The hardest barrier I have ever faced in my life was figuring out that I am a lesbian. Yeah, you heard right; I'm a lesbian. Not a very big surprise if you talk to the kids at my school. To them, it's just another reason to pick on me. But I faced this mountainous barrier with integrity, justice, courage, and determination. This fact came with a ton of barriers packed within, as if it in itself is not a barrier. The first of these barriers was the fact that telling my mother meant almost certain death, the constance of religion's haunting impression of hate which still lingers over the modern civilization, and the fact that I am in love with my best friend. Sound like a fictional story? A cautionary tale, perhaps? It isn't. This is my life, and my barrier.
The first barrier was one of the most important. The only way I got through this one was probably by employing the virtue of courage. I bravely masqueraded about, unafraid. I remembered my mother's threats, "If you got a girlfriend, I'd get you Baker-acted," and her ever-popular, "If you're gay I'll beat the heck out of you". As disquieting as these threats were, especially coming from my own mother, I continued in my merry homosexuality. All was well, as I hadn't confessed to her. I mean, don't get me wrong; an outright confession would have gotten me a one-way ticket to hell. But my phantasmagoria of perfect half-truths and white lies soon fell.
My facade slipped when my mother found my diary. She managed to pry open the lock. She read my confession and had a fit. She beat the heck out of me, but I held up. I didn't let her see me cry. I was honest with her, that I didn't care what she thought. Of course, my "honesty" came in the form of sarcastic apathy, but it was better than none. One of her reasons for hating me was religion.
Religion, the accepted insanity. Or so says my thinking. But this barrier is not religion itself, but what religion causes. A haunting impression left upon the modern peoples' minds from our early ancestors. A nasty stain called religion still rests upon our minds. I'm not putting down peoples' religions. I just can't accept a religion that won't accept me. Religion is what makes the people on the streets look at me in disgust when I wear my rainbow belt around town. In this small coastal town, dubbed "Wrinklewood" by local teens, religion reigns supreme. In the town of Rotonda, the only businesses are churches. So, almost everyone I pass glares at me. Some shoo their children away or cover their eyes. People have a funny way of making one feel like a pestilence waiting to give them "gay germs". I generally face this barrier using the virtues of integrity and justice. Even then, it's hard. It's even worse when you like someone, especially someone like her.
You heard right. I like someone. I'm omitting a name for a purpose, because I don't want her reputation ruined. I didn't mean that she is a bad person. I just mean that my mother pretty much hated her. I loved her, but I couldn't tell her, because I couldn't risk my mother hearing and harming her. This particular girl has been my friend for almost a whole year now. My family doesn't approve of her. And, worse, I'll never have a chance with her. She has succumbed to religion's slipping proxy. Besides, she's too good for me. She's perfect, I'm flawed. She is the reason I finally accepted, "Hey, I'm gay." To think, in 5th grade we were perfect enemies. And now, we're best friends, and I love her. Once again, fictional is how it sounds, real is how it reigns.
To conclude, I know that getting far in life will be a seemingly insurmountable obstacle. Though I may not be legally discriminated against, I still can be excluded from many things. Through all of the hardships, I will survive and persevere with the help of Jackie Robinson's nine virtues: courage, determination, teamwork, persistence, integrity, citizenship, justice, commitment, and excellence.