I grew up in the Baptist Church, Southern Baptist to be more
precise. The church was extended family. Both my Grandparents were active,
especially my Grandfather. What I love I had / have for this man. I was baptized
at 12. In the Baptist church, you get baptized when you say you are ready and I
was ready. I fondly remember a lot of youth activities and lots of warm loving
individuals who acted as our family village. Good times. The hell fire and
brimstone kind of bugged me out, but as an impressionable young person, you
kind of took the good with the bad. In short, you took it all or you were in
trouble.
Sometime around 7th grade I figured out I was
attracted to men. I wasn’t sure what I was to do with these men, but I had a
clear sense it involved being naked and horizontal. This of course was
something I kept to myself. I acted on
this attraction around 15 or 16, still keeping this very, very close in. No way
was I going to open up about this. No way, no way. Can you imagine the consequences?
Not happening! So I proceeded to keep this very close in. Somewhere I remember
thinking, well, I’ll just ignore god and hope he leaves me alone. I went on to
do what 20 something’s do. After years of hard work, hard party and hard play,
I ended up at the end of my rope around 1990. Thankfully, my god was there to
steer me in the direction of recovery. I began to develop a relationship with
my higher power again and today it’s the single most important relationship I
have. It’s been a rocking journey since
then. I learned to love myself, went back to school, bought my first house, and
improved my relationships with family and friends. Cool stuff. I am grateful. I’m
glad I survived. J
Last night it dawned on me that I went through HELL and
survived. Can you even imagine? Young kids growing up in whatever church lose their
ENTIRE support system if and when they decide to come out or realize they are
gay or transgender. Gone. Family, friends, everyone that matters drops them,
shuns them, tries to fix them. According to their religious teaching, their god
shuns them as well. Deep down inside they are screwed because they pretty much
know, there is no changing this about themselves.
I don’t cry much, not sure why. I distinctly remember the
night I divorced my church. It must have been around 2001. I was busting my
butt at University of Florida, putting in 14 hour days just for school. I was
at my apartment and I had the news on. The Southern Baptist Convention had
announced the “Hate the Sin, Love the Sinner” policy they had come up with. I
just looked to the sky and said, “I’m done.” I cried a little, it hurt. Actually
it didn’t just hurt; it was a knife into my very soul. So yeah, it hurt. My
higher power was right there with me, giving me permission. I felt they were
doing the best they knew how so there was some forgiveness in my heart but that
was it, finished. I knew I was not divorcing the people in the church. Some of
these people are still like family and always will be. But I was done with the
abuse. I was about 40 when this happened. I can’t imagine how an 18 year old
would survive that.
No comments:
Post a Comment