Can I be Gay?
From MarcI couldn't stop shaking. I had never told anyone anything like that before. The waiter returned with our tea…Couldn't he see we were having an intensely private conversation? Irene, looked intently across the table through the cloud of steam that was rising out of the ignored cup of tea in front of her. She said with both a hint of conviction and hesitancy, "I don't think God wants you to be that way."
God didn't want me to be that way? What did Irene know about what it was like to be gay? What did she know about living under the curse of something the Bible clearly indicated was wrong? What did she know about being ashamed of one's own sexuality to the point of needing to shut it down? I was shocked by her unexpected boldness. I was confused and angry. Wasn't this the same woman that had just finished giving me a comforting hug? I railed against her. Despite my response, she continued on. "Can I tell Keith about this?"
What in the world was she thinking? This was a sacred curse that I was carrying and she wanted to invite a whole party of people into it! Exasperated, I asked Irene a heated "why?"
"Don't you know?", she responded, "Keith has struggled with the same thing".
Keith had been peripheral in my life. He was the lead staff-worker for the Christian Fellowship of which I was an equally peripheral member. Right before the Christmas of 1995 Keith quickly took a place a high importance in my life. Over coffee, we talked about homosexuality, and how much I hated myself for struggling with it. He told me his story. It was really encouraging…I couldn't get enough of it! Married (happily, at that) and by all accounts free of this thing that had been haunting me ever since puberty. He seemed to have more to tell me, but he did something surprising. He stopped short.
"You know what I think. Nonetheless, it's important that you find out what God thinks about healing this in you. I have more material that will be helpful to you, but I won't give it to you until you get answer from God."
At the time I didn't grasp the wisdom of these words. Now that I had hope I couldn't imagine not trying to get free of homosexuality for the rest of my life; no matter what the cost! But I took Keith's advice to heart and spent the time between the semesters of my junior year trying to hear God's take on the matter. So far as I could tell, God was willing to heal me. What's more, I felt he told me he didn't have to, but that he wanted to. I arrived back at college in January, equipped with this conviction, a renewed hope, and ready to start a long road of healing.
I was dogged in my pursuit of God and the freedom he offered in this area of my life. Confessions, vulerability, prayer, even testimonies. I wanted so much to be free of this (inconvenient at best) attraction to men. A couple years later I enrolled in a local Living Waters group to further address this issue in which I had seen so much of God's power. I expect God to strike the killing blow to this issue in that semester of Living Waters. In a surprise move to me, Jesus began to lift me out from underneath years and years of self-hatred.
As He lifted off the shame I held for who I was and for my sexuality, I began to experience a measure of freedom that was heretofore unknown to me. I started dressing differently, I started to become more confident and courageous both at work and in my life at large. I started cutting my hair differently and even bleaching it because it was "fashionable". Someone told me "I was really hot and didn't even know it".
In January of 2001, I ended a relationship with a woman I had been dating for about nine months. I thought we'd get married…we didn't. It was like the safety scaffolding was taken off my life. At 25, I quit my job, I took an impromptu trip to Italy, I tried to become a model, I signed up for the AIDS ride and contemplated leaving my church and to pursue some adventure in Colorado. These are things that my self-hatred and fear would have previously kept me from doing. In one way, this was the good fruit of the outworking of healing God did in my life through Living Waters..
However, in all that it was good, the Enemy started to get a foothold. I think it all began with a prayer of blessing that was prayed over me at the end of one Living Waters session. "God, I thank you for Marc and that he is making such good choices at such a young age. Marc, the world would have rolled out the red carpet for you, but you've chosen this life instead"
Today, I see that prayer as the encouragement and testimony to God that it is. Back when it was prayed, it started to raise some questions in me. The world would have accepted me? I spent my whole life trying to avoid the scorn of the world and now I'm hearing that I would have had some power in it? Not in a dating relationship and free of the constraints of being on the Living Waters team I started to wonder if I had acted too quickly regarding this homosexuality thing.
The crisis continued to mount when Daniel, a roommate of mine and a godly man in his own right announced that he was gay and that God wanted him to stay that way. He started dating men and bringing them to the house. He knew where I stood on the issue, though my resolve was weakening. I was watching his life intently, wondering and trying to gauge whether he was better off than I. Some of his life seemed better, but some of it seemed much worse. I can remember one poignant example when we were watching a Saturday Night Live skit that was lampooning gays. This kind of hatred was something that I, in my twilight state of sexuality, could always sidestep. For Daniel, there was no sidestepping the malice and mocking, it was directed right at him.
I can remember meeting with Daniel over a beer and trying to hash out what we thought about the issue. I think God was there, because I said something that I don't think I could have come up with myself. "I think Daniel, it comes down to a question of investment. I used to think that the choice you made was the easy option, the non-courageous option, but having watched you, I know that that is just not true. The truth is both of us are investing in a way of life; it costs both of us. The real question is whether both investments will pay off equally well, and I'm afraid that you might wind up at a loss."
This perhaps prophetic advice was put to the test when I met a distant acquaintance for lunch. This man also struggled with homosexuality and was in a pretty serious dating relationship and trying to decide whether to get engaged to the woman he was dating. He knew of my breakup with my girlfriend earlier that year and wanted to find out why.
It quickly became apparent that for me at least, the meeting was about something else. Meeting for lunch? I barely knew the guy! As we shared our stories, ridiculously deep and personal things for how little I knew him, I felt a connection to this guy; With our common past, he understood me in a way that not many others could. What's more, I noticed a strong and undeniable physical attraction to him. Despite the huge cost I knew it would be, I came frightfully close to trying to make an advance on him. I almost invested in the very thing I told Daniel he should not.
How did I get to that point? I always thought my conviction to eradicate homosexuality in my life was one that was based on the principle that it is wrong. However, at 25 what played an unexpectedly larger part in my not jumping into the lifestyle wasn't the sense that it was wrong but rather all the shame I felt about having same sex attraction. Prior to my enrollment in Living Waters, I had equated getting rid of that attraction with feeling better about myself. When God removed the self-hatred first, this lead me to an interesting place.
For me, investing in the gay lifestyle would have paid off in three ways. First, it would allow me to skip the work of living in the tension of depending on Jesus to navigate my sexuality. Second, it would allow me to use my looks (by way of seduction) to gain power in the gay lifestyle. This would, in effect, allow me to shortcut God's redemption of all the body issues I dealt with as a kid my trying to get others to "worship" me for my body. Third, I would finally know what it would feel like to be with a man in that way and would be an attempt to fill that void of male acceptance and approval that I had always felt had been lacking in my life.
Looking back, I see how those three factors played such a key role in my over-curiosity in the effects of Daniel's choice and in bringing me to the brink of throwing away a lot of what God had been doing in my life.
The night after I met with that guy for lunch (who I, by the way, haven't seen since), I went out for a walk to pray, as I was apt to do in those days. I can remember asking God if it was really okay for Daniel to be pursing homosexuality. What I felt I in response was reminiscent of the end of John's gospel "what is it to you if allow Daniel to pursue homosexuality? What have I told you? (you must follow me)"
In that instant, all the wisdom of Keith's advice to me snapped into focus. When my self-hatred and ethical arguments receded into the background all that was left was God's clear word to me six years prior (which had been confirmed many times in those six years). If my faith was real, God had now made it clear what the better "investment" was for me in terms of resolving all this same sex attraction (and the roots underneath); going into the lifestyle simply was not an option for me.
I wept. Right in the middle of a park in Allston I wept. I can remember the pain of the moment, and it wasn't the noble pain I expected. It was a pain not unlike a child's realizing his parent would not let him have the toy he desperately wanted. I think I knew all the ways that making the choice for homosexuality would have been sheer poison for me. And though I knew clearly in that moment that it would destroy me, yet I cried and sobbed in a way to rival the loss of a close friend. Perhaps, in a way, grief was indeed in the company of death that night.
Six months after that point, I was engaged to be married to my now wife of a little over a year. Our wedding day was one of the most amazing days of my life. The Holy Spirit was present there, making the moments all the more sweet by the fruit of my obedience and much more God's grace which had made such obedience possible. That is not the end of the story; there have been (and will presumably still be) more obstacles thrown our way, but now I'm clearer in my resolve that what God has said to me is to my benefit and not to my destruction.
My Path to Lesbianism
It was hatred of women that drove me there, and Christ in community that led me out.by Diane Mattingly | posted 02/17/2005 09:00 a.m.
Here's an old family recipe I've recently uncovered. Take two broken people and let them have children. Once the children are born, stir in the unmet needs and expectations of the parents while blending in the hurts and disappointments of their pasts. Pour the batter into a deep baking dish and place in the oven, which is fueled by the ups and downs of the household and of life. Recipe yields enough dysfunction to serve a family of four, or more.
For me, the dysfunctional yield of that recipe was a search for a home and a name, a place where I could feel like I belonged. That search led me down many paths, including the path of lesbianism. But I found a fork in the road and took it. What I discovered was a way of hope and healing that I never thought possible. My healing has come first by making a decision to give my life, including my sexual orientation, over to God; and second, by beginning to deal with the wounds that left me with an intense desire to connect with a woman. One area I've had to come to terms with is misogyny. The hatred or devaluation of women shows through sexual, physical, emotional, verbal, or spiritual abuse, pornography, and the ideology that women are less than men.
I grew up in a home where this was the case: both my mother and father favored my brother. He excelled in athletics and was an above-average student. It is said that children are the best recorders, but the worst interpreters, of information. I interpreted this favoritism to mean that my brother-and not me-was the one who was supposed to succeed. As I watched my parents pour their hopes and dreams into him, I felt like I was on the sidelines. I could either cheer him on or sit back and watch. I chose to cheer.
Cheering for him meant that I gave up on myself. I developed patterns of not following through with commitments and giving up on anything that was difficult. I was never taught how to persevere, how to handle pressure, or how to set and achieve a goal. I didn't learn how to compete, how to win, or even how to lose. I lived in a vacuum I created with self-destructive behavior that included drugs, alcohol, and self-mutilation, and I have battled the effects of depression for many years. Over time, misogyny eats away at the core of women's souls and leaves them feeling unprotected, ashamed, vulnerable, and frightened. That's how it left me.
I remember a time when, as adults, my brother and I, living on opposite ends of the country, both bought computers. As I was telling my father about my computer, we soon found ourselves in an argument as he insisted that my computer wasn't as good as my brother's. It was ludicrous: The two computers had the same amount of memory, same speed, same software applications, same everything. I could only conclude that mine was inferior just because it was mine.
Then there were the college degrees. My father said to me one day that my master's degree wasn't as good as my brother's master's degree because his was an MBA and mine was just an MA. He didn't say that his was more useful in the marketplace or that it would yield more money, but that mine was just not as good.
Cut Off And Alone
Little girls need a strong masculine presence as a covering and as a protection, but also to call us out to take risks and to make us feel comfortable in our girlishness so that growing into a woman won't feel unnatural, uncomfortable, awkward, or unsafe. Our fathers are the ones who are supposed to do this for us. Mine didn't.
As I watched and listened to my mother and father interact and comment on my friends, my brother's friends, their friends, and even movie stars, I, too, began to form a low opinion of women. The messages I received from my father were that women are weak, stupid, supposed to look sexy, and that they are to serve men. One of his favorite sayings was that my mother couldn't find her way out of a wet paper bag. Because she didn't learn to drive until she had children, she read maps poorly and wasn't as good at finding her way as my father was.
Misogyny isn't always meted out by men. The messages I received from my mother were that women are only as good as they look, and they are manipulative and unpredictable. She once told me that the reason I didn't have a man was because I was too independent. She said men don't like independent women, and that I should learn how to play coy so I wouldn't overpower men. If our mothers are full of self-hatred or feel inferior to other women, are not comfortable with their own femininity, or "bend into" men, they can pass down their brokenness to us, their daughters.
Mary Beth Patton, a psychologist, counselor, and researcher of same-sex attraction who is on the board of Portland Fellowship, an Exodus International-affiliated ministry, so described what happens to women like me: "Women who deal with same-sex attraction often possess a history of dis-identification with their mothers, and therefore with their femininity. This leads to a longing for connection with the feminine that becomes sexualized in adolescence."
Girls disconnected from their mothers often begin to hate their emotions and all the other things that make them women. I don't necessarily mean those things that make us look feminine on the outside, but those internal characteristics that actually make us feminine beings. For example, I was always comfortable wearing dresses, getting my nails done, and wearing lots of jewelry, so I didn't see those as contemptible qualities in my mother. But when I saw her let herself be a victim of my father's verbal assaults, I vowed that I would never be like my mother. I'd never be under the control of a man, never be dependent on a man, never be weak or admit my vulnerability. Psychologists call such feelings of children toward their parents "defensive detachment." In not allowing my mother to influence me, I walled myself off, not just from anything negative she could have instilled in me, but also from anything good she could have imparted to me as a woman.
Of course, misogyny doesn't always lead to lesbianism. In my case it fostered same-sex attraction because it cut me off from men, from women, from God, and even from myself. I hated men. I hated women. I hated myself for being a woman. I had no more value for women than any women-hating man does, and yet no one was more surprised to discover that I, too, was a misogynist. And I've had to confess that sin to God. My detachment from men and women left me walled off from being able to receive anything good from either men or women.
The first time I noticed I was attracted to women was when I was in the sixth grade, but I didn't act on any of those feelings until well after I completed high school. I did have a number of boyfriends growing up, and I hate to admit that I was very promiscuous. With each relationship, I hoped that he would be "the one." I would have done almost anything to feel accepted, but each relationship ended either with my boyfriend cheating on me or with him telling me in one way or another that he wanted to move on. Each ending left me feeling less and less like I was able to please a man.
My first encounter with a woman gave me the most intense sense of belonging and connection I have ever felt. It is hard to explain just how enveloped I felt during that first encounter. I felt a sense of relief I had never felt before. I felt like I had finally found that sense of home within my soul I had been missing.
What I really had fallen into was an emotionally dependent relationship that had nothing at all to do with love. I was trying to fill my need for connection on my own terms. If love means honoring people, then is it loving to have them participate in what the Bible says alienates them from God? I realized that if I truly loved a woman, I could not sleep with her.
Aborted Femininity
Perhaps one of the most significant manifestations of misogyny I know of came at my own hands. I've already said that I had been promiscuous with men. One of those relationships led to an unplanned pregnancy. I was dating a guy, and we had been together for a few months and I thought we were getting along fairly well. That is, until I got pregnant. When I told him about it, he told me to do whatever I wanted, keep it or have an abortion, and then walked out. I never saw him or talked with him again. When I telephoned him, he hung up on me, and when I stopped by his house, he didn't come to the door. I ended that pregnancy with an abortion.
I honestly don't know what the commitment level is supposed to look like in a situation like that, but I'm quite sure that it shouldn't have been abandonment. Abortion is one of the ways we, as women, assault our femininity, and it is a sign that says, loud and clear, that our society is not meeting the needs of women.
I wish I could say that I've been able to free myself from the effects of misogyny with my determined self-effort, but quite the opposite is true. The most I could ever hope to do in my own strength was to keep myself walled off from further hurt. Left to my own efforts, I would have had to settle for existing instead of living. And I wanted to live.
I've had to surrender those past hurts to God. I've had to confess my weakness, self-hatred, and my hatred of women. I've had to choose to keep myself present to the larger body of Christ and be willing to enter into transparent relationships with people. Healing comes in community and by being in fellowship with other believers. Isolation is one of the greatest enemies of the soul. We kid ourselves into believing that we can meet our own needs, but the truth is, we don't have that much power. My healing continues, but the healing that's already occurred has come through inner-healing prayer, professional Christian counseling, and participation in a program called Living Waters, by Desert Stream Ministries
While divulging some of my past makes me feel like I've just been on the Jerry Springer show, I know there are women reading this who want to believe that they are not hopeless cases or damaged goods. There are women who want to find another path than lesbianism and emotionally harmful relationships. To them, I say there is hope.
Diane Mattingly works for a major U.S. daily newspaper. As a volunteer with Regeneration of Northern Virginia and leader of a small group for the Living Waters program, she assists people coming out of homosexuality.
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