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Two Lives

By Faye

I'm afraid of going to my father's house this weekend. I'm afraid that I'll just say it. That I'll say "Dad I'm bisexual." I'll say it because I'm so tired of living two lives. Because I'm tired of lying, of being ashamed. Because I can't be oppressed anymore.

My father, you see, is the root of all evil. I love him to death, but it's true. He's a conservative Republican, a Catholic and a bigot. Not that there's anything wrong with the first two. He just uses them as tools for ignorance. Perhaps I should explain the bigotry. He's not racist or sexist but he sure hates "fags." He calls homosexuality a mental illness. He views us as twisted deviant creatures.

I'm just so tired of being discriminated against. Because a few old white men, fat from the booze and dinners at the Rainbow Room, have misinterpreted the words of God we can't marry, or adopt children and are forced to endure tons of harassment. That is if we have the courage to come out at all. If I have to endure one more gay joke or hear one more person refer to something as gay (ex: "That movie was so gay") I'm going to have a fit.

I'm tired of being afraid to be myself. I want to stand on top of a building, preferably a church, and scream at the sky until my voice is gone that I'm not heterosexual and it's okay. And what you can't see while you're reading this is that I'm crying. Because I'm scared to go to my father's house this weekend. I'm afraid I'll shatter his beliefs and alter forever our relationship. I'm crying because even after writing this I still don't want to make waves.

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Faye is a 17 year-old high school student from northern Illinois. She can be reached at faye279@yahoo.com


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