I don’t understand the hatred

And yet I have lived with it most of my life.

Being resented each time I topped the class during my early years, which was later replaced by being threatened and harassed for my homosexuality. I had to develop a thick skin early on, to not let people get to me, to counter their hatred and ignorance with my superior knowledge and comfort in my own skin. There was a time, briefly, when I was ashamed of myself. That passed as I grew older and the supposed ‘weakness in me,’ my achilies heel became my biggest strength.

So when I am confronted with the anti-immigrant, anti-DREAM lobby, it doesn’t bother me. Being told to go back home doesn’t bother me. Being told I am a drain to someone else’s resources does not make me flinch or move a muscle. Maybe I am numb, maybe I am just immune to bullshit, or maybe my sense of entitlement and arrogance far outweighs anything anyone can say to me.

All I know is that in my heart, I did nothing wrong. In my day-to-day life, I do nothing wrong. All I am guilty of is love in defiance of a homophobic society and obedience to the people that gave birth to me. And if that is a crime, so be it.

Maybe the haters can explain why they are so insecure and uncomfortable in their own skin enough to invest time and energy into hating more than accepting. It certainly isn’t my problem. In due time, I don’t doubt that things will get better. But I still wonder the point of devoting so much energy to hatred. What do you have to gain?