Yes, I ‘Chose’ This Life: A Light-hearted Truth Bomb on Being Gay

1 0

Sure, I’m gay by choice. Yes, in a world full of infinite opportunities and decisions—like whether to eat that extra slice of pizza or choose the red shirt over the blue—I decided, with all my heart, that I would take the path of least societal resistance and just… become gay. Because why not choose something that comes with its own unique set of social hurdles and awkward family conversations?

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s pretend, for one moment, that I walked up to a grand table of life choices, picked up a “Be Gay” badge, and thought, “Yes, this will be my path. I choose this!” If you can hold onto that absurd image, welcome to the wild world of gay-by-choice mythology.

Now, on this magical day of choosing, did I, perhaps, think about the joys of explaining myself at every family gathering? Did I imagine the thrill of awkward pauses, the judgement-laden silences, and the anticipation of “So, when will you meet a nice girl?” Surely, these delightful prospects enticed me. And did I think, “Wow, this path will be easy. I’m going to feel so universally accepted, supported, and celebrated”? Well, of course. Who wouldn’t want to face a few uphill battles against ignorance and societal judgment?

To those who believe in this “gay by choice” theory, I can only marvel at their imagination. It’s as if they think I sat down one day and thought, “Today’s the day I complicate my life a little. It’s been too simple. I want some people to look at me sideways and give unsolicited opinions about who I love. What an adventure!” The idea that anyone would willingly choose the added layers of misunderstanding and social expectation is so wildly funny that I sometimes have to laugh out loud. The absurdity lies in thinking that identity—something so deeply ingrained in our soul, in the very fabric of who we are—is like a hat we put on and off at will.

Yes, life throws challenges at everyone, but there’s a curious quality to the challenges faced by those of us who live outside the heteronormative box. We face not just the struggles of daily life but the added weight of explaining, defending, and sometimes even justifying our very existence. Every interaction becomes a delicate dance of deciding how much to share, how much to reveal, and whether this is the moment we need to correct someone’s misinformed notions. And for what? A “choice”? I laugh because it’s a tragedy wrapped in comedy, a reality that’s nearly Shakespearean in its irony.

The reality of being gay, for anyone who’s living it, is deeply complex and innately human. Imagine, for a moment, being told that you have “chosen” to face these obstacles as if they were casual, like the decision to wear red instead of blue. Imagine being told that your identity is a fad, something you can turn on and off. People who say these things have no inkling of the emotional journey it takes to reach a place of self-acceptance. They don’t realise the courage required to stand in one’s truth, especially in a world that, at times, would rather you didn’t.

For many, the road to self-acceptance is a winding one, filled with highs and lows, laughter and tears. It’s marked by small victories—those first moments of coming out, the first time you hold your partner’s hand in public, the first time you realise that you can love and be loved without shame or fear. These are not the results of a simple choice. They are milestones in a journey of self-discovery and self-acceptance. They are moments carved out of resilience and self-respect, woven into the fabric of who we are.

Yet, the power of humour lies in its ability to bridge gaps and soften hearts. Humour is an invitation to see things differently, to find common ground in laughter and absurdity. It’s how we tell the world, “Hey, this is my truth, and I’m sharing it with you, flaws and all.” Laughter becomes a shield, a way to turn the absurd into the manageable. When I laugh at the notion of “choosing” my sexuality, I am also laughing at the limitations of a world that has yet to catch up with the depths of human experience.

So, to those who think being gay is a “choice,” I say thank you. Thank you for the fuel that keeps this fire burning, for the inspiration behind each laugh, each sigh, each eye roll. Thank you for giving us something so ludicrous that we can’t help but chuckle, even when it stings. Because through that laughter, we find strength. Through that laughter, we hold up a mirror to society and ask, “Do you really believe this?” And maybe, just maybe, someone sees the reflection and realises how preposterous it all sounds.

And if you’re reading this, dear friend, and you’ve ever had someone question your truth, let my words be a testament to the power of your identity. You are not a choice. You are a unique, brilliant expression of humanity, as valid and as real as the earth beneath your feet. Every step you take in the light of your own truth sends out a ripple, a reminder to the world that we are not choices to be made or unmade, but beings to be celebrated, respected, and cherished.

Because, in the end, that’s all any of us want: to be seen, to be loved, and to be accepted just as we are. It’s not a choice. It’s not a whim. It’s not a passing fancy. It is the very essence of who we are. And if I could have chosen anything, I would still choose this—this love, this truth, this life—because it is mine, and I embrace it with all my heart. So here’s to laughter, to resilience, and to each one of us who walks the path of authenticity, not because it’s easy, but because it’s true.

And if you ever find yourself doubting, just remember: you’re not alone. We’re here, we’re laughing, and we’re making the world a little brighter, one absurd stereotype at a time.