Fear Part 4: Hate

This post comes to you courtesy of a variety of things/events/people, but the only one I can link to is this, which is very good, and while it's related, it's about something else, so go read it.


Now that you have read it (and if you haven't, go do so right now), I would like to begin by saying that I find it very difficult to comprehend the concept of having such a high level of hate (as some do) based on such a thing.
And comprehending it is something I've had to do recently, since I'm currently writing from the perspective of one such person. It hasn't been easy to write it well, but it has been fascinating to try.
So there's two of the things.


The third is that when my grandma and I were leaving to go see my sister's track meet this afternoon, I opened her car door to find a wasp.


Now, I am terrified of bees and all of their relatives. I don't know why, but I am.


However, my immediate vocal reaction was not one of fear. It was "I HATE BEES. I HATE THEM I HATE THEM I HATE THEM."


How did I make the jump from fear to hate? It doesn't make much sense. But it happened, and it happens to other people as well in worse contexts than insects.


So we profess to hate what we fear, and quite often (although not the case with my example) we fear what we do not understand. That's the basis for the writing project mentioned above: growing to understand. 


It's ironic, too. Because while my narrator is growing to understand that homosexuality isn't the most Evil Thing Ever, as I'm writing it, I'm growing to understand her (despite not actually agreeing, of course.)