June 10, 1996: "Hi! I'm some random housewife from BuFu, Maryland, and this is The Rosie O'Donnell Show. On today's show, George Clooney, soap star Susan Lucci, and the music of Toni Braxton. Hit it, John!"

So began an era of my life. I watched The Rosie O'Donnell Show every chance I got. It was something I hadn't seen on TV before. It was a talk show I was allowed to watch, unlike Ricki Lake or Sally or shows of that ilk. Of course, I had to wrestle the remote away from my mom and switch it off of Regis and Kathie Lee (obviously I come by daytime television honestly), but it never was too much of a hassle, because Kathie Lee? Ew.

I loved everything about Rosie and her show. I loved that the monologue was so honest and funny. In retrospect, maybe it wasn't as honest as I always thought, but I couldn't tell the difference. I loved her friendly and playful bandleader, John McDaniel. I loved her little sound effects board and the games they'd play with the audience and that they'd give out tons of free stuff. For quite a while, my dream was to be in the show's studio audience.

I had a Koosh ball slingshot. I listened to her Christmas CDs. I watched her host the Tony Awards. I drove to Iowa City and saw Rent on her recommendation. I read all the biographies. I was strangely drawn to her and I wanted to get my hands on everything I could.

Toward the end of her run, though, I stopped watching the show. Part of it was that I was busy, sure. I was in high school by that time and there were many more demands on my time. But the show had also become...I want to say 'darker,' but that's not exactly right. I always wondered why, how something that had once been so fun and entertaining had come to be so hard to watch.

Rosie made it okay to do two things. She, a powerful and entertaining celebrity, said it was okay to watch television until your eyeballs fell out of your head. Someone needed to tell me that, because my parents certainly thought it was weird that I'd watch it every chance I got, regardless of what was on.

She also made it okay to be gay. I remember that at one point during those years of struggling with my adolescent sexuality when I saw a tabloid headline about 'Rosie's secret lesbian lover' or some nonsense. My mom came into my room to say goodnight, and I was crying as she turned out the lights. I remember asking her: "Is Rosie gay?" I don't remember her answer, or even if she did answer. I do remember crying myself to sleep that night. How could someone so nice and wonderful be committing such a grievous sin? Did she not know she'd be going straight to hell? Thank God for religion; otherwise it might have been easy for me to come out.

A few years later, Rosie finally came out. She told Diane Sawyer that she liked girls. She wrote a book. She left her talk show. By that time, I was more comfortable with my own sexuality too. But there was Rosie, still inspiring me, proving that 'gay' and 'successful' were not mutually exclusive.

Of course, that's when Rosie's empire began to collapse. After years of trying to live up to this 'Queen of Nice' image the media created for her, she wanted to try something different. She got a punk rock haircut and went back to the standup that began her career. The papers called her all kinds of names and announced that her 'reign' was over.

Her magazine, Rosie, was locked in a desperate struggle for editorial control. Finally, Rosie left the magazine, saying that she could not have her name on a magazine that did not represent her vision and ideas. So the publisher of the magazine sued her for breach of contract. The legal blah was also fodder for the papers, who followed the story each step of the way.

Rosie wanted to pursue another career opportunity, that of Broadway producer. She made it her goal to bring Boy George's musical Taboo across the Atlantic to the Great White Way. She invested $10 million of her own money in the production.

In a case of extremely unfortunate timing, Taboo opened the day after the Rosie magazine lawsuit was settled. Neither party won in the courtroom, but Rosie took a hit in the press. That negative publicity and some bad reviews for the play made tickets a hard sell. This eventually led to last week's announcement that Taboo would be closing at the beginning of February, after 100 performances.

Rosie called the show a "fulfilling experience," but the New York Post and other media outlets paint a different picture. Why? The stories of her temper abound: behind the scenes at the talk show, in staff meetings at the magazine. This woman has been known to raise her voice on occasion. And so what? Who cares? She is a self-described perfectionist who demands 100% from her staff. I'd hate to think it's because she is gay and female; would a male CEO be held to the same standard?

Regardless of these stories, she has done a tremendous amount of good. She is a huge advocate for adoption, raising a brood herself and donating truckloads of money to various charities. Have we forgotten the year that she missed out on inclusion in a list of 'richest celebrities' because she had donated so much of her money to worthy causes? This is an extremely giving, passionate person who has used her celebrity to actively make a difference in the world.

Sometimes the things she believes in don't work out. Sometimes her investments fail.

But.

That happens to everyone who invests. Wouldn't you freak out a little if you had $10 million invested in something and then you discovered it might be in trouble?

"But she lied to America! She pretended she wasn't gay!"

She did no such thing. She just kept her private life private. She didn't lie to her friends and family. She just didn't talk about her girlfriend on the show. It's not like it wasn't common knowledge. And then everyone got uppity when she finally did publicly come out.

This perception in America that celebrities don't have the same right to privacy as everyone else needs to go. These people entertain us for a living, but they're allowed days off too. Do you demand that your doctor check out that thing on your back if you happen to see him out in a restaurant? If I saw someone at the mall and she asked me to make her a pizza, I'd probably slap her.

So Rosie O'Donnell has had a rough few months. Life isn't all Ring Dings, Ho Hos, and Hostess cakes, even if you are rich. But at the end of the day, she gets to go home to her partner and her family and put her feet up, and why isn't she entitled to that? Just because she didn't discuss the finer points of LBD in between Koosh balls doesn't mean there was some conspiracy.

"But what about Tom Cruise?"

What about Tom Cruise? So she had a crush on Tom Cruise. I hate Tom Cruise, but I wouldn't complain if he mowed the lawn and brought me lemonade, either.

Coming out isn't easy no matter who you are, and deciding to share an intimate, personal part of your life with your fans should not mean that you are subjected to some new standard. The show ended and Rosie decided to try some new things. Perhaps they weren't as successful as she might have hoped, but at least she tried them.

Here's hoping that her next venture, a gay cruise for families, will be wildly successful. And here's hoping that, bizarre and vicious media reports notwithstanding, she is happy at the end of the day. It's all anyone can really hope for.

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