I'm different.
I'm not like you. I don't share your faith, your beliefs, your religion.
And I am perfectly okay with that.
I'm not against your praying for me. I'm not against your quoting the bible to me. I'm not even against your talking to me about your faith. I'm happy for you that you have something that you wholeheartedly believe in, that gives you comfort, that makes you happy. I experience the same feelings when I practice my life philosophy. I'll even go to your houses of worship with you, because I respect your right to practice your faith.
What I am against is your relentless pushing and shoving and insisting that I conform to your rules and to your standards. I am tolerant of your beliefs, and I ask that you be tolerant of mine. I don't put rules and conditions before you. You do it to me, though. I don't tell you that you cannot do this or cannot do that because it offends me. Again, you do it to me. Your intolerance towards me makes me, the person who is usually tolerant, want to dig my heels in. It makes me want to insist that you respect me and my beliefs, it makes me want to force you to accept me. I don't like intolerance, in any form, but your relentlessness makes me become that which I dislike.
It makes me want to scream.
I'm different, and I'm okay with that. You, apparently, are not.