When I came out as a lesbian in 1978 aged 16 (having been publicly identified as a dyke two years earlier by bullies), it was miserable. I lost friends, was labelled a "freak", beaten up, sexually assaulted, and routinely harassed and threatened in public places. A year later, when living away from home with my girlfriend, we were both arrested for stealing a tin of peas and two lamb chops. In my pocket was one of those strips of photographs lovers take in a photo booth. When the magistrate was presented with "evidence" of our sexual deviance he asked if we could be referred to a psychiatrist in order to ascertain whether our thieving behaviour was all part of a psychotic madness.

I am now in my 50s and the world I live in is a million miles away from those bad old days. Or is it? The law reform charity Stonewall, in its latest survey, has found that anti-gay prejudice is routine in schools, and violence towards lesbians and gay men is still very much a fact of life in the UK.

No Premier League footballer is out as gay, and there are still places in cities and villages across the UK where same-sex couples dare not hold hands in public. The brilliant charity the Albert Kennedy Trust would not need to operate were it not for the fact that young LGBT people are still thrown out of their family homes, or treated so badly they run away, because they are not straight.

It is because of the huge changes in attitudes and legislation of late, along with the realisation that there is still much more to achieve, that I decided to write a book about lesbian and gay culture and politics today. I want to find out the state of the gay nation, and have lots of questions to ask of lesbians, gay men and straight people as I assemble my portrait.

As a young woman I met lesbian feminists who refused to accept the conservative view that sexuality is innate. We could see that heterosexuality, under the system of patriarchy, was bad for women, and would wear badges bearing the question, "Y B A wife?". It was liberating to be a lesbian and to opt out of the nuclear family.

How ironic, one might say, that today the introduction of equal marriage legislation is seen by many as the ultimate victory in the battle for equality. No longer are lesbians and gay men calling for liberation from the tyranny of normality; rather we consider assimilation to be the end goal. But is this a bad thing? Maybe it became tiresome being sexual outlaws and radicals, hanging on to our difference rather than striving for acceptance. Perhaps being seen as "ordinary" is a huge political achievement?

I want to know what makes us lesbian or gay. A gene? Opportunity? The desire to break free of convention? Is sexual preference biologically determined or socially constructed? Many of us say, "We can't help the way we are. We were born this way." Do we say it because we truly believe it, or is it in order to console those with an anti-gay agenda? Have we happily gone from the picket line to the picket fence without a backward glance?

What about relations within the "gay community"? Do lesbians and gay men have anything at all in common except for being the potential or actual targets of anti-gay bigotry?

Have we now reached a stage where being a "sexual outlaw" and maintaining the "only gay in the village" mentality has no place in a society that has granted (almost) full legal and civil protection and acceptance of same-sex relationships?

Thirty-five years ago, women who had children prior to coming out as lesbian would lose custody battles, often to violent and abusive ex-husbands, for no other reason than being "sexually deviant". Lesbians and gay men would lose jobs, homes and the right to be recognised as each others' next of kin in sickness and death.

But have we reached the utopia of equality, or have we simply blended into a straight society hell-bent on making us respectable? I want you to help me figure this out by answering my questions online and following me as I focus on topics such as religion, the science of sexuality and gay and lesbian families on Comment is free over the next few weeks. The 70s and 80s may well be viewed as the golden age of "gay politics". But has this politics really gone away, or just slipped below the radar? Is the personal still political for gay people in the 21st century? We shall see.

To fill out the survey that will inform Julie Bindel's book Straight Expectations, go here if you identify as heterosexual and here if you identify as other than heterosexual