I cried this morning when I heard.
I sobbed most of the three hour drive home from Bend.
It brought to mind all of the times that I have been made to feel afraid and small because of who I am, and who I love.
Kids started calling me a "Girl" in about the third grade. By 5th grade they had learned a new word. By 8th grade I had to drop out of public school because I had a nervous breakdown and I couldn't handle the stress.
And it wasn't just at school, some of the worst psychological and emotional abuse came from members of my own youth group, my own church. From the kids I went to church summer camp with.
Do you know what it's like to have a camp counselor lead a group of boys into your cabin while you are sleeping and write "Fag" and "Girl" and "Queer" on you in toothpaste?
I do.
Do you know what it's like to have to get up in the middle of the night and try and wash your hair, face, clothes, sleeping bag and pillow so that know one will know the next day?
... I do.
Flash forward to college.
I flashed back as clear as day to all the times that I was followed back to my dorm room from the music building by the members of the local men's Christian service fraternity and the Ministerial Alliance.
"Faggot", "Queer", "Butt muncher" ...
The threatening, near punches that were pulled inches from my face. The shoves intended to rile me up. The bottles being thrown at me.
I remembered the prank calls, the ominous threats and heavy breathing on the other end of my dormitory phone, the menacing, anonymous letters that were passed to me, or slid under my door.
I remembered how helpless, and alone I felt, but how I didn't dare tell anyone. How could I? I was at a private Southern Baptist University, what was I going to say?
I was there to pray the gay away. I was convinced that when this happened to me it meant that I hadn't prayed hard enough. That I wasn't healed yet. That I needed to pray harder, sacrifice more, starve myself for another week of fasting, two weeks sometimes even. I needed to read the Bible, again, I needed to rededicate my life, again. I needed to pray harder, and more sincerely, because clearly my prayers weren't good enough, because they remained unanswered.
I believed that God had sent those boys to let me know that they could still tell by looking at me that I was gay, and that I was still broken. That my faith wasn't strong enough. That I hadn't prayed hard enough. That I didn't love God enough.
I remember being afraid every damn day of my life while I was in Texas. I remember feeling worthless, and silenced.
Fast forward two years.
I remembered an incident in the bathroom at the University of Oregon. I had hummed a few bars of "There's No Business Like Show Business" while I did my business and as I was washing my hands a young man approached me from behind. He grabbed the back of my neck, leaned into my ear and spit as he said ...
"Do you want to kill me because I know you're gay?" "Do you want to kill me so I don't spread your filthy secret?" "How does it make you feel to know that you are nothing?"
He slammed my head into the wall. I pushed him off and left. I was determined to ignore him. I left the bathroom and he followed me back into the computer lab where I worked yelling "THIS DUDE'S A FAGGOT!" at the top of his lungs.
I hid in my bosses office. We filed a police report with the campus police, but because he only asked if I wanted to kill him, and not threaten to actually kill me ... it didn't constitute as a hate crime.
Fast forward four years
I remembered the night walking home from the MAX at Christmas time. I had gotten off the MAX early so I could look at the tree in Pioneer Square and check out the display windows downtown, decked out with holiday decorations. That's where he noticed me.
"What are you looking at, you stupid fag?"
I pretended to not hear him and started to walk home. He followed me up the hill towards my apartment hurling slurs and obscenities at me. Coming as close as he would dare to provoke me when no one else was around, backing off and keeping his taunts low and quiet when we passed other people.
He finally lost interest, but not without a final parting shot.
"What's the matter princess? Don't you want to suck my dick? I thought all fags like you were just a bunch of cock suckers?"
The rocks he threw hit my back and whizzed by my ears.
Ask any gay man or woman and almost every single one of them will have a similar story to share. Usually more than one.
Ask any gay man or woman about the comments from people passing by made under their breath, but loud enough for us to hear when we are holding the hand of the person we love and just walking down the street.
"Ew" "Gross" "Fags" "Dykes" "Disgusting" ...
Ask us about the eye rolls, the sneers, the glares ...
Ask us about being afraid of being outed at work.
Ask us about the millions of little micro aggressions that we experience on a daily basis.
Ask us how it feels to be minding our own business only to be blindsided almost daily by unsolicited, shaming, passive aggressive religious and political bullshit lectures.
"Even though I don't agree with your lifestyle, I still love you, and I'll pray for you."
"I was taught to love the sinner and hate the sin, so even though I don't agree with your lifestyle choice, I want you to know that despite that I still love you as a person, and I'll be praying for you!"
Fuuuuuuuuuuck yooooooooooou.
Ask us about how we feel that a major party candidate has met with some of the most homophobic Evangelical Christian leaders in this country. Men and women who have called for the public execution of members of the LGBTQ community if we do not repent.
Ask us why the question "How is your relationship with your parents?" can be one of the most heartbreaking questions that we dread.
The unfortunate events in Orlando are not new, Nor are they an isolated incident. And while it makes me tremble with rage, I don't think that they will be the last.
It's that fear that they want. It's that fear that they count on to divide us. It's that fear that they want to use to control us.
To keep us in our place, To maintain their power. To silence us by making us afraid to speak, to gather, to stand up for ourselves.
To control us ...
I reject that fear. And so should you.
I choose love. And so should you.
And while it won't always be easy, and that it will probably get worse before it get's better, I do know that no matter how long it takes, I will fight like hell to make sure that one day the belief systems, ideologies, anti-intellectualism, and ignorance that contribute to this culture of hate and fear are completely eradicated ...
... or I will die trying. And so should you.
Hopefully just not at the whim of a crazed lunatic with unfettered access to military grade weapons ... but these days that's seeming more and more likely.