The Beacon Weekly
We’re a society that loves to label things. We label each other by the clothes we wear-- your value is rated by the expense of the tags. We label our cliques-- geeks, jocks, freaks-- and wouldn’t dream of mingling outside of our particular circle. Well, I have something to say about that.
STOP LABELING ME! What do they say? Don’t judge a book by its cover? Get to know a person!!!
So I’m fat. What, you think I have ice cream for breakfast and cake for dinner? My lunch consists of an entire pizza? I’ll bet there are tiny people who eat much more than I do. Just because I’m large doesn’t mean I’m meant to be rolled down hills. The excess poundage doesn’t bounce the insults off harmlessly. They still stick and puncture, and they still hurt.
Oh, and by the way, I’m a lesbian. Did I just change your entire view of me? Are you now picturing me with short, spiky hair, working under the hood of a car? Or prancing around on the arm of my buff girlfriend, afraid to dirty my dress or break a nail? Well guess what- I hate to break it to the masses, but there are normal looking lesbians out there. I'm a big fat dyke, and proud of it. I even have a girlfriend, so evidently there are others who don't mind that not every chick doesn't follow 'what a lesbian should do'. Yes, I can admire a male form. I can say that a man is attractive. It doesn’t mean I want to jump in bed with him. It’s an admiration of beauty, like artwork. Get over it.
If I hear one more time "How did you choose that? What made you decide you're gay?" I'm gonna kill somebody. I DIDN'T CHOOSE. It's just what I am. What makes you straight? Hmmm? No particular answer, you just woke up one morning and knew you liked the opposite sex. Well, same thing here, only I realized I liked girls. And I despise people who suggest that I chose this. Yeah, I'm really gonna choose an orientation that is going to get me ostracized for possibly the rest of my life, prevent me from legally marrying, and make living terms with my extremely traditional family tenuous at best. Oh yeah, sounds like fun. For my next trick, I think I'll choose a trip to the iron maiden.
I refuse to get into the topic of religion with anyone. As soon as I mention the word ‘pagan’ I get anything from “Satan worshipper” to “oh, my (friend, sister, cousin’s mother’s best friend’s monkey) is too, that means you have to do ____”. I emphasize, I do not have to do anything. My Goddess is understanding of my scheduling, and if I can’t be dancing naked in a field at precisely midnight on the full moon, She understands. I am not going to be struck down for not being in deep meditation on Halloween. And no, I can’t make so-and-so fall madly in love with you, and no, I can’t throw lightning. Stop watching so many movies. Do you always believe everything you hear? Sheesh.
And no, I’m not going straight to hell for either of the above. For one, I don’t believe in hell. It doesn’t exist in my religion, nor does Satan, nor any other manifestation of absolute evil. For another, being gay isn’t a sin, anyway. So there.