A secret very, very, very little people know about me, is that until I was at least double digits I thought that I was gay. This wasn’t caused by a persistent thought about the same gender in a uniquely sexual way but, rather an appreciation for the opposite gender. I related to males more than females and thought that perhaps G-d made a mistake in my gender cocktail.
Around this time Ghostwriter was my favorite show, I detested anything any shade of pink, and always considered it a compliment when I was referred to as ‘one of the guys.’ I was 9 and rocking a side pony tail like it was my day job before I could fully understand that I had been filled with falsely preconceived ideas of what love was, wasn’t, and that this emotion must only ever be shared between a man and a woman.
“That’s it.,” I thought.
There was no way I was straight.
My parents didn’t give me ‘the talk.’ In fact, they avoided many talks including the one that started and ended with ‘just because you are not attracted to anyone in your 16 person 1st grade class doesn’t make you a lesbian.’ But, the lesson my parents did give–perhaps unintentionally–was that there is a necessary beauty in allowing a person to come into their own, on their own. This is a lesson I carry with me every day and am continually grateful that I was raised–in whatever accidental way it was– to take and love people for who they are, NOT who I want them to be.
I bring this up now because, Colorado recently passed the civil union bill. I couldn’t be a prouder resident of this state and only hope that this bill, and those like it, continue to be passed nation wide. While I may not rock side ponytails anymore and I definitely know that I’m not gay; that’s not important. What matters is that gay or not, people are people and deserve those rights and liberties entrusted thousands of years ago. So I say, no freedom till we’re equal; damn right I support it.