Not "Normal"

It's a hard conversation to have with your loved ones, maybe one of the hardest.

You don't want to disappoint them, tell them that you'll never fit into their "normal" society, never have a "normal" partner, never have the picture of suburban bliss that they've been dreaming of, never be like the others.

So you sit them down, swallow hard, and maybe it goes something like this ...

"I'm different. I didn't want to admit it for a long time, but it's true. I can't hide it anymore. I'm not like the others. See (big sigh) I have this love, this yearning, this ache that won't go away no matter how much I ignore it. It comes back, again and again.

I try to be like the others, the normal ones. I really do.

I try so hard.

But I keep looking, and well, I started going to those places – the ones you don't want me going to, down those dark alleys, in the back neighborhoods. I can't stop.

I see the bodies and I can't stop looking. I want to look like them, be like them, touch them. They are me.

This is who I love.

I know you think it's wrong but I can't deny it anymore. I am who I am. And I have to live my life this way, even if it means without society's approval, and without your approval.

I love you guys but I am a ... CrossFitter."

Freedom always has a cost.