She had a secret. I watched the pain hit her. I looked on, as the internal hurt virtually seeped out of her clear blue eyes. I listened to the stabbing, unforgiving comments that tore at our young teenage hearts. I stayed silent, and that’s something I’ll forever regret.

My father despised it. The man who we had always looked up to as a hero was betraying us. Our father never bothered to ask our views, or listen when we ventured out of our warm, comfortable silence to voice our opinions. My father slashed at our tender young souls as he yelled and shouted at the television as a powerful politician supported it. In school we were always taught to be accepting of everyone. Whether they be blue, polka dotted, have extra limbs, or maybe none at all, in our eyes they were all the same. They were a person with an imagination, a brain, and a heart. Why hadn’t my father been taught the same way?

Her secret was a dark one in my family. Nobody but I knew, and I wasn’t about to disobey her trust. She was loving. She was caring. She was the golden example of perfection, and brought a sparkle to her daddy’s eye, as he bragged about her to co-workers. “She just made principles honor roll… She just sold her pig at the fair, and won best of show… She has made her mother and I so proud…” No one could have ever guessed that her unknown secret would ruin their relationship forever.

My sister is a lesbian. On her 18th birthday she decided to break the news to my parents. My mother was speechless, and looked at my father, with a look in her eyes that said, “Please honey, be gentle on her. For me.” With that look she left the room. I sat teetering on the edge of my wooden chair awaiting his response. For what seemed like ages he sat there, just looking at her. Then it hit him, and he released the inner beast I knew would be unleashed eventually.

It started out calmly. He looked at her and quietly said, “Please pack your things.” Then looking at me he said, “Sissy, call everyone and cancel the party. This queer is getting the hell out of my house.” My sister got up as though in a daze, and softly said “I love you Daddy.” She threw her clothes in a few garbage bags, called a friend, hugged our Mama, jumped in her car and left. My father yelled to no one in particular, that he couldn’t believe he had raised and loved one of “them.” He was disgusted and let us all know.

I felt torn. I loved my father and looked up to him so much. He was successful. He was popular. He was everything I thought a father should be. I loved my sister very much too. She was everything I could ever ask for in a sister. I stayed silent about the issue tearing our family apart, and never defended her, for sake of ease.

My sister is now happily partnered with her girlfriend of 5 years. She hasn’t spoken to my father since that day, but keeps in regular contact with the rest of the family. I hoped that one day we could all join up again and be the happy family we used to be. A big part is missing with my sister gone.

Same sex marriage has brought up problems in many families. Before my sister told my father, he loved her and would do anything for her. Does her own personal sexual preference determine what love she is worthy of? She is a human just like you and me, and just like all the other gays and lesbians out there. She is a person with an imagination, a brain, and a heart just like the rest of us. She stood up to my dad and paid for it dearly, but she is happy now. Why are we preventing people from being truly happy? My fathers’ attitude toward same sex marriage is replicated in the minds of many people. When your son or daughter breaks the news to you, I hope you’re a lot more accepting than my father ever was.