This pageant contestant wanted to promote acceptance. She didn't know whether she'd get it.

Some people come out by writing letters to their parents. Some plaster rainbows all over their social media pages. Some bake cakes.

Rachel Taylor used the Utah State University beauty pageant.

Taylor doesn’t remember the exact moment when she knew she was bisexual, but she does recall the first time she watched The Hunger Games. And she definitely remembers Jennifer Lawrence.

“I remember having this thing for Katniss and I was appalled that she had two shitty men to choose from,” Taylor said. “I didn’t realize until later it was like actual attraction.”

She didn’t have the context for such feelings. Taylor grew up in North Salt Lake, the daughter of a pediatric dentist and a salesman for a software company. Raised a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, she belonged to a church that believes marriage is between one man and one woman only — and in which discussion of other options is often limited.

It wasn’t until college that she learned what bisexuality was. And that’s when it all came together.

The first steps

Like a lot of people, she started coming out little by little. The first person she told was the boy she was dating her first year of college. She was grateful when he was supportive of her.

“I kissed my friends all the time,” Taylor said. “I was going on dates with girls that were in our friend group and who identified that way.”

So, Taylor wasn’t “out,” but she wasn’t “in,” either. Different people knew different things. And over time Taylor realized she didn’t like the fact that anyone might think they have to keep a secret for her.

Even still, there’s a pretty long distance between “I want to come out” and “I want to come out at the Miss USU pageant.” But every Miss USU contestant has to pick a platform — the pageant winner get money to advance her cause — and as Taylor was choosing hers, an idea began to take shape.

A dream parade

Taylor’s platform was “acceptance.” Her plan, if she won, was to throw a pride parade on a campus where the vast majority of students are members of the same church she grew up in.

“I wanted people to have acceptance at the core of their college experience,” she said. “I had pride in the university, and I felt the university had pride in me, but I didn’t know if all the students felt the same way I did.”

Taylor knew, though, that she couldn’t present that experience without disclosing her sexual identity. “It would feel hypocritical,” she said.

So, there it was.

No going back

Taylor was shaking. She had recited her speech to herself over and over, sure that she would mess it up.

“Once I had spoken it into existence, I couldn’t take it back,” Taylor said. “It definitely scared me.”

But she’d made her decision.

More than 130 people were in the audience. There was no way of knowing how many more people were watching on USU’s live stream of the event, set up to ensure social distancing could be maintained in the auditorium during the global COVID-19 pandemic.

She took the stage.

“My name is Rachel Taylor,” she began.

An outpouring of positivity

There was no notable reaction in the audience when Taylor announced her bisexuality. There were no gasps or boos, but there was no immediate cheers or applause, either — not until she was done explaining her platform and finished with her turn on stage.

Even then, the response wasn’t notably different from what met all of the other sequin-gowned women who stood before the crowd on that night.

Taylor figured there would be some blowback, though. Someone would protest. Someone would say something cruel. Someone would do something.

But what actually happened took her by surprise.

“I really was worried about negative feedback,” she said, “but I can’t think of any I’ve had.”

Pageant organizer Vanessa Moser didn’t know about Taylor’s plans but said she was excited and proud to be part of that moment.

“It takes a lot of strength and courage to be vulnerable with a large group of people who you don't know,” Moser said. “It meant a lot to me that I got to be part of her journey and be right next to her through the whole thing.”

Moser said she noticed an outpouring of positivity toward Taylor.

“With Rachel being so honest at this event I think it completely changed the whole atmosphere,” Moser said. “Sometimes events like these can come off as cheesy or silly, but when you have someone like Rachel who pours out her soul into her platform and expresses who she is, it touches people.

Beautiful and bold

Daria Fuell knew that her friend wasn’t straight, but she wouldn’t find out until the night of the pageant that Taylor identified as bisexual.

As former president of the Student Alumni Association, now graduated, Fuell has watched every Miss USU pageant since 2016. This year she watched from her home using the livestream.

At Taylor’s announcement, Fuell cheered.

“Rachel has always been a strong female presence at our campus and in our community,” Fuell said. “To see her take ownership of who she is and share it proudly in that public sphere was something courageous and inspirational.”

Fuell also said she hopes that Taylor’s story can show other students that USU is a place that will accept them for who they are.

Macy Keith, a mentor for LGBTQIA+ students at Utah State, believes Taylor’s coming out says a lot about who Taylor is.

“It’s a beautiful and bold move to come out anytime,” Keith said. “To do so publicly is huge. It helps others feel more comfortable and seen when they see their peers being proud and verbal about who they are.”

Taylor made her coming out “social media official” on the day after the event. More than 150 people commented on her post. Not one of the comments was negative.

Where acceptance begins

Taylor wasn’t expecting to even place at the pageant, so it came as little surprise to her that someone else took the tiara. But because she didn’t win, there won’t be a parade — not one funded by the Miss USU winning, at least.

And Taylor figures that’s OK. Pride parades may be where acceptance is on display, but it’s not where acceptance begins. That only happens when a person feels brave enough to be honest about who they are in front of their friends, family and community.

Getting there isn’t always easy. But Taylor figures she’s learned a few things along the way that might help others.

“I would say find strength in other people’s stories but don’t feel the need to live them exactly,” Taylor said. “The more I started to accept myself I realized everyone had a different path and journey with it. The coming out should be personal.”

She knows how it feels to wonder if people will be accepting. And now she knows, too, what it’s like to find out they are.

“There will be a battalion of people who support you in coming out,” she says, “including me.”