Several weeks ago, I decided I was done. Done writing, done fighting, done vocalizing. Considering the volatility of my past posts, this may be somewhat surprising. However, an unexpected event caused me to abruptly reconsider.
On my personal Facebook page, I posted a brief status challenging the modern definition of a "traditional" marriage. Now, before I continue, I would like to point out that I have no problem with a biblical, God-centered marriage, nor do I have any problem with using scripture as a basis for upholding a loving marriage. What I was merely attempting to point out was the problem with defining marriage "based on the bible" as traditional. As I have pointed out before, using vague parameters as definitive restrictions doesn't hold up.
So there you have it. That was my point. I specifically attempted to stray from a scriptural debate (but sadly it turned to that), and tried to focus on an argument that the legal definition itself has changed over the centuries. My argument was that defending a certain type of union as "traditional" actually flew in the face of the definition, since the makeup and structure of marriage has slowly evolve. "Tradition" requires an element of stasis, which I alleged there was little.
As soon as I announced my stance, I was immediately attacked. I attempted to stay away from a fight with scripture, but the argument eventually was led there. I made my case, solidified with scriptural references, and thought that was it. I made clear that I wasn't challenging the notion of a Godly marriage. That was never my intention. My only intention was to challenge the definition of "tradition."
Instead, I encountered something that stopped me cold.
Both of my parents, whom I love, sent me a text telling me they were ashamed of me.
Ashamed. For standing up for reason, for challenging a modern misperception, they were ashamed.
They told me I had abandoned my faith. They accused me of discarding the religion they raised me with. They declared that I was foolish and corrupt. All because I challenged their definition of a word.
I was angry (I still am), and I was upset. I shut down my Facebook, and turned my back on equality. However, today I had a thought: is this something of what homosexuals experience on a daily basis? How many have been shunned and abandoned by their families? How many have been thrown out and threatened?
But please. I am no martyr for a cause. My brief suffering cannot compare to what individuals experience every day in the face of inequality. This is why I fight: not because I got my feelings hurt, but because there is a great injustice. I fight for equality. I fight for right. I'm not going to cower behind pseudonyms anymore. I will no longer go quietly into the night.
I'm not hiding anymore. Right here, right now, it's time to fight.
I'm not going to be ashamed of who I am, no matter how many are ashamed of me. That's their choice. This is mine. If you want to hate me, start from the beginning. If you want to hate me to my face, here's my email. I would give you my phone number if I knew you wouldn't bother me at work.
I'm tired of living in fear. I'm sick of hiding my work because I'm afraid of who may see it. This is who I am. If you don't like it, there's the door.
It's about time people started standing for what's right.