Throughout high school, and a very small portion of college, I had a lot of girlfriends. I had… Seven? Eight? Somewhere around there. They all meant a lot to me but not as much as they should have.
During the first Winter Break of my college career, I had decided to come out. My mother had been talking to me about gay people and how they are closely related to retarded people. I saw the logic she was going through in her head but it still upset me. Why was being gay a deformity? Why should being gay, be a handicap? It shouldn’t and it isn’t. That day I told one of my friends, the following week I told my roommate, and then the next person to tell was my girlfriend.
I had never felt more horrible about something in my entire life. Tears spilled from both of our eyes during that hour or so that we talked. I had just planned on pretending I was straight forever. Why would I tell anyone? I didn’t want to be judged based on something I had no control of. Granted, my timing was shitty, seeing as how I was in a relationship with a woman, but it had to happen eventually. I was so close with all of my new friends in my dorm. There is no sense of privacy, so I don’t think hiding it forever would be easy. And why should I?
Being gay isn’t a bad thing. Being gay doesn’t mean that you should be treated any differently. No one can help the sexual orientation that they come out with and for people to say that it is a “choice” are wrong. The people who say that it is a choice, are people who aren’t gay. We can’t help it. We are attracted to the same sex and it can’t be changed. If it could, I would have done it by now.
So…
Here I am, at the end of winter term, in my freshman year of college. I have already bombed a midterm, skipped one class 13 times, came out to my friends and family, AND asked a straight guy if he was gay just to find out that, not only is he straight, but his girlfriend sits next to him in that class when I thought they were just friends.
Can’t wait to see what else college can throw my way.
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