Gay people are evil. Not bad or misguided, but evil. What they do, male or female, is not only disgusting but a one-way ticket to burn in hell for eternity. Gay "rights" is a meaningless phrase, because they shouldn't have rights. They brought us AIDS and are rightfully dying from their own iniquity.
The above is what I was taught from youth into adolescence. The truth, of course, is rather different.
This is going to devolve into a rant, but rightfully so.
I'm still rather young. I'm 26, able of body, with a summa cum laude degree from an Ivy League university, so I can't really complain. I am unemployed at the moment, a recovering alcoholic, and can't even fathom introducing a boyfriend to my family. I, like many of my generation, live at home, am overwhelmed by debt, entirely disillusioned with the political process in America, and have little hope for the future. Not complaining about the above, just stating the facts of the matter. I'm fortunate enough to be able to turn that ship around. I write and protest knowing that most can't.
I knew I had a thing for boys when I was all of twelve. I didn't -- couldn't -- admit it to myself then, but I knew. My "first time" was with my best friend, soccer player, ridiculously lovely then and still, and now happily married. I don't know if he's queer or if that night was just a youthful fling or if he even remembers it. I know I do. We were 13. He's a committed evangelical Christian, I'm a committed Unitarian agnostic Socialist; in this town it never would have worked, but gods -- kissing him upended my world.
I've dated my fair share of women and loved many of them. I think often of the girlfriends I've had and what I did wrong and how I could have been better. I've been engaged, though not married -- that story itself could fill a novel, and I won't get into it. The women I've been fortunate enough to have in my life will never be forgotten.
Yet even before that first encounter with another man, I knew I wasn't straight; I don't know that I would have been able to express it then, but I knew. One of the major factors in my turn away from Christianity and spirituality altogether (adopting Unitarianism has been instrumental in overcoming the latter) was the evangelical stance against queerness as a concept, not to mention the hostility and frankly hate of the LGBT community obtaining on the Christian right. Not only did I hate myself, but came to question whether Christian ideology could ever embrace a queer person, whether the Jesus Christ of the Sermon on the Mount would embrace me or shake my hand.
The thing is, and the Jesus Christ I respect would agree, that love is love. It really doesn't matter which genders are involved.
I'm male. I'm bisexual. I don't care if my eventual partner (if I'm ever fortunate enough to find someone willing to be my partner) has a penis or a vagina; I care a great deal if he or she loves me. Really, that's what matters. Love is love. Affection is affection, and desire is desire. Gender isn't and never should be an issue.
On National Coming Out Day, let's celebrate diversity in sexuality, encourage those in the closet to be who they are and not only not to fear that, but to embrace it fully and thoroughly. Let's honor the queer folk who came before us. Let's honor the straight folk who have done so much to support us. Let's honor a president who signed into law the repeal of the odious "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" law, and who is fighting against the ill-named "Defense of Marriage" Act.
And let's be proud of who we are.
Update: Small edit re: Jonathan Hoag's comment.