My
So-called Life was, like, such a big deal

In the fall of '94, I spent my days skulking around the dingy halls of Torrington High, trying to pretend I wasn't in love with my (male) best friend. And when I wasn't manning the fitting room of T.J. Maxx, my nights were occupied with my chain-smoking (female) friends and our aimless drives around town. That was my so-called life.

I remember catching My So-called Life during this time and being absolutely floored. That was, like, so me. Angela, the 15-year-old protagonist, resembled my friends -- sort of plain, swathed in flannel -- and her inner dialogue killed me softly. ("You know how sometimes the last sentence you said, like, echoes in your brain and keeps sounding stupider?") Angela and her gang weren't witty like Friends. They didn't live in 90210. Their world was stilted speech, unrequited love, and tiny victories. MSCL, canceled after just 19 episodes, felt like the first scripted reality show. Never has a program depicted everyday existence with such breathtaking honesty.

MSCL will once again be available to all when a DVD boxed set arrives October 30 (Shout! Factory; $69.99). "I know it's important for people to see themselves on television," series creator Winnie Holzman says. "When there's an absence of that, you feel unnoticed." Holzman created characters we all knew--or were. Rickie Vasquez was Angela's sensitive queer confidant. He didn't anger viewers; instead, Holzman says, "We got fan mail about Rickie."

The character was brought to life by actor Wilson Cruz, who came out to his family when ABC picked up the show. "In many ways the show was cathartic," says Cruz. "I was this boy just coming out, still living with the scars of high school, and I could go to the studio, say these words, and then walk away from it and let it go."

Something happened to me as I watched Rickie edge out of the closet and fall for straight boys. The shame I harbored loosened its grip on my psyche; for the first time, my so-called life didn't feel sick, just simply human.