From the time I was able to articulate how I felt, I knew I was different. Even when I was young, I could tell that other people weren’t like me. The things they wanted, that they said they felt–none of it resonated with me. It was confusing. I never spoke about it with my parents, although by my demeanor and oblique hints I think they might have suspected. As I got older, I tried to socialize like everyone else, and never spoke about how I felt. Life went on–I went to college, got a job, married, had a daughter. Still, I knew I was different.
In conversations with others and from interactions I’ve had on the Internet, I’ve come to realize that I’m not alone. There are others, many others like me, and I have started to seek them out. I’m no longer willing to pretend in the face of those who oppose us. I’m tired of pretending, of smiling and saying nothing, of subterfuge, of making nice, as if it’s OK for them to act that way, as if it’s not OK for me to be who I am. No longer. I am what I am, and I’m going to admit it, loudly and proudly. If people don’t like it or disagree, I’m going to oppose them openly. I’m coming out of the closet.
I’m a universalist. Read the rest of this entry