You’re going to hell. God hates people like you. There’s a special place in hell for people like you. How can you love one of those “things.”? Those are all things I’ve heard from people since I was fifteen. All of that just because I loved every human under the sun. In fact, that is what most people who are part of the LGBT community have heard. It is because of these comments that most of the people I have met are amazed by my triumph over the hate I have received. I am a pansexual. That means that I fall in love and feel a physical attraction towards people of all genders. I am also a Roman Catholic. This made coming out to my family very difficult, and when I did, it lifted a giant weight off of me. It was my family’s Christmas party of my sophomore year of high school and everyone was there. All of my cousins and aunts and uncles. I was always taught by them to love everyone and to accept everyone as they are. “God made no mistakes with people,” is a line that was taught to me since I was very little. It was a combination of that and the confidence that my family would always love that gave me the strength to come out to them. As I finished my confession to them after the gift opening and dinner, they were shocked and silent. My extend family was quick to recover and they said they would always love me. That I was still the same girl as before. My father and mother on the other hand. They were a bit less understanding. My father told me I would go to hell and that God was sad for me. That I still hadn’t been touched by his grace and glory. It really hurt me. This was the man that had raised me since I was a baby and then abandoned being my father when I was five. He had rarely been home for the past eleven years of my life and told me I was akin to nothing but sin. It cut me deep, but not as deep to what my mother did to me. I idolized my mother. She took care of two very crazy, rowdy kids and worked two jobs wh