Homophobia and Hate

I just finished watching The Laramie Project (movie version) with my mom, which prompted us to go into another conversation about my sexuality.

My mom is scared for me, and fear is a natural feeling for her to have for her daughter. We live in a small town, and I am queer. She is terrified for me, and wants me to be more quiet about it so as to not attract any more attention than necessary. Not because she doesn't love me and accept me, but because she is scared of the hate that she knows exists in the world.

She is scared that I don't understand the hate, and that I don't understand how the hate will wear on my soul.

I don't know how to tell her that she doesn't understand.

I can't live in the closet anymore, I can't protect myself with a lie. That is such an oxymoron. I would be trying to protect myself with a lie.

Living a lie wears on my soul, too.

Both actions grate away at my existence: if I hide who I am, I can not live with myself, but if i live who I am other people will hate me for it.

The thing is, if I am in the closet I am tortured and alone. If I am in the open, I will still be tortured, but there will be people who I can reach out to, people who will understand, accept, and share life with me.

I cannot torture myself alone anymore. I cannot live that lie.

For better of for worse, I will continue to live as I am, I will continue to be me, and I will refuse to let anyone else destroy my self image for it.

I do not choose to be queer. That is not a choice. My identity is not a choice. My choice is that I will no longer live in fear.