Some fundamentalist-religious opponents of tolerance or civil rights for persons of same-gender affectional orientation say it's a choice we make. Rather, I say from experience, the choice at hand is whether to lie or be truthful to ourselves and to others. For me, the latter wins hands down. Trying to fool oneself, or lie to oneself, seems the height of being disingenuous as well as pointless.
Do left-handed persons "choose" to use their left hands? Can their left-handedness be "rectified"? My father's 1920's Catholic teachers were appalled by his left-handed orientation. They thought forcing him to use his right hand learning to write, like most everybody else (pity the left-handed nun), would overcome the inherent immorality of being among the 10% of humans who "prefer" their "sinister" left hand.
They say queers are promiscuous because we don't marry. But they forbid marriage to us lest we somehow denigrate the civil institution itself. Britteny Spear's momentary marriage was ok, it was an opposite-gender marriage.
Ninety percent of humans naturally "prefer" their right hands, so it isn't too difficult to imagine how with such a majority, left-handedness might have been regarded as "unnatural" (especially when reinforced in religious teachings). It's certainly not "normal." Of course today we can see how ridiculous it would be for a lefty to prefer to write or throw a baseball with his right, in some elaborate attempt to pass for normal, and gain the respect of his contemporaries. "What's the big deal?" would be an appropriate response. Will the day ever come when intelligent people everywhere see the 10% incidence of same-gender orientation among humans as the morally-neutral quality it is, the way left-handedness is seen today?
As for me personally: I remember being five years old and falling in "love" with Bob the comely 19-or-20-year-old waiter at a resort in New Hampshire, where the family was vacationing. No physical contact or anything, but I probably wouldn't shut up about him for a long time. "Bob the waiter" was a topic of good-natured comments within the family for years after that summer of 1951.
I went on a few "Dates" with girls in high school, but without any internal motivation whatsoever. Not so much to pretend to be "normal," but just because I wanted to go to a dance or to a party with the rest of my class. It wasn't until I was 22 that I had finally a "real" date. I certainly had to hold my orientation under wraps in 1950's and early 1960's school. In fact, based on vague "warnings" from my mother that some boys "turn out to be half girl," I recall once rudely rejecting an advance from a cherished friend shortly after pubescence. In strict Catholic high school, there would be NoooOOOOoooo thoughts of actually dating the guy I longed for. Such feelings could never be spoken, let alone acted upon. (Those who did were dealt with severely. Expelled, even from college. Recall Oscar Wilde's two years at hard labor.)
I survived it all ok, with only one lasting psychological effect, as far as I can tell. Keeping secret in high school and early college produced a firm and lasting attraction to college-age fit young men. Donald was the same age as I, and we lived a "married" lifestyle for a time (he died after we had been together 24 years), but my other escapades have always been with men in their twenties. My dear close friend and present housemate is 18 years my junior at 40.
I fell in love with New Hampshire, too, by the way.