Liking someone of the same gender is like preferring pineapple on pizza. Some people don’t like it (me, I hate pineapple on pizza. But I don’t care if you do). But other people love it. There will always be someone out there who’s a hater and that’s their full time job. That doesn’t mean you have to make that your job, too. It doesn’t even pay anything. Loving someone regardless of pronouns is just a preference, it’s not a sin and it’s not a bad thing at all. Some people view it as unholy, but others, they tolerate it. And others still are a part of the pineapple-lovers community.

What does homophobia do to our society? Well, what did anti-Semitism do to us? We ended up killing millions, torturing and scarring many others. Not only that, but there was the verbal abuse from all sides. There was the stigma. Tell me, how is this different from now? Sure, there aren’t concentration camps yet, but there is verbal abuse, and physical abuse. People are dying.

People are dying. Not sinners, not aliens. People. They live lives just like us, except they have to hide as if they were aliens. I am not an alien. Some days, I wish I was, because I don’t want to be a part of our human race. There are good people. But these good people get shoved down and slandered by tyrants.

Do you want America to become the new Germany? To have people look at our country and say, “Oh, that’s where so and so brutalized millions of people for virtually no reason.”

I know it’s unfair to Germans. There are many Germans who are honorable and loving and all the things we self-centered Americans claim to be. But they will forever be tainted under the stigma of Hitler, just like Americans are stained by being one of the last countries to outlaw slavery.

Do we need another stigma? I don’t think so. I’ve made it a life goal to not be an ignorant American.

I don’t want to be that person who is an all around culturally deprived asshole.

I don’t want to live in a country where being gay/trans/etc. is a sin. Do you?

I’m a straight cis-gneder male. Over fifty, I’ve never been sexually attracted to another male, so odds are I never will be. But I’ve classed myself as a Rainbow Warrior since the 1980s. Here’s why.

I knew zero out gay people in high school. Back then, they remained closeted. But on my dorm floor, there were two out gay dudes (not into each other, BTW). One, who I’ll call Plato, was skinny, shy and very smart. I’d often see him in our dorm-floor’s study lounge, nose buried in university physics and calculus homework. We weren’t friends, exactly, not even ‘study buddies’ at the time, though we became friends later. But we both studied in the lounge a lot and took the same hard classes, so we commiserated.

I’d been one of the “cool kids” in high school, and was still broad, athletic and popular... though I’d transformed from a jock into a post-punker with goth-leanings by then, all biker-black leather, ratty tees, and holey jeans.

One Friday, two friends and I rolled home early. We stopped. Several people (six, I think) ringed around Plato, taunting him with homophobic and AIDS-related slurs, pushing him from person to person. They were drunk, upper-middle-class kids, all of who would pledge a fraternity the next year. My buddies and I burst in, and they backed down. One called us “fag lovers” and Plato our “butt buddy.”

I remember shaking my head, saddened at the ignorance. And pissed by the lack of empathy.

I mean, how could they not see that this poor kid was an outsider who’d been bullied his whole life? And Plato was a quiet, studious, decent human being whom I’d seen help people with math homework, myself included. He was a good neighbor who HAPPENED to be sexually attracted to other men. Which, in the grand scheme of things seemed to mean very little.

Later, they tried to sue for peace... because, like I said, I was still cool and they knew. They said they were just joking. They said they didn’t care about Plato being gay, just that he was a dweeb. One knew I was a weekly church-goer, and tried the “Christian morality” argument on me, saying the homosexuality was a sin, to which I said, “let he among you who is without since cast the first stone.”

To them all, I said “fuck you,” and cut them out of my life. I deceided I’d rather live in a world surrounded by Platos than homophobic frat-boys EVEN THOUGH the frat-boys gained important connections that forwarded their careers and thus could help me advance.

the isolation she felt

from the ripe age of six,

from the church where she belonged,

but never quite fit.

her school was attached,

and the classes did vary,

but mass 4 times a week,

and daily religion class?

too much for her to bear.

she had a girlfriend of a public school,

she was closeted so she wouldn’t be obscene.

she lived in fear, in dread, in pain,

so she took scissors to her wrists,

then hair,

chopped in off,

in vain.

she left the cursed catholic school and parted to the sea,

though people were the mass o’ plenty

and water was $1.25.

she was called slurs while she held the hand

of her boyfriend, a closeted trans man.

despite his maleness, the jeering never stopped,

one followed with a trash can,

telling them to take a hop.

every night until this day,

she’d beg and plead, she’d humbly pray

to a god she’s not sure she believes in,

please, don’t make me gay.

she’s out, she’s proud, and happy too,

but there’s still the part inside her

that has only the view

of a person who is broken in guilt

that the church so many find love in

has left her with.

she dreams no more of heaven,

just the brutal fall to hell,

just the god that you find mercy with

not ringing her entry bell.

she cannot visit her high school

in fear of breaking down,

not sobbing, no,

in fear not breathing, scratching the wrists

that she scarred some time ago.

homophobia is simple,

it’s slurs and abuse.

it’s the outcome of those actions

that leave the victims so reclused.

At first I did not know what this is but now I know. This shouldn't even be a thing. It doesn't fucking matter who they are. They are still humans. No matter what color, race, sex, size or physical features; they are STILL humans & they deserve our love. I love & accept all of you / them. I absolutely hate this fucking cruel, horrible world. Anyone who is dealing with this right now, I want to let you know that you are not alone, you are loved and appreciated, you do belong in this world & we are here for you. I am here for you. Fuck all those who say, do or think otherwise. U BELONG. U MATTER. U R LOVED. U R APPRECIATED. U WILL OVERCOME. U WILL POWER THOUGH. I PROMISE.

Homophobia is not always cruel. It is not always mean.

Sometimes a misunderstanding, but always hurtful, always seen.

It's saying that you don't understand, that you accept the people not the sin.

It's mentioning that you're "okay with it" because you have "gay friends."

It is whispers and secrets and being afraid that people will find out.

It is moving away and not being okay and never being sure how to come out.

It's finding one friend that makes you feel seen

but then sometimes each friend comes with two enemies

and it's hard

and confusing

and they try to tell you that it's all make believe

but those feelings you're feeling are valid and fair

but homophobic people might not care

What if you came home after a hard day’s work with a full heart to witness a glorious setting sun on an average fall day to notice in your peripheral vision through the dappled shade of a stand tall oak in your front yard that something just wasn’t quite right? Without rolling down the window, you smell the irregularity first. A mildewy unpleasant acrid smell, if you had to guess, burnt compost? Putrid. And you step out of the car to see it, and you don’t want to believe your eyes, so at first you convince yourself it is just a result of the sun going down; shade coming from the oak, holding on to wishful thinking.

By now you should know better. You who have had DYKE spray painted on the driver’s side of your your Camero. You who have had your partner’s picture defaced at work with an anonymous note attached to the broken glass that said, “Die faggot freak!” You that had relatives disown you even before you came out. And others insisting you change the subject when you finally did find the courage to come out, with silencing words, “That subject makes me feel uncomfortable,” or “Why don’t you look into conversion therapy?”

Holding your breathe, you look down at the ground, allowing your eyes to witness, briefly, with dry cheeks because you are long out of tears.

A cross. Burnt. Across your entire lawn. A cross that was not there when you left for work. Telling you that this abomination had to take place in broad daylight, to the heads of neighbors turned away. Turned towards what? God? The bible? The bible that teaches love your neighbor as yourself? And the note. Hung with masking tape to your front door confirmed the horrifying hate crime, “Sinners beware. God’s wrath will find you.” So with incontrovertible proof, only a fool wouldn’t call the police. They will help you, make you feel secure in your sanctuary again. Restore your dignity.

Stepping inside, grateful that the house wasn’t burnt down to the ground, you call the cops, they come out, make a report, investigate, and reassure you that they will get to the bottom of it. And then they call you in a week to tell you they have caught the perpetrator. They tell you he is sorry, he won’t do it again, and no they will not reveal his identity to you, and they urge you not to press charges, so you don’t.

Instead you go outside under the cover of darkness, plant some grass seed and then you watch it grow from the inside feeling lucky, because you know all too well how much worse today was for others like you. The suicides, the physical violence, the murders, HIV. And you wait facing down fear, for the next big dose of hate to find you, keeping a smile on your face, because you refuse to give them that too, unwilling to let the haters define you, knowing you are who you were born to be, ignoring the tag with your number on it spinning in a lottery cage, hopeful against odds your fatal number is not drawn, smiling, living, breathing, inside their world, until, as you.

Do not be afraid of the terrors of the night, nor the arrow that flies in the day. - Psalm 91:5, New Living Translation

Their fists were palpable. Even though they never touched me. The girl with the baby carriage was the worst, silent but such a betrayal of our basic humanity, our shared existence. They chased me down Main Street in Turlock with a menacing swagger; I ducked into a Jack in the Box near the corner of Main and Golden Gate, waited a minute, and snuck out the side-exit as they waited for me, imaginary chains in hand. I looked at a passing butch in a truck - maybe just a farmer - with desperation. "How the hell do you live in this town?!" I silently pleaded to her.

For years I blamed myself. I never wore those jeans or that sweater together again. I didn't call the police because I was just coming out and, in my mind, there was nothing to report. Now I see that there was everything to report, but my internalized phobias prevented me from seeing that.

Despite that horrifying experience, I still called - and call - Turlock my home. My feeling of belonging there was stronger than their fists, and I continued to go out, even at night, but always with a handy getaway plan (usually my bicycle) or as someone as my safety. Cognitive dissonance is what kept me feeling safe: if I don't wear that, if I just cover myself with a hat on the day of the Marriage Equality decision, then I'll be okay, I'll be safe. I rode my bike, got called a few names when I went jogging - yes, jogging! - but I was in a safe liminal stage where I was figuring things out and, except for the night when those people chased me, my world was unshakable.

But to this day, National Day of Silence rings in my ears as National Fuck Up a Queer Day, and whenever I see the mug shots of female hate crime suspects I'm instantly brought back to the terror of that night.

Hate

Some people just have to hate.

They fear others

And themselves

And their shadows.

They don’t know love,

I mean truly what love is.

They hate the different.

They hate the good.

They hate those who make a difference.

And their fear rages

Against foreigners,

The homeless

And the poor.

When a man loves a woman

They don’t understand

But their red rage isn’t triggered

Because that’s normal

To them.

But the kiss of lips

And the breath of love

Wears no gender

And takes off labels.

And this they cannot see.

Two people, loving

Hand in hand

Trigger all their hate.

To them, this is worse than bombing babies,

Than destroying cities, in the name of peace

And than grabbing women by the pussy.

Their outrage knows no bounds

Because two people in love

Are madly in love

Or passionately in lust.

Surely this will destroy MY life, they think –

The loving actions of two people they will never meet

Must be abhorred

But dropping bombs on babies

Is ignored.

This was my big moment. I had the podium. My entire junior year was sitting before me, waiting for me to make my pitch on why I should be class president next year. My heart was pounding. My palms were clammy and my throat was just so dry. A shiver went through my spine as I stepped up to the mic. I tried to speak but words didn't come out. I looked down at my pre-approved speech, took a deep breath, and then glanced at the cross at the back of the auditorium. I gave it one last try before I incoherently mumbled out my generic sales-pitch of free pizza fridays and relaxed dress code and sat down before anyone could politely clap.

I had practiced coming out in front of a mirror the night before the big speech, but couldn't do it. The only other gay kid I knew at the time didn't last long after he had come out. I was just too scared to do it myself. It would be another two years before I would have the courage to come out to anyone close to me.

Homophobia implies a fear of homosexuals, but it is homosexuals who are often afraid of being themselves. It takes so many forms, damaging in all of them. From not being allowed to marry the person they love to being kicked out of their house because they came out to being denied services because of their orientation to being called a faggot while holding hands with their boyfriend. All of these are forms of homophobia. The acceptingness that people are less that people just because they love someone of the same sex.

No one should be afraid to love someone just because they are the same sex. We are an accepting society, as long as everyone is the same as that person. The same wealth. The same ethicity. The same values. The same tastes. That is not a strong society. What makes our society truely good is when we accept everyone for who they are. When we accept people's differences, we allow them to build up an even better society than anyone can accomplish on their own. This is why things like homophobia, and other discriminations bring down society.

#gayguy #LGBT #gay #nonfiction #prose #truestory #original #challenge #streamofconcious

It hurts me when I hear people judging Christians for judging them.

Real Christians don't judge. They spread truth in love.

They spread peace. They spread joy.

They embrace the souls.

It hurts me when I hear people hating Christians for hating them.

Real Christians don't hate. They love no matter your race.

No matter your view. No matter your past.

They embrace the souls.

It hurts me when I hear people condemning Christians for condemning them.

Real Christians don't condemn. They don't wish hell on any.

They don't wish bad on any. They wish good to all.

They embrace the souls.

It hurts me when I hear Christians calling others sinners.

Yes, we are all sinners. That's why Jesus died.

No one is perfect but Him.

But, through Him, we can do all things.

We can strive for better lives.

We can build each other up.

We can improve day by day

Just the way God intended.

Take a look at the bible. Take a look at Jesus.

He embraced the souls of sinners.

He died for their very lives.

He died so that we might live.

He lives within.

The Holy Spirit Guides.

God protects.

Real Christians spread truth,

and this is it.