to New York City to start a new life, which included a new career. That's how I started working in public relations, first leading communications for a state senator, and then working for a public relations agency. While those environments were more supportive of women, homosexuality was still not publicly accepted. So I tucked away my true self. She stepped behind the curtain, thinking she would never get her moment on stage. I dated more men, met my ex-husband (who is one of the most caring and supportive men I have ever known), and got married. While I respected my ex-husband, I still felt lost inside. In my personal life, I always felt like an outsider looking in. I made friends, lost friends, and hung onto some that truly weren't my tribe. My career, however, took off.
In 2013, we moved to Chicago, and I landed a job at a cybersecurity company. I found the opening on Indeed. I applied, not knowing anything about the industry. I still used a Blackberry, which was antiquated by then. I called gigabytes "ji-ga-bites" (with a hard "i"). The acronyms SIEM, WAF, and DLP were a foreign language. Thankfully, I was a fast learner. Once again, I worked alongside some of the most brilliant, patient, and supportive colleagues I had ever met. They taught me what I needed to know to lead a public relations program at a cybersecurity company.
Most importantly, I started feeling like I had found like-minded people. I realized I was a quirky tech geek, too. Each one of my co-workers had a unique, eccentric personality, and I loved it. They felt authentic, accepting, and real. Each cybersecurity company I joined after that felt like a built-in family. It felt like a place where I could be my quirky self, and I was respected for it. They felt like home.
However, I still was not my 100% authentic self. While my professional life was enriched with colleagues who felt like my tribe, my personal life continued to suffer. I had buried my queer identity and focused on building my family. I loved raising my kids, but socially, I still felt empty. I lacked self-love, and I didn't know why. Then the pandemic hit, which stalled everything. At that point, I just wanted to keep my job. Work was bringing out the best in me. I needed to embrace and focus on that.
2020 felt like the peak of my career. I was leading marketing for IBM's team of hackers and responders. I surrounded myself with supportive and brilliant leaders, colleagues, journalists, and analysts. My ex and I moved to Austin, Texas. I worked from home, and we wanted a place with warm weather and good schools. My career continued to excel. I moved on from IBM and joined a cloud company where I was leading a team of 15 people, the most I had ever led. I felt accepted at work, although I still wasn't my true, whole self, and I knew it. As time went on, the hole inside me grew larger. I had chosen the wrong tribe in my personal life again. I felt like an outsider everywhere, except at work.
In 2024, at 43 years old, I had a moment. For my entire adult life, I had buried my homosexuality because I was worried about losing my career. However, in 2024, being gay was accepted (more so at least), especially in the technology industry, in which I had more than a decade of experience by that point. Many tech companies embraced inclusion and diversity. My time to shine was then. I had accepted a marketing role at one of the most supportive, accepting, diverse, caring companies I had ever encountered—Hydrolix—where I continue to work today.
I believe in Hydrolix and the value we are providing for companies worldwide, although believing in the product isn't the only reason I love this company. The people I work with at Hydrolix respect women, including queer women like me, and Hydrolix had my back when very few people did.
I had worked at Hydrolix for less than a year when I had finally come out to my ex-husband, friends, kids, and family, which blew up my life. Friends abandoned me. Rumors spread. My ex and I went through a divorce. I had multiple women crush my heart. For six months, I lived on an island. It felt like no one wanted to come near me, and yet, I still had to go to work, and of course, be a mom.
Through all of it, Hydrolix stood by my side. I will never forget when I went to New York City for a work trip. My heart was shattered from the separation process, losing friends, and getting my heart broken by a woman. I lost ten pounds from not eating. My chest bone had caved in. Yet I had to work, especially since I was a soon to be a divorced mom on one income. Our Hydrolix Senior Vice President of Sales, an executive at the company, joined me. I tried holding it together. I am not a person who cries at work. But one night we sat down for dinner, just the two of us, and I broke. I started sobbing at the table. I told her everything that had happened and everything I was feeling. I thought for sure she would think I was unprofessional, unstable, and shouldn't be working at the company.
She did the opposite. She came to my side of the table and held me in her arms. She listened to me, gave me advice, and showed so much compassion it made me cry more. Although my tears were of hope. At that moment, I realized that my work family supported me. They appreciated me for my talents, bravery, and authenticity. My personal life may have been a mess, but my professional life was a shining star. Every colleague, manager, and executive at the company picked me up, dried my tears, and pushed me to be me.
After that work trip, my sadness dissipated. I started looking forward and stopped dwelling on my heartaches of the past. I met the most amazing group of queer friends I could ever find. I became a better mom, co-parent, and friend to those who stuck by my side. I bought my own house, adjusted to the new custody schedule, continued dating women, and came into my own.
Coming out this late in life will always be a journey of ups and downs. But working in the technology industry, especially at Hydrolix, will always be a blessing. My career is my rock. My colleagues and leaders are my family. January 2026 marked my two-year anniversary since coming out. I recently went on an all-company retreat in Canada, where I showed up authentically, wearing Nikes with dresses and jumpers, light makeup, and sometimes a beanie. I met other queer women and men with whom I felt instant community. My next goal is to build an employee resource group for the LGBTQ+ community at Hydrolix. Our human resources leaders love the idea.
I finally feel accepted for who I am. I finally feel like I am on the inside. I finally feel self-love. So on this International Women's Day, I hope all women can embrace being themselves in their personal and professional lives. I hope they find a work environment that makes them feel safe and at home. We all have more work to do, but if we show up authentically, one person at a time, and celebrate those who support us, while speaking up against those who don't, maybe we can see progress faster. I am forever grateful for those who have lifted me up, and I will continue to speak up for those who deserve the same.
ⓒ 2026 TECHTIMES.com All rights reserved. Do not reproduce without permission.
