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I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.

I am the Prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.

I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight, throughout the painful, tear-filled nights.

We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.

I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.

I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I ever had. I wish they could adopt me.

I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived an attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.

I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just three weeks before graduating high school, it was just too much to bear.

We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one bedroom for two men.

I am the person who never knows which bathroom to use to avoid getting the management called on me.

I am the mother who is not even allowed to visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.

I am the Domestic violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.

I am the domestic violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly distant and cold when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.

I am the father who never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.

I am the home economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym, until someone told me that only lesbians do that.

I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized that I was transsexual.

I am the person who feels guilty because I think that I could be a much better person if I didnt always have to deal with society hating me.

I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I dont believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.

I am the boy who killed himself after my boyfriend died in an attack.

I am the boy who faked sick because I was afraid to see what was written on my locker today.

I am the boy who helped viciously attack my gay friend, because I didn't want my other friends to know that I was seeing him.

I am the boy who is afraid to look at another boy in his eyes, because of what he might think.

I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, Love.