Memory that my hellbrain won’t let me forget:
One time I was sitting with a couple worldly friends, during my first week or two of college, it had already been established that I was a Christian, and one of them asked me if I believed that gay people would go to hell.
I tried to evade the question and I couldn’t, so finally I just said, “I can’t have this conversation.”
And then he said, “why not?”
He wouldn’t let it go. And I had no idea how to explain that my words were not free. I had no idea that he genuinely didn’t have the assumption that I was walking around as a full time professional representative of my parents/the church/God and had no control over that. I was mad that he would push me into a corner, and mad that he seemed to be judging me for things outside my control. I didn’t know I could leave. He didn’t know I couldn’t.
Anyway, I’m not straight. Or a Christian.
