I’m young. Really young. But I have really strong opinions for somebody my age. I consider LA my “growing up” city because that was where I truly figured out exactly what my opinions and beliefs were.
I remember when I was six we went to a Pride festival at a beach near our apartment. In my eyes, this was something that I had never seen before. But it had a great effect on me. When I told my father on the phone what I had done that day, he threw a fit and was outraged. From that moment on, my support of the LGBT community strengthened. I couldn’t believe how somebody could be upset over something so simple. In my six-year-old mind, the men (and women) holding hands and kissing was just normal. I didn’t think of it any other way. It wasn’t surprising, it wasn’t horrifying. I compared men dating other men to men dating women. Love was love, right?
After that festival, I began to notice the gay couples in the movies my family would watch together, or in TV shows, or even in the streets. Many of my uncle’s friends were gay as well. I understood that in our house, this was all normal. Regular. Typical, even.
When I moved to a small Southern town, I realized that not many families were as accepting as mine. Kids in school would say harsh words, or make gay jokes. And whenever somebody would say something mean, I would call them out. I wouldn’t tolerate it, and I still don’t. I’m heterosexual, but that doesn’t mean that I will let such cruelty and ignorance just pass me by.
To me, any type of love that goes against society is beautiful. That is the kind of love that has no boundaries, that takes risks. That’s the kind of love that’s so strong, it doesn’t care what people think of it. That is the kind of bravery and courage that I wish everybody could have.