This blog is written from my personal experiences on why and how I successfully left the gay life. Because I knew my relationship with Christ and my sexual desires for the same sex couldn't mix, I had to make a choice.
I made that tough choice more than 20 years ago and in my heart I know it was the right choice. If someone truly wants out, it IS possible. There are many naysayers out there who will bog you down with their opinions. My belief is, if you want it bad enough you CAN change. It IS possible.
I made that tough choice more than 20 years ago and in my heart I know it was the right choice. If someone truly wants out, it IS possible. There are many naysayers out there who will bog you down with their opinions. My belief is, if you want it bad enough you CAN change. It IS possible.
Sexual Identity + Religion =?
I received a question from someone after reading my first blog post. The question was:
What do you think drew you to men?
This is a question that comes up quite a bit for anyone who has struggled with gender identity. I was raised in a very large family in America’s heartland—Indiana (thus my moniker, Hoosier). My father, uncles and grandfathers were into stereotypical guy things—fishing, hunting, cars and sports. Even at an early age of 4 or 5 I thought worms were slimy and gross, cars were just boring and sports—they were fun, but later in my childhood my father would push me into baseball and football because I was his firstborn son, and a boy is supposed to enjoy these things. I made my dad’s life miserable because I didn’t enjoy sports. As a kid I embarrassed him in front of his friends because I’d rather read books, work in the kitchen with my mom or write stories than play little league.
"It wasn’t just about the sex, it was about needing a stable,loving relationship—knowing that I was loved and accepted for myself."
I was a sensitive kid. My mom would say I wore my emotions on my sleeve. My parents and siblings teased me incessantly about things like not wanting to work on cars, thinking worms were gross and so on. I gradually distanced myself from my family because I didn’t trust them, especially my parents. We began moving every few years due to my dad’s job. He was gone much of my childhood, and when he was at home, he wasn’t there emotionally.
Because of my sensitivity, moving every two years I had a difficult time making friends. I was the nerd of the class. Everyone teased me. It didn’t matter where we lived; it was the same story in each city or state. Kids were cruel. I was called gay boy. I had no idea what that meant in the beginning. Over a period of years, cities and states I was called gay, f a g and much more. I never did anything to anyone to deserve the names; they just attached themselves to me. When you hear something repeatedly over a period of time you begin believing it, or at least I did.
By the time I was 18 I was ready to get out of the house, and away from my family. I headed off to college and promised myself that I would try and find out if I really was gay; after all I’d heard it from kids, my siblings and even my mother while I was growing up—it must be true. I was looking for something, but didn’t know what. It wasn’t just about the sex, it was about needing a stable, loving relationship—knowing that I was loved and accepted for myself. I’d do anything to find that type of acceptance. I hoped it really existed.
While attending Ball State I had a few sexual encounters with guys, but at the same time was still attracted to women. Everyone told me who I was and now I was more confused than ever. Did I like guys or girls? Did I like both? According to many people being bi-sexual was the best of both worlds, but others said I was just disgusting if I went both ways. You're damned if you do and damned if you don’t .
What do you think drew you to men?
This is a question that comes up quite a bit for anyone who has struggled with gender identity. I was raised in a very large family in America’s heartland—Indiana (thus my moniker, Hoosier). My father, uncles and grandfathers were into stereotypical guy things—fishing, hunting, cars and sports. Even at an early age of 4 or 5 I thought worms were slimy and gross, cars were just boring and sports—they were fun, but later in my childhood my father would push me into baseball and football because I was his firstborn son, and a boy is supposed to enjoy these things. I made my dad’s life miserable because I didn’t enjoy sports. As a kid I embarrassed him in front of his friends because I’d rather read books, work in the kitchen with my mom or write stories than play little league.
"It wasn’t just about the sex, it was about needing a stable,loving relationship—knowing that I was loved and accepted for myself."
I was a sensitive kid. My mom would say I wore my emotions on my sleeve. My parents and siblings teased me incessantly about things like not wanting to work on cars, thinking worms were gross and so on. I gradually distanced myself from my family because I didn’t trust them, especially my parents. We began moving every few years due to my dad’s job. He was gone much of my childhood, and when he was at home, he wasn’t there emotionally.
Because of my sensitivity, moving every two years I had a difficult time making friends. I was the nerd of the class. Everyone teased me. It didn’t matter where we lived; it was the same story in each city or state. Kids were cruel. I was called gay boy. I had no idea what that meant in the beginning. Over a period of years, cities and states I was called gay, f a g and much more. I never did anything to anyone to deserve the names; they just attached themselves to me. When you hear something repeatedly over a period of time you begin believing it, or at least I did.
By the time I was 18 I was ready to get out of the house, and away from my family. I headed off to college and promised myself that I would try and find out if I really was gay; after all I’d heard it from kids, my siblings and even my mother while I was growing up—it must be true. I was looking for something, but didn’t know what. It wasn’t just about the sex, it was about needing a stable, loving relationship—knowing that I was loved and accepted for myself. I’d do anything to find that type of acceptance. I hoped it really existed.
While attending Ball State I had a few sexual encounters with guys, but at the same time was still attracted to women. Everyone told me who I was and now I was more confused than ever. Did I like guys or girls? Did I like both? According to many people being bi-sexual was the best of both worlds, but others said I was just disgusting if I went both ways. You're damned if you do and damned if you don’t .
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