Until you’ve been nearly killed because of your sexuality, do not ever speak to me about homophobia. Until you lose your best friend to suicide because he got jumped as a byproduct of people bullying you, do not ever speak to me about homophobia.

Until you spend years hearing your own mother tell you how she thinks of you as less than an insect, do not speak to me about homophobia.

Until you’ve had your life repeatedly threatened and in jeopardy because people think that your sexuality determines your right to live, do not speak to me about homophobia.

Until you’ve been jumped in a mall in front of multiple people because you were holding hands with another boy, do not speak to me about homophobia.

Until you’ve been gaslighted for years, people telling you that all of your experiences are fake and you’re a liar, until you develop a mental condition that makes it hard for you to distinguish dreams and hallucinations from reality, do NOT speak to me about homophobia.

Until you cry yourself to sleep every night, wondering if you really should wake up the next day, do not speak to me about homophobia.

Until your own mother tells you to your face that she’ll murder you if you don’t kill yourself, do not speak to me about homophobia.

Until you’ve experienced any of this because of your sexuality, do not speak to me about homophobia. Do not call me “sensitive”, do not say that I’m “trippin”, because you simply have no right to.

Do not speak to me about homophobia. At all. Because I will not listen.