I was down when writing this piece and started thinking about my life. I realised that I don't...
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Abuse wasn’t the only problem I faced as a child. My sexuality caused me to be extremely insecure about myself. I worried about what people would think, say and do when they found out. With the kind of relationship my father and I had, I worried about the things he would do to me once he found out. My dreams turned into nightmares and whatever was left of my happiness turned into sorrow. When you are a homosexual black teenager, it is viewed as a deplorable sin. You are destined for one place and one place only- HELL. Suicide was one of the best solutions to such problems and it did cross my mind countless times but I never had the courage to commit myself to doing it. I never told anyone about my problems because it would show weakness and I hated the thought of me being weak. I continued as if everything was normal. When I got a bloodshot eye or “black” eye, I got glasses to conceal the damage my father had done to my face. I hated being interrogated and thus I said nothing. High school came around and in no time rumours about my sexual orientation started flying around. It was pointless trying to hide it from everyone as conclusions had already been made, no matter how hard I tried to pretend to be Heterosexual. Love and relationships are exhausting and tough but the intensity is even greater in “gay” relationships. You have to be careful in everything you do. You cannot show affection in public nevermind in a private area like your home whereby your family will disown you instantly. I come from a Christian family where you have to abide by what the Bible says and nothing more. I was in constant conflict with myself before I came out to my mother although nothing in my life became better, everything started deteriorating and this is how it happened.