How I Survived the Ex-gay Movement

Dewey from Washington

My name is Dewey, and I'm a member of two different minority groups. I have a physical limitation (I use a wheelchair) and I'm also a gay man. Unlike many people I have known, I have never, ever hated myself for being gay.

I discovered I was gay in the 7th grade (thank you Richard Gere!) and a lot of things I had been wondering about myself suddenly made perfect sense. I had a lot of feelings without knowing what "gay/homosexual" was. Once I discovered my sexual orientation, it was like, "Oh, this is what it is!" "It has a name." And it was good to me.

I never thought that being gay was wrong or sinful, certainly not evil. Of course, I knew that would not be "good" to other people (namely my parents), certain aspects of society, (the church I was raised in), etc. Of course, I couldn't discard my parents, but (unlike Peterson) I promptly discarded my church upbringing and teaching. Everything I saw in church made me feel severly depressed, demoralized, and dehumanized, anyway.

I still keep some things private and secret. I'm not an open book. As for my parents and family, well, that's a different, difficult story (a little patience, a little at a time, you know?) for another time. The important thing is: I never, ever hated myself for being gay. It's an aspect of who I am. I never felt I should, or needed to, change or fix myself in any way. It's just the way it is-- an aspect of who I am.

My best friend is heterosexual. Early in our "Getting To Know You" phase, he was visiting my apartment. I have several posters of famous actresses hanging up. My friend asked me, "Are you absolutely sure you're gay?"

I promptly responded, "I assure you I'm gay all the way, and I refuse to change myself to please you or anybody else!" He replied, "Good! I don't want you to!" He's the best friend anybody could have.

My wish for you is that you have at least one person in your life who loves you unconditionally,; and (this is much more difficult) that you love yourself unconditionally as well; EXACTLY THE WAY YOU ARE... CELEBRATE!

Stacey from San Francisco, CA

I am a GWM, 32, raised Mormon all of my life. Wow, what a combination gay and Mormon. It would be enough to give me a hang over if I actually drank.

They both had their positives and negatives but somehow I never could get them to balance. My religion gave me a strong belief in God and a spiritual framework to start my journeys though life with. It gave me a sense of direction and purpose. It helped me develop and beginning relationship with God.

Being gay gave me an inward sense of being whole and alive. It gave me quiet moments of reality and an inward sense of being. It gave me strong emotions that forced me to stand up and express my inward belief that I found nothing incorrect or wrong about a relationship between two persons of the same gender.

I had two worlds each strong in purpose and conviction and impossible to balance. I spent a lot of my life looking for a bridge between the two worlds I loved so much but never really finding it.

Until one day I found it. I realized that they were the perfect balance I needed. Two worlds at such opposite ends of the spectrum that reconciliation was impossible. I realized that I would have to take the priceless lessons each of them had imparted to me and forge ahead learning my own truth. Through prayer, self exploration, experiences, life lesson, learning from the sprit and promptings I would have to find a testimony and conviction of my own truth, whatever that was. I would have to work out my path home with my Heavenly Father.

Being Gay and Mormon gave me the opportunity to work out my relationship with my Savior. I am so thankful for that blessing.

I don’t really consider myself Mormon anymore than I consider myself Gay. They are both live in parts of me because of the valuable lessons I learned. Most of all I consider myself a Child of God on his pathway home to his Savior.

I don’t pretend to have any wise words to impart to anyone. Everyone’s journeys are their own. I only know for myself what my own truth and personal journey is and I am happy to have it. I thank God for his truth, sacrifice, and the fact it gives me the opportunity to work out my own with him.

I guess I have had a lot to say. Maybe that is because I have not shared it with anyone in a long time since my journey has been my own. Maybe it is just because I finally have something to say. Either way, Thank You.

Sandy from North Carolina

I was born in the mid nineteen fifties, so my story is very common for gays and lesbians of my generation. My father was Jewish and my mother was Catholic. They believed in God, but were not religious zealots.

From my earliest childhood memory, I knew I was different. I didn’t have a label for it until I reached grade school. The playground was always a terrifying place for me, because I feared that someone would find out that I was a “homo”. Wanting the acceptance of my parents and peers, I did my best to fit in. While other boys were athletic, I was artistic. It didn’t take long for the other kids to notice that I was different, so it wasn’t long before I was taunted, teased and tortured. In middle school I felt alone, desperate and afraid.

My art talent caught the attention of the art teacher and soon we were sexually involved. I dated girls all through school, trying to find my straight self. In my late teens I became involved with a Christian youth group, and soon after gave my life to Christ. We were taught that God would change us, and I began daily prayers to be straight. At twenty I fell in love, and married a wonderful Christian girl. After twenty five years of marriage and three Children, I found myself still struggling with being gay. I had managed to keep my marital vows of fidelity, but continued to hunger for the love of a man.

Out of the blue I met a young Christian man who was struggling with the same issues and fell in love. Determined not to ruin my life or his I ended things before they even began. I soon realized that I could not pretend to be straight any longer and sought counseling. Within weeks I found the courage to tell my wife, and to my surprise she took the news well. She was convinced that God would heal me, and soon she was researching conversion organizations. Having confronted the sexual orientation issues at last, I slowly began to find comfort with myself, and decided to tell my three daughters. To my surprise, all of the girls were supportive, but expressed concern for the future of our family.

In my heart I knew that divorce was imminent, but agreed to seek marital counseling. Marriage counseling helped me realize that I could never be free to be myself as long as I continued to play it straight. With new found courage I decided to seek a divorce and live openly as a gay man. I called and told my mother I was gay, and she claimed that she had always known. My boss and coworkers took the news well, and surrounded with me support. While going through the separation and divorce process, I met a wonderful man. With all that was going on in my life, the last thing I thought I needed was to get involved with someone. I tried my best to fight it, as did he, but eventually we came together.

We have lived together now for three years, and life just grows sweeter each day. My three girls and his son have forged a family, and we have found the support of a wonderful progressive Christian church. People often ask me why it took so long to come out. I really don’t know the answer, but I think what held me back was fear of rejection and fear of hurting my family. Gay pride month means a lot to me because I never thought I could live openly as a gay man and be proud of being gay.

Ruth Ann (rah1-at-soton.ac.uk)
United Kingdom

My story is probably a little different, in that I'm not gay. Nevertheless, I grew up in a conservative Christian church in Northern Ireland. Being Catholic was bad enough, being gay was quite simply not mentioned!!

I went to university, got involved in some student welfare work and discovered that around a third of those involved were gay. So it seemed that many of my closest friends at uni (and now) were (and are) gay.

Being a good Christian girl as I was, I asked my church leaders for advice. Thankfully they were very supportive of my involvement in a group were so many people were gay (which, having since been around other Christian groups, may well be an unusually tolerant attitude), and weren't unduly concerned by my meanderings into gay bars and such like. Nonetheless, I think they believed that my "involvement in the gay community" was some kind of outreach activity, whereupon I might help save a few people from such a terrible lifestyle.

They kindly offered me a plethora of literature recommended by groups such as True Freedom Trust and Exodus International. I lapped it all up, believing that perhaps homosexuality was some kind of blip in sexual development that could be healed - thereby avoiding the difficult question - what if it didn't work, and what if this isn't true, and what if people who are gay are gay to stay!

However, one of my best friends who is also a Christian came out as gay. I recommended True Freedom Trust, but she was adamant (thank God) that she wasn't going near them. When it came to a close friend, I found the story wasn't quite so simple as that.

Unfortunately, I'm also a psychology student, so I was forced to engage more seriously with issues than most church advocates of groups like True Freedom Trust. Both the American Psychological Association and British Psychological Association clearly state that there is no reason to believe that homosexual orientation is an illness, and indeed, that attempting to change one's orientation typically results in damage, depression and suicidality. Upon honest reading, I discovered that homosexuals were no more likely to have been abused as children, come from a disrupted family background as heterosexuals, and to top it all of, homosexuality does seem to have quite a large genetic/biological component.

Still wanting to be a good Christian, I turned to the Bible for guidance, read widely and thought deeply and I discovered that perhaps things were not quite so simple as I had been led to believe.

And as soon as I began to gain some work experience in clinical psychology, I realised that the practices advocated by some sectors of the ex-gay movement were far from orthodox, and had no evidence base on which to justify their use. (Indeed, there is more of an evidence base that would suggest their use is damaging!)

Through searching, a few lively debates with some church leaders I came to the conclusion that I'd been wrong - the Bible didn't condemn homosexuality, it wasn't a disease, trying to change it was likely to be damaging. Ultimately, I came to believe that the only real teaching in the Bible that could reasonably be applied to same-sex (or indeed, any) relationships was Jesus' teaching that we should love one another. So that's what I believe, that Christ is present in every relationship based on mutual love and trust.

Around the same time that I came to these conclusions, Jeffrey John was appointed as Bishop of Reading in England, and quickly resigned due to uproar in the Anglican church that hit international headlines. Everywhere you went, Christian circles were in a twist about gay Bishops and gay marriages!

I realised that in the church circles I moved in, I was probably not going to be welcome to think that being gay was not only ok, but gay relationships had the potential to be beautiful expressions of love. And as for putting into practice my newfound belief in Christ teaches us to celebrate loving relationships, and help those around us to overcome hurtful or damaging relationships...well that was just plain heresy!! (I'm so glad the British church has given up burning people at the stake - if they hadn't, I may well have been on one!)

I realised that my friends in same sex relationships were not going to have those relationships welcomed and supported in the Christian community. I realised that actually, perhaps I wasn't going to be welcome to do those things as a member of the Christian church. Everywhere I turned I met with awkwardness and disapproval.

So I left. I left the kind of churches I'd grown up in. I went through a long phase of doubting and at times, loneliness as I became cynical about just about everything I'd ever believed! In some ways lost my faith and found that my friendships with many Christian friends were growing distant.

In that time, I found a considerable refuge in a few of my friends who were gay, particularly my close Christian friend who had come out. As I rather emotionally apologised for advocating True Freedom Trust and not being able to accept her sexuality, she offered me the kind of understanding and forgiveness I needed.

Having felt so alone and as though I had lost my faith, her kindness and the understanding offered to me by several other of my friends who are gay enabled me to accept myself.

Although they probably never realised it at the time, their friendship and understanding towards me was a major factor in my not becoming entirely bitter and cynical. As many of them had found rejection in the conservative church, they'd also explored spirituality in a much more open and relaxed way. They too inspired me to continue on my spiritual search and explore the possibility of faith outside the conservative church.

And since I've found and been welcomed in gay affirming churches and spiritual groups that have welcomed my very honest and at times, painful questionning and through that I'm developing a more thoughtful and open minded faith.

I thought I was going to help gay people find Jesus - perhaps it is ironic, that when my faith was dangling by a thin thread, and the only words I had to say about the church were cynical and even bitter - it was their kindness and acceptance that enabled me to find Christ again and continue in my journey with a new sense of self acceptance, love for others and appreciation of life.

Robert L., Ohio (RLeuze-at-rcn.com)

Your e-mail reminds me of my own experience with "changing my sexual orientation." I had intended to speak to you of it at Midwinter but didn't have the opportunity.

I moved to New York City after college; because my attempts at forming relationships with two men in particular had ended very badly, I entered psychoanalysis to figure out if there was any hope left for me, for love.

This was the early sixties. My analyst believed that it was a certainty that I would become heterosexual -- homosexuality being, you see, an issue of stunted (or arrested) development. Not wanting to remain either stunted or arrested (it was partly a question of pride), I began to buy it.

After several years of individual and group therapy with my psychoanalyst, I fell in love with Sarah, who also was in the group. We'd known all about each other for years by that time, so we figured the cure had worked! So we got married and still are; however, we realized after a few years that the cure hadn't worked after all. Questo é la vita!

Oops, I meant, c'est la vie. (How's my translation? Not too off, I hope.)

So I did find love, but it wasn't what I'd expected.

But my analyst did accept me as a person, so I didn't suffer the extremes that you did. The one time he did challenge me to never have sex with a man again, I left his office and had sex with somebody the same evening; he never made such a suggestion again! (Did you see the new movie "Latter Days" yet? There's a strong scene where the ex-Mormon missionary undergoes some pretty terrible "treatments" to change him.)

And, in truth, my feelings toward men were so ambivalent that my marriage with Sarah was probably the richest relationship I ever could have sustained during my 30s, 40s, and 50s. So I don't entirely condemn my psychoanalysis; certainly my marriage remains rich, rewarding, and loving, and I cherish it.

Keriann P. (thershegos-at-hotmail.com)
Nevada, USA

I had just recently turned seventeen when my whole life changed. Torn between my familiar Mormon upbringing and my undeniable homosexuality, I had only stuck a toe out of the proverbial closet when my mother found a note in my pants pocket from me to my (then) girlfriend. Within two weeks the whole family was moved up to Orem, Utah to get me away from the "evils" and "temptations" of Las Vegas, where we had lived happily for roughly four years. Little did my devoutly religious parents realize that the "temptations" would still exist considering that Utah, like every other state, was swarming with women.

After three weeks of complete social seclusion and innumerable verbal brawls with both parents, my mother found it in her heart to recall the "good ole days" when she and I would take long walks together every morning before school. We would talk openly about everything under the sun except what I knew better than to confide. She was by far my dearest companion, my source of spiritual strength and the most understanding of confidants. She invited me to lunch at Souper Salad, "our" restaurant, and then drove up Provo Canyon to spend the entire afternoon, just her and I, talking, laughing, taking fun pictures of each other and specifically NOT bringing up my being gay, or anything related to it.

All ran smoothly until the drive home. She simply couldn't help herself from making some kind of dig and on the safe topic of the friendliness of our new church congregation (my house, my rules= Keriann goes to church with the family), she found just such opportunity to state, "It's so embarassing when a Sister comes up to me and says 'Oh my, you have such a beautiful daughter. I have a son around her age...'" After five seconds of the most piercing silence I'd ever experienced, she proceeded with "I don't even HAVE a beautiful daughter. I have a beautiful DYKE." As 'DYKE' resonated thru my head and tears immediately threatened to escape, I replied, "Mom, I may be beautiful dyke... but I will always be your daughter."

A week later, upon my refusal to attend a church meeting, I was "invited to leave the family" and given three hours to get myself and my belongings out. With no money and two boxes worth of my life, I called one of the only two friends I had made, explained the situation and begged for a ride to the bus stop. Not only did he give me the ride, but he also called the other friend whose mother happened to be an ex-mormon lesbian. Feeling for my cause (and (after much assurance that I had a place to stay), she bought my bus ticket back to Las Vegas.

In just one month, everything I knew about life had changed. I lived with my girlfriend for a few months, graduated high school early, tried to make amends back in Utah to no avail and then moved in with my gay male counterpart, Justin, and his parents. It was wonderful to see the healthy, supportive relationship between Justin and his parents- specifically his mother. She did not love him DESPITE his homosexuality. She loved him BECAUSE of it, because it's just one contributing factor to who he is as a person. Such a blessing it was to have lived with them and belong to a family who loved ME; a beautiful dyke.

I am now 21, still living in Las Vegas and still struggling to have a relationship with my parents. I have been madly in love with my Stephanie a little over three years now. We bought a house last year and have two cats. I am out, I am happy and I am one damn beautiful dyke.

What about you?

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