A couple days ago, I had an argument-, which sprouted from a debate- about homosexuality.

And you know, since I consider myself on the gay side, I take personal offense.

And its amazing how many people take the subject lightly.

 “What do I think? I think it’s a choice. You see, I have a vagina. My boyfriend, he has a penis. Are you telling me I have homosexual tendencies since you insist gay fetishes are genetic? I must have them, and apparently, so should my boyfriend. But I don’t. And you know what I think about gays and lesbians? It’s not natural. And they can’t love. Because love, it comes after years and years, and being gay is simply an attraction. It’s not natural. And its definitely, definitely, not normal. Not okay.”

Because, when they finished talking about it, because after I had already gone home, slept, and woken up the next day, her words haunted me. Her words spoke for most of the nation. Her words spoke for many, many people living on this earth.

And apparently, I’m confused. I’m not okay.

I’m a mistake.

Don’t tell me that that how I feel is a game to you. Don’t tell me I’m wrong. I’m capable of loving a woman just as you are capable of loving a man. And you know what? I couldn’t bear going up to thousands of people who grew up gay or lesbian and loved and telling them they spent their lives confused. I couldn’t bear go to someone who spent lives together in love and tell them it wasn’t natural. I couldn’t bear someone doing that to me. I would die.

I couldn’t bear someone taking a human right away from me. I can’t explain how hard it was for the gay kid in middle school who got beat up everyday because of being who he was. I can’t explain to you how it felt when he looked at me. I can’t explain how it feels when someone who doesn’t know I’m a lesbian says that we all deserve to burn in hell. I can’t tell you how it feels to know that I am a burden to this earth for nothing except loving.

I couldn’t bear being told that I was born the wrong way. I have a purpose as all of you, and I’m going to be proud of whom the hell I am. What I don’t understand is how someone could defy the science of a human heart. Are you telling me that whom I love is an illusion? Are you going to break my heart and say that I’m not okay? That I’m making this up?

It’s not a choice. I didn’t make the choice to be this way. I’ve struggled more than I tell anyone I know. I’ve cried nights thinking I was sinning. I’ve spent nights thinking of how I could possibly perish so I could be one less burden on all of you. And you know what’s the strangest part of it all?

I convinced myself for so long that I wasn’t normal, okay or natural. And I did this just to please you. I sacrificed pride and confidence for the opinions of others.

And that of all things, is definitely, definitely not normal.