Sunday Mornings

The problem about living in a small town as a religious queer person is that Sunday mornings are emotionally draining.

I love God. I love worship. I hate wondering who would hate me if I came out. I hate hearing queer people compared to pedophiles and rapists.

The worst part is that I can no longer think, “They just don’t know better,” because I’ve been trying to educate everyone on the subject since I found out being queer was “not acceptable” 6+ years ago.

If you’re reading this as a Christian against homosexuality, I don’t agree with you, but please make loving your fellow brothers and sisters in Christ more important than condemning or reprimanding them.

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