I am just me. But, part of me is also being a lesbian. I don’t normally scream it out, but society makes that assumption. I wear men's clothes because they feel comfortable, but I am not trying to be a man. I enjoy being a woman. I am just me. But, at a time like this, being a lesbian seems all encompassing, because 49 beautiful souls were just killed for being like or an ally of people like me, and I am suddenly hyper-aware again that I am different. I am just me. But, part of me is the child that was teased and ostracized for being more like a boy. I am the teen that was scared and depressed because I knew I was different for liking girls instead of boys. I am the girl that has been called a dyke, a freak, a f'ing faggot…to just name a few. I am just me. But, part of me are the dirty looks and mean comments when I decide to hold my girlfriends hand in public, and I have to decide if it is worth the pain that those looks make me feel deep in my core. I am just me. But, part of me is a lesbian that has put my emergency contact as a female partner on a form, and watched as I hand it to someone who becomes less friendly. I am just me. But, part of me is the lesbian that was beaten up in a bar bathroom nine years ago by a drunk guy that thought I was checking out his girlfriend. I am the lesbian that listened to him say to me, "You want to be a man, take it like a man" as he punched and kicked me. I am the lesbian that didn't call the police because I didn't want to be known as a hate crime victim. I am the lesbian that drove home and showered and cried because as the blood circled down the drain, it was glaringly clear that I was different. I am just me. But, part of me is the lesbian who turned to alcohol to numb myself and almost died, because of the pain that I was different. I am just me. But, part of me is the lesbian that got sober and started to deal with the fact that I am different and began to embrace it. I am the lesbian that started being braver by holding my girlfriends hand and looking proudly ahead, ignoring the hate. I am the lesbian that can now be open and laugh with my co-workers about the fact that I am different. I am just me. But, part of me is all of the other LGBT people that have walked the path before me and are on this path now. Part of me is each and every one of those 49 people that were killed. I am just me. And, I am still here able to be me. They are not, because they were out being themselves. So, forgive me if I post a lot of articles with rainbow flags talking about the shooting victims being gay or gay allies. Forgive me if I get angry when I hear it should not be a part of the story that it was an LBGT nightclub. I am just me. But, I am them, and they were a part of me. And, I am now their breath, and their voice. And, in their memory, I am going to keep being us.