17 days after the Pulse Nightclub shooting in Orlando, social media lit up with hashtags dedicated to Straight Pride.

Although I identify as a straight female, I feel utterly disgusted with the hashtag. Let me explain why that is.

We all know what it is like to feel like we have to wear a mask. We are different people out and about in the company of others versus in the privacy of our own bedrooms. We fake a smile, fake a laugh, fake concern, fake tears. We have rehearsed jokes and opening small-talk lines. Some of us cope with the everyday stress of social interaction through humor, while others become more and more isolated.

Yes, we all can empathize with what this feels like. Why else do we take a breath of relief when we are finally able to return to our comfort zones?

But imagine if you didn't have a comfort zone.

Imagine if one of the scariest places to be was alone with your fears, anxieties, thoughts, and desires.

Imagine being surrounded by people who, either knowingly or unknowingly, denounce you. Who, in their talk of agendas and destroying the sanctity of traditional marriage, lead you to believe that there is something wrong with you. You start to feel that there is not only something wrong, but something wicked about you. You live in the darkness of being afraid that you are evil, but you are too afraid to ask anyone for help. What would happen if they found out you have those thoughts? What would happen if they found out you have those feelings? Every day is an exhausting battle of pretending to be something other than who you are, and every night is an exhausting battle of trying not to give in to your overwhelming loneliness.

LGBT pride raises awareness about those who struggle to feel loved, accepted, wanted, and safe. LGBT pride commemorates the lives lost to murder or suicide. LGBT pride celebrates those in society who create safe and loving spaces for LGBT individuals. LGBT pride is light for those caught in the darkness of fear and hate.

What, then, is heterosexual pride?

Heterosexual pride is like white pride. It is a reaction to oppressed minorities taking back their identities and feeling empowered in spite of a larger society which says "don't exist." In feeling threatened by their courage, we whine about how WE are the oppressed because we don't get a White History Month to counteract Black History Month, or a Heterosexual Pride Month to counteract Pride Month.

In doing so, we rob these minorities of their space. We tell them they don't get to be proud of what sets them apart. They don't get to celebrate being what has caused others like them to be abused, tortured, or killed. They need to be quiet. They aren't allowed to be proud.

We who have never faced wide-scale systematic oppression, who have never had to fear being ostracized by our communities, who have never been told either subtly or blatantly to not exist as we are, in demanding that we get to celebrate our whiteness and our straightness, continue to rob these minorities of their courage and their celebration. We act as though we should get our white pride if the colored folks get their black pride. We get to celebrate straightness if the queer get to be confident in being unapologetically queer.

Our insistence on white pride and straight pride campaigns proves just how far we have yet to go to understand oppression and how it operates in everyday society. How it operates in the lives of individual persons who know a very real fear. Who have had to learn life by a different set of rules. Who are supposed to "pursue happiness" while having to pretend to be something they're not.

Next time we feel compelled to post about how proud we are to be straight, let's remember how naturally pride comes to straight lovers. We are naturally happy to be seen out in public with our significant other, while queer folks have to overcome fear and pretense in order to be seen out in public with theirs.

Instead of #HeterosexualPride, #HugAQueer and remember that #LoveIsLove and #EveryoneDeservesToFeelSafe.