Preface: This was something that had been stirring in my heart for the past couple weeks. I can’t pinpoint exactly why, but I felt that I needed to write this post… or at least put it out there.
I am not actually gay. But having grown up in the Bay Area, having gay friends and really observing as an outsider, I wanted to share my thoughts on it. I haven’t been vocal about it in the past and part of it came because I wasn’t sure what to say. Now after some thinking, praying and reflection, I feel that at some level, I think I get it.
I probably will get some negative responses to this and that’s fine with me. I might get positive ones too. This message comes from the heart and I write this out of love.
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When I first even got a glimpse or an idea of what being gay might be, I was a kid. I didn’t know what it meant really. I just thought it was some kind of term you used to say someone was different. I distinctly remember calling Michael Jackson gay because he was different. I don’t think it was necessarily the fact that he was very pale and sounded like a woman to me, but I just felt that being gay just meant you were different. I might have used it as an insult like this as a kid, but I never really believed it. I had no problem with it, really. It didn’t affect me, so it wasn’t my problem.
That mentality has stuck with me my entire life. I didn’t see it affecting my life, so I didn’t really deal with it. (When Prop 8 came around, I didn’t speak out for or against it. I don’t even remember if I voted.) Despite the fact that I grew up in the Bay Area, went to school with gays, it never really meant anything to me. Maybe because I was used to it. Maybe because I was never scolded or told how to feel about it. It wasn’t my life, so I just let it be.