Dare To Be

Growing up, I never thought I would become a professional entertainer. I never thought I would be a DJ who helped my hometown of Milwaukee win an NBA title. I never thought I would be in charge of the soundtrack as my countrymen won a Ryder Cup golf championship. I never thought I would perform on stage with international superstars like Shaq or Lizzo at the World’s Largest Music Festival, Summerfest.

I never thought I would be able to attend Wisconsin on a basketball scholarship and eventually go on to play pro ball in Europe.

I never thought I would write a children’s book, have my own line of clothing, host my own podcast, be asked to give motivational talks, be the subject of a documentary or, in the eyes of some, become a role model.

I never thought I would consider myself an activist for social justice and the LGBTQ+ community.

I most certainly never thought I would be given a forum like this to share my experiences as part of National Coming Out Day.

I’m truly honored.

Everyone has their own story when it comes to their sexuality. I feel I was born gay. I had access to good morals and principles as a child, but struggled with the religious side of things. I was made to feel like I was doing something wrong.

My family made the process of coming out easy for me, starting with my mom, Beth Weirick. When I was in college, she drove to Madison to pick me up and bring me home to Milwaukee. I remember looking at her and telling her that I had something important to share.

“Is this where you tell me that you’re gay?” she asked.

It felt easy. That was it.

I give my mom a lot of credit for making me feel comfortable with who I am. I think back to my freshman or sophomore year in high school when most parents are having informative sex talks with their kids, my mom didn’t use any pronouns — he or she — which was really impactful at the time because it could have been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. She was really thoughtful about that and that’s something I take a lot of pride in with her.

Coming out to my dad, Vince Nicols, was a similar experience. I was a freshman with the Badgers and he had come to watch me play a game at North Carolina State. I remember walking up in the stands after the game — I’m not sure why I chose that moment — and I remember hugging him as I was crying.

“What’s the matter?” he asked me, concerned that my tears were basketball related.

“I’m gay,” I told him.

He seemed upset, but not because of what I said, but because I admitted I was scared to tell him.

It was a huge relief.

I remember being in sixth or seventh grade, attending this small Catholic neighborhood school. We were given a group project around the topic of marriage. You had to get married — one boy and one girl — and the two of you would go through life together. You both had to get a job, make money and pay bills. We were even given a bag of flour to symbolize our child and instructions on how to “care” for it. 

That specific project was something that I struggled with and didn’t understand it at the time. I can remember hearing teachers talk about marrying a man because marriage was defined as a man being with a woman. I remember raising my hand and asking, “What if I don’t want to get married?” Even though I wasn’t knowingly attracted to women at that point, but it didn’t sound right or feel right to me. I also remember being the only one in my class speaking up about it. I can only hope that a project like that would not happen today.

I was in high school when I started to better understand my sexuality. I wasn’t out. I was still working through what religion had instilled in me, what I was supposed to be and what society wanted me to be. I would sit at my desk and wonder what was wrong with me. I was trying to figure it all out on top of being a teenager.

Everyone has their own unique journey. During my junior season with the Badgers, I was medically redshirted — told I could no longer play basketball — due to a series of concussions. I spent two years after graduation in the real world trying to figure out who I was and what I was going to do next. Somehow I found my way back to basketball. I got clearance from doctors, finished my two years of playing eligibility at Bellermine University in Louisville, Kentucky, then headed to Europe to play professionally.

That seven-year stretch — from the day I was redshirted to my first season as a pro — was challenging, but I just kept going. I’ll always be grateful to UW women’s basketball coach Jane Albright, my teammates and advisers like Mary Weaver-Klees for helping me survive and navigate as a Division I student-athlete. It was not easy, so I’m grateful for their support and guidance.

As I was working on my master’s degree in communication at Bellermine, I came across the words that have helped define my life: Dare to Be. It has become my brand, my motto, my mantra. I created a simple logo — a stick figure with a heart — to represent all people and allow for everyone to connect with one another. I put that logo on shirts, sweatshirts, hats and wristbands.

But Dare to Be is more than a logo. It’s a philosophy.

I didn’t realize in the moment what Dare to Be really meant to me. I just knew it ignited something in me. It’s become a life mantra that I use to not only inspire myself, but inspire other people to be the best version of themselves. It’s something that I tried to emulate whether I’m DJ’ing or speaking at an event, expressing through my clothing line or my children’s book, or creating dialogue on my podcast.

I had no idea that Dare to Be would reach the level it has. That’s been the fun part. I embrace the adventure and do my best to keep an open heart and an open mind. The possibilities are endless. I want to see how far I can take all of this.

Dare to Be is an open-ended concept because I think on any given day anyone can dare to be strong, dare to be brave, dare to be courageous, dare to be bold, dare to be funny, dare to be proud. That’s something I’ve tried to carry with me wherever I go and whatever I do with whomever I meet. The idea of getting one percent better every day is something that athletics have instilled in me. I believe that mentality of pushing yourself has carried over into my professional and personal life.

Bucks players came together to boycott Game Five of their first-round series vs. Orlando in protest to the incident. The NBA postponed the rest of the scheduled games that night. A players’ association meeting resulted in three commitments to social justice reform efforts, including one to open up NBA arenas around the country as voting centers.   

I remember being flooded with emotions as that night evolved. I was sad, disappointed, frustrated and angry. I was also proud of those men. I’m honored to have been there and experienced that in person. I feel fortunate that I supported the Bucks as they reminded the world that Black Lives Matter. It really hit close to home.

The top-seeded Bucks wound up losing to Miami in the second round, ending a heavy, unprecedented year. But a year later, I was not only a witness to my hometown team winning its first NBA title since 1971, I was their official DJ. It was overwhelming. I’m still processing it all. Watching that team unify a city with love, joy and exuberance is an experience that I will carry with me the rest of my life. It was absolutely beautiful.

I think of them as family, whether by blood or by circumstance. I believe they’re the reason why my passion for sports, music and people has become my life’s calling.

I appreciate that there’s a day set aside for this courageous act of coming out, but the LGBTQ+ community is something I think about all year round. I don’t take that for granted.

I feel lucky that my immediate family, my people, loved me no matter what was happening to me. So I had that space to just be. I’m really grateful to my family for that.

There have been numerous times in my life where I haven’t felt seen or heard and that doesn’t feel good. I believe there’s room at the table for everyone. We just have to move over and create some space because there’s enough for all of us to eat.

Going forward, I want to be that someone I needed when I was in grade school, high school, even college. I want to be that someone who will listen, support, guide, influence and, hopefully, brighten someone’s day.

You never know when you’re going to meet a difference-maker. You never know when a door will be held open for you. You never know when an act of courage or selflessness will change your life forever.

I want to encourage others to put themselves out there. I want to encourage others to follow their hearts.

Dare to Be.

Did you enjoy reading this? Read more My Words stories from the Badgers here.