A letter to a friend that I'm too afraid to send.

I don't understand you.
I don't understand why I am naturally supposed to respect you. Why I naturally must accept your beliefs, your opinions and your rants but I don't naturally deserve the same respect in return. I don't understand why my beliefs and my opinions are singled out because they happen to be so different from yours. I don't understand why you pledge to be open-minded and considerate, but display this open animosity and disrespect for the ideals and faith that are innately important to me. I don't understand why my feelings are not important. I don't understand why you call me your friend but don't treat me as such, or only treat me like a friend at your own convenience. I don't understand your definition of friendship.

Can you honestly make me understand? Can you show me why you behave this way?

You say I'm not that conservative, and yet you laugh at the positions that I hold. You say you believe in diversity, and yet you openly mock my faith, assuming that I can laugh it off too, that I can be flexible, that I can forgive and forget, that I have this wonderful sense of humor. You have immediately, from the very beginning, stereotyped me as the quiet, passive, simple, religious prude. Did you do this accidentally? Will you tell me that I'm interpreting all of this completely wrong? Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you don't hate everything I hold as important? That I shun away from sexuality because I'm a conservative Catholic prude? Oh, alright, so you never said that, perhaps never purposely implied it. Then why do you immediately interpret my expression as one of disgust, displeasure, hatred and fear? Why do you label me this way just because I believe in respecting the human body (because it is beautiful) because I believe in the dignity of a person's sexuality? Am I wrong?

Have you ever thought, just once, that perhaps the reason I keep my beliefs and my faith so quiet and so close is because they are entirely inherent to who I am and how I see myself that I can't bear to expose them to people like you, who instead of offering constructive criticism, selfishly and cruelly pull them apart bit by bit for your own pleasure (pleasure in offending people) and amusement? You're pulling me apart, and it hurts. And I hide it because I am a coward and afraid to lose friends. But are you really my friend if you can't see that what you say, as innocent and insignificant as it sounds to you, is hurting me? I'm afraid that I'm not as flexible as you want me to be. I can't let things go so easily, shrug them off as though they didn't stick in my skin like little needles.
You sit there and you lament about humanity: it's so twisted, so cruel, so corrupt. Have you never thought how much you're contributing? I don't pretend to say they effect the whole of humanity; but they effect individuals, and right now they are effecting your friend.
So I invite you to walk--if not a mile, at least a couple of steps--in my shoes. I would do it for you. Go ahead and disagree with me as I do with you; I accept that, I invite it, I expect it. Just remember that what you say has an impact, no matter how trivial you find it.