Growing up gay in an anti-gay world
is not an easy task. I can’t pretend to know what all gay people experienced in
the 1980’s, 1990’s, and 2000’s. It’s no secret that the world is becoming more
and more accepting today, but things were not always that way. It is also no
secret that we still have a long ways to go. I can only share my experiences
growing up gay. I also know that, while I always knew I liked other boys (I
didn’t know what it was called until later), I also realize that this is not
the experience of all LGBT (Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender—and all others)
people. I can only share my experiences. I will warn you now, this is going to
be post one of two. I’ll be telling of my story up until college in this post
and will tell of my experiences after that later. As a therapist, I know it can
do good to tell one’s story. This is simply my story and my experiences that
brought me to where I am today. At the same time, it is a bit intimidating to
put your story out there for the world to see. I am only speaking for myself
and no one else.
For those of you who don’t know,
growing up knowing that I was gay was a huge challenge. I grew up in a very
conservative Christian home. I knew I was gay before I knew what it was called.
I knew I liked other boys before I knew it was that “homosexuality” that we
heard so much about in church. I don’t remember exactly when I made the
connection that “homosexuality”—which was an abomination and disgusting
according to the sermons I heard—was what I was experiencing. I know it was
around late elementary or early middle school. I knew I was different before
that, but I didn’t realize that I was one of those abominations until later. I
spent the next 20 years trying to not be one of those reprobates that I heard
so much about in church.
My earliest memories include an
awareness of which boys I had crushes on in my class. While the other kids were
playing house as a mommy and daddy, I felt a little different. At that point, I
still hadn’t made the connection that this was that “homosexuality” that was
preached against and declared an abomination in church. I was blissfully
unaware. Church used a lot of words I didn't understand as a child. I just
remember that “uncircumcised” Philistines and “homosexuality” were bad things.
I had no clue what they meant. I don’t remember exactly when I finally made the
connection. I do remember always having a sense about me that I was different.
I remember that sense of being different intensified when I realized that I was
one of those "homosexuals" condemned and held up as the worst example
of sin.
The worst of things hit around the
beginning of middle school. I became intensely more aware that I was different.
At the same time, other students also became more and more aware that I was different.
They all started having relationships with the opposite sex and I didn’t. All
of that contributed to a lot of intense bullying. I was even told to kill
myself at one point. Yes, another student actually told me that I was worth so
little that I should kill myself. I was told the world would be better off
without me. Kids can be quite cruel at that age—if only they realized. In addition,
around this time, I became aware that the “homosexuality” they talked about in
church and condemned as the worst kind of sin imaginable is what I was
experiencing. It was also at this point that my hormones kicked in. It was one
of the most confusing and upsetting times in my life.
I began to hate myself for having gay
thoughts. I couldn’t control who I was and who I liked. I tried so hard! If I
could have changed, I would have. It was during this time that I started having
thoughts of suicide. I began to think that I was an abomination and, since I
couldn't change, that was a sign that God had given up on me. To use the King
James Version language of the Bible “God had given me over to a reprobate mind”.
The problem was—I have been this way forever. I began to believe, since I had
been given over to a reprobate mind from my earliest memories, I must surely be
destined for hell. There was something wrong with me at my very core. God had
chosen since birth to give me over to a reprobate mind. The only logical
conclusion for me was that God hated me. It was not much of a leap to go from “God
has hated me from birth and gave me over to this since birth… so, I’d be better
off dead.”
I began to gain awareness that this
wasn’t just a phase. My sexuality was not changing. In fact, it was becoming
more intense as my hormones kicked in. I began to withdraw. I knew I wasn’t
safe at school with bullies. I wasn’t safe at church if someone found out. I
had no safe space. It became so intense, my family and doctors even threw
around the idea that I had Asperger’s Disorder (a more mild form of Autism)
since I appeared to be so shy and withdrawn. If only they knew that my social
worries had everything to do with bullying, hiding my sexuality, and feeling
like I could never fit in with anyone.
I remember night after night after
night during middle and high school that I would come home, hide under my desk,
and cry for hours. It was about this time that my rituals began. They became so
intense, that I was later diagnosed with OCD. But, I had to be perfect, had to
do things just right, had to punish myself for gay thoughts, had to think just
right and be just right or I was going to hell. There was no in between. There
was no other option. Countless nights, I cried and prayed for hours on end that
God would remove this evil from me. I remember lying on my floor in tears and
crying until there were no tears left. There were times I literally cried and
prayed until my eyes were bloodshot and my face was speckled with red blood
spots because of the intensity.
There were times I slept on my floor
to punish myself for having gay thoughts. There were times I fasted for days on
end only drinking water. I did multiple “Daniel fasts”. I prayed multiple times
daily that I would be cured. You know that feeling when you lose something
valuable? That panic? The heart racing, adrenaline pumping, muscle tension,
intense sense of dread, unrelenting anxiety? That’s how I felt every single
day. I was always in survival mode. I was always worried someone would find
out. I constantly feared school, home, church—to the point that adults and
medical providers noticed how withdrawn and shy I was and considered diagnosing
me with Asperger's Disorder. Really, I was living in a constant panic mode
afraid to let anyone in lest they find out my big secret.
All in all, I spent thousands upon
thousands of hours praying, fasting, doing everything I could hoping I would
find the right combination of spirituality that would cure me. That would make
God love me again. Nothing worked. Salvation became totally dependent on my
works. There was no faith left. It was all about doing the right things. Yet,
with all of my efforts, the thoughts never diminished. My sexuality never
changed. No matter how much I tried and how much I depended on God, this was
something that was not changing. I tried all I could. Yet, this wasn't
changing.
I began to become more and more
disenfranchised. I began to seek relief in rituals. I then decided to study
Biblical Studies, go to seminary, and hope that would change me. If my rituals
couldn't do it, surely a deeper understanding of the Bible would... and that's
where my story continues in my next post.
