Identity

Identity
Sydney Abbott

Scenario: I came out to my friend, who is a really important person in my life, and she refused to accept my sexuality. She keeps trying to change me... This is my response.

Do you think it's easy for me to admit this to you? You who sit on your high horse of judgment. You who stare down your nose at people like me and tell us that we're wrong. Don't you understand? I'm prostrating myself before you, humbling myself, begging for your acceptance. Why can't you give that to me? You tell me that I'm a child of God, that he loves me for who I am, that he created me... Yet you tell me that God didn't make me gay. You tell me that I'm wrong for admitting these feelings that are locked deep inside, feelings that have yearned to surface since the day I left my mother's womb. Why can't you just look me in the eyes, and tell me that you love me? Why can't you tell me that you accept me just as I am, without looking to change me? It's not as simple as denying my feelings, living a life of celibacy, ignoring the truth that longs to escape my lips. I can't deny who I am, merely to satisfy you and the rest of the world that loves dragging me down. I'm gay, I'm gay, I'm gay!!! Why can't you just accept it?

There is no choice for me here.. It's not a choice between being gay, and being straight. It's a choice of accepting my identity or denying it. Accepting my identity allows me to live a full and happy life, maybe eventually finding the one person who I am truly meant to be with for the rest of eternity. The other choice, denial, equals death. It is not an option, because if I deny myself, my identity, I will cease to exist. There is nothing in this world that we can take with us when we leave it, except for ourselves. My identity is all that I have, and if I refuse to accept it there is nothing left.

I thought about ending it. Ending this worthless existence and finally finding the peace I've longed for. Suicide and self loathing. My tears could have filled so many glasses, my heart lay broken and bleeding on the cold cement as I stood there and contemplated my choices. The knife in hand, I sobbed, wanting it all to be over. I wished that death would find me so that I wouldn't have to suffer this endless torment any longer... But one day I realized something. As I stood on the edge of tomorrow, overlooking the precipice my life hung over, I realized something so pivotal my entire world shook. I don't need your approval. All my life I've constantly sought the approval of others, wanting validation from others so that I can feel better about myself. But in the end, I don't need it. I don't need you to feel comfortable with who I am, because I am comfortable with who I am. That's really all that matters.

The choice here, belongs entirely to you... You can choose to accept me for who I am, love me for who I am... Or you can go fuck yourself. Because I don't need your bullshit anymore.