“Gay people. They just make life harder for the rest of us.”
Hearing those words, I wanted to throw up. Just a little bit.
I’m sure that my friend Meghan didn’t feel too great either after hearing this, considering that she happens to be bisexual. At the time, she was a few feet away washing dishes that weren’t hers.
We’re all good people here, and I want to present one fact that if accepted, could bring us a little closer to world peace.
Heteronormativity isn’t a thing.
In other words, never assume that you’re surrounded by only straight people, because statistically speaking, you’re probably wrong. Anywhere from 4% to 10% of the population is LGBTQ, and they don’t all live in California. Some of them are friends that you see everyday.
Trust me.
Since coming to BYU— the most religious student body in the nation— I’ve made so many friends that aren’t perfectly straight. All of them of are good, wonderful humans that love God dearly. They strive for LDS standards, which follow mainstream Christian ideals. The world doesn't see why they should. Some really good, spiritual people don’t see why they should. And at every turn, LGBTQ Christians hear insensitive and/or ignorant remarks.
It’s not natural.
I would let my child be anything but gay.
Gays should leave the country.
Remarks like this make life very difficult for the LGBTQ Christian community, even when they find solace and comfort in their faith. My friend Caitlin Griffith says it well:
“You know, it must be really nice to be a person born perfectly straight into society…
...Never having to fight with yourself about what's right or wrong inside of you, never having to hate yourself for being "sick" or "sinful" or never feeling alone for being different than most others that surround you, who even though they don't think they treat you differently, still do.”
I still remember when I first became friends with Meghan. She broke one of the aglets on my favorite sparkly zebra-print shoes, and though she insisted fretfully on replacing my laces, I stubbornly fixed the problem with neon green duct tape instead. We split the aglet— I taped my half into my journal— and the rest is history. I have no other friend that has been more consistently caring in my life.
I also remember the first time we discussed her sexual orientation. She had just returned from an LDS mission in El Salvador a few months earlier. She was in despair. It was nighttime. From fragments of almost confessions, I had already pieced together that she was bisexual. I sat on one end of my leather brown couch and she curled up in fetal position on the other end. The artificial yellow lighting cast a sickly, faded hue over the entire room.
I already know, I told her as she struggled to gather her courage.
Don’t say it, she pleaded. All her muscles went taut. She couldn’t look at me. Suddenly, she flew off the couch and bolted to another room.
Life is rough for everyone. Many people with same gender attraction live in isolated fear, unable to turn to those closest to them. Just because someone hasn’t told you they’re gay doesn’t mean that they aren’t. And if they are gay, they don't have to tell you. They may not even want to tell you.
Maybe their silence is a judgment on us rather than on them.
That night, after Meghan fled the room, we started texting because it was easier for her. And as we communicated, I felt overwhelmed by God’s love for her.
Me: I see you :) I see you for your struggles, strengths, and goodness, and I’m here for you.
Meghan:` “You see me”... Maybe that is why I feel peace.
Do you see them? Do you see them as someone's child, as a child of God? Do you see their good hearts?
Because even if you don't, they're here. And they're listening. Be compassionate; you never know the struggles of those around you.
