Overcoming Adversity Through Prejudice Slurs

"You're nothing but a faggot."

"You don't count, you're a lesbian."

"You look like a dyke."

"You're a queer, you're a freak."

As many labels that have been forced upon me, I believe in being all the lesbian prejudice slurs, and there is just no better way of putting it. I faced this juvenile name-calling all throughout middle and high school, and I even receive it at home from my own mother. I won't lie, it's a difficult situation to accept, but I have found that nothing makes me prouder.

For the past five or six years, I had struggled with my sexuality. When the girl crushes started and the relationships with boys took a nose-dive straight into the ground, I did exactly what any teen would do when placed in an awkward situation--I panicked. I was afraid, mostly, of what my peers would think of me, how society would accept me, if my family would accept me at all. In my sophomore year of high school, I came out. My friends took it fairly well, saying that they had not seen me happier since I had come out, and that they were to be supportive no matter what. My mother, on the other hand, put me in counseling the same day I told her I had a girlfriend. It is here where the homosexual slurs began because they thought it was okay to say them since I was out; my own mother calls me a dyke even though she is in denial of my sexuality. It was awfully painful to hear such names from both my friends and my own mother, and when I would confront them about it, with the utmost sincerity in my voice, they responded with, "I'm just joking, get a sense of humor." Other than Prop 8 supporters, who finds picking on the homosexual funny?

As the prejudice slurs continued, I began to feel lost. I was so overwhelmed with the situation that surrounded me that it took a significant toll on me. My girlfriend at the time noticed my struggle, and told me that I shouldn't be so serious about the name-calling. She told me that real friends would never be that cruel, and that my mother was simply close-minded (along with a few other choice words). She explained to me that I couldn't always depend on those people to make me me, and to just accept that I am who I am; labels didn't matter as long I knew who I was, and as long as I was comfortable with that, I would be okay. And she ended up being right. I finally accepted that I was different, and that I was not alone; there are thousands if not millions of other LGBT teens who struggle with overcoming adversity, and I am more than happy to be apart of that community.

I am more than proud to be what people would consider as homosexual. It's not to say that I flaunt my sexuality; however, I want people to know that it's okay not to be of the heterosexual preference in a less-than-accepting conservative neighborhood. Yes, I like to read LGBT literature in public, I like to wear t-shirts supporting gay marriage, I like to debate about the importance of same-sex marriage and the acceptance of equal love. It may seem as if I'm just setting myself up for the verbal bullying, and maybe I am, but no matter what comes of it, I will always stand firm ground and believe in being a dyke, a lesbian, a queer, and a faggot.