Ad Age is marking Pride Month 2023 with our Honoring Creative Excellence package, in which LGBTQ+ creators revisit some of their favorite projects. (Read the introduction here.) This week, our guest editor is SS+K Creative Director Lucas Crigler. Here, Crigler writes about coming out and coming of age at a small agency in Providence.

During this Pride month, despite the prevailing anti-LGBTQ legislation, I want to share a tale of hope. It’s a story where I not only survived but flourished in a career that once seemed like a distant dream. Many know me as the originator of the Mastercard “True Name” card, but my journey began long before that.

It was in Providence, Rhode Island, over a decade ago, where I started my career at Nail Communications. Although it was a small agency, I fell in love with how creatively driven they were. And as the only art director in the agency, I had the opportunity to work closely alongside the founders, Brian Gross and Alec Beckett, who in time became two of my greatest (LGBTQ) allies. It wasn’t instant, though.

You see, when I was hired, I hadn’t come out as a lesbian to anyone but my closest friends. I lived in constant fear of discrimination and pleaded with my copywriter to keep my secret within the confines of our friendship, apprehensive that it could potentially harm my career.

Eventually, however, my trust grew when I found out Alec’s best friend and classmate from Harvard was also a lesbian. With that, my anxieties dissipated. And one day I grew the courage to casually work the fact I had a girlfriend into a conversation. I was relieved when Alec’s acceptance was steadfast and unwavering, unaffected by my disclosure without any trace of hesitation. From then on, I felt safe and embraced, no longer needing to hide who I truly was.

It gets better. In 2013, when Rhode Island legalized gay marriage, my colleagues not only supported me, but celebrated alongside me. On the day the law passed, they came up with the idea for each of us to wear different colored pants to work so that we could stand together and form a rainbow for a photo. Their support filled my heart.

And to my delight, my co-workers’ acknowledgment transcended mere recognition of my sexual identity. They esteemed me as a creative advertising professional, placing trust in my opinions and ideas.

One project sticks out in my mind. We were pitching Fivefingers and presented the company with a single concept—to create a completely “analog” website, stripping it of any “technology” and showcasing the minimalist nature of their shoes. We proposed tattooing their company story and product benefits onto two bare bodies, one male and one female, enabling users to navigate intimately and provocatively around them.

As a young creative, I was determined to prove my abilities. So, I dedicated long hours at the agency, spending countless nights mapping and stenciling the web copy in various typefaces onto a life-size printout of a human form. The process was demanding, and my hand would cramp and go numb. However, our efforts paid off as we not only won the pitch, but also sold the idea and brought the website to life—ultimately winning a One Show Gold Pencil for it. It was an extraordinary alignment of circumstances. And believe it or not, the pencil we received was for ... typography. My mind was blown.

So, off to NYC we went to attend the show and collect the award. And after leaving the stage I vividly remember the guys turning to me to exclaim, “You’ve made it now, kid. It doesn’t get any better than this!”—and I didn’t doubt them.

Fast-forward to today. For my contributions to projects such as Honda’s “Paper” and Mastercard’s “True Name,” I’ve earned just a few more advertising awards and even gained an Emmy nomination. It’s been a wild ride.

However, I couldn’t have reached this point without the unwavering support of Brian and Alec those many years ago and the dozens of other allies I’ve encountered throughout my career. They believed in me and supported my professional goals as I continued to grow into my authentic self as a transgender man. It’s been the greatest gift—to be able to focus on the work without worrying about my identity getting in the way. For that, I’m forever grateful.

And to those who remain hidden in the shadows, contemplating their own revelations, take your time, but don’t ever give up. You’re not alone.