Change

Anyone who knows me well would probably say that I don’t handle change very well. I like getting into a routine and knowing what to expect. I feel a sort of comfort from this. That doesn’t mean, however, that I don’t enjoy a little spontaneity every once in a while or that I can’t recognize when change must happen, or that I’m completely against anything ever changing. It just means that I don’t tend to like life changing surprises, especially if I’m ill prepared for them, in disagreement of their effects, if it means I have to completely readjust or rethink my plans in life, or if I have to give up some greater level of control over my life.

Having said all of this, I will now say something that will sound completely contradictory. For quite some time now I have been earnestly trying to allow God to lead me in my life. I think if one is truly going to call Jesus the Lord of their life, then this must happen. Naturally, though, this means that I am not going to be the one planning a good part of my life, but rather having it planned and directed for me by God, and interjected by many, many possible changes—and God has certainly thrown me some curveballs to have to deal with.

When change is introduced in one’s life, it is easy to worry. I try not to worry though, desperately recognizing the truths that it cannot add even a second to my life and is nothing more than a chasing after the wind, meaningless. Keeping this in mind has certainly helped me to accept and look for the good in any changes that have taken place in my life though, and to not be so completely against them.

Something I’ve thought a lot about the last few weeks, considering the closing of Exodus International, is exactly what sort of help and/or change Exodus actually brought about in me. I believe I was genuinely helped by them, and because of their help, certain things have definitely changed in me. It was not help through reparative therapy, though, but by the hope of it, and mostly by their simply reaching out to me in kindness and understanding at a time when I really needed someone to.

I didn’t want to be gay. This thought dominated me from the first moment I realized I was attracted to other men. I thought my parents and other family members would reject me, I thought friends would reject me, and I thought God would reject me. I didn’t want to be rejected by anyone for this reason. I was though. And I did have a certain level of self-hatred because of it. I was different and I didn’t want to be. I felt inferior, like I was broken in comparison to other guys. All of this was because I was gay, and I thought that if I could just not be gay, everything would be better.

I prayed for God to change me, to help me, more times than I can even remember.

When I sought out help from Exodus, I literally had no place else I felt like I could turn to. I don’t exaggerate when I say that. They were the only refuge I could find to help me in any way regarding my struggles (and believe me, I tried). I felt like they understood me. They welcomed me. They told me I could change, but to focus first and foremost on my relationship with God.

I should clarify something here. I said “they” told me, but what I should have said more specifically was that my counselor, Paul, was the one mostly telling me this. He was one of only about a handful of contacts I ever made through Exodus, but was my primary contact above all others. Paul helped me the most. He listened, comforted me, gave solid Christian advice, encouraged me, and prayed for me—he is one of the kindest and Godliest men I have ever known, and there is nearly nothing I can think of by looking back that I can say he was wrong about. He just wanted to help, and I think he knew how much I needed it.

Even though Paul did believe it was possible for me to change my sexual orientation, he never pushed that. He always tried far more to encourage me to build my relationships with others, to develop and work on some goals in life, and to grow stronger in my faith (he looked beyond my sexual orientation). If anyone ever pushed orientation change, it was me. After all, I was the one who wanted it, and wrongfully thought that a lot of my life’s problems would go away if I could just change.

After many years of trying, I realized the change I wanted wasn’t happening. I admit that I got far too tired of trying, but more importantly, it no longer made sense to me to try. I no longer believed I should try. This isn’t to suggest, however, that certain positive changes weren’t taking place during that time though. They were. It’s just that my sexual orientation wasn’t one of them. And in some ways, I realize that this may be for the best.

I believe the world needs gay Christians—people who can help build a bridge between the church and individuals who have all too often felt completely excluded or pushed away from her. Having a foot in both worlds, I can certainly help to build that bridge. Furthermore, I recognize that trying to change my sexuality just isn’t worth my time when I think about all the greater things I could be doing with it; not just for myself, but for God and others as well. I’ve realized that in some ways, it is definitely better to simply accept my sexuality for what it is, rather than to focus so much time worrying about it. That, in itself, has been a tremendous change for me.

Looking back, I can say I have changed or developed many beliefs over the years, either entirely or in part. For one, I don’t think I care nearly so much about what others think or believe as I used to. And this is good because it means I can just be myself and not be so hurt by the action or inaction of others. Secondly, I’m not so quick to act upon the advice or thoughts of others without first doing a whole heap of thinking on my own. Keeping an open mind and being willing to listen to the thoughts and ideas of others certainly can go a long way. Thirdly, I have decided that at least some people in this world really are worth knowing and I should try harder to get to know them. Fourthly, I’ve realized that worrying gets me nowhere, even if I still find this a hard habit to break at times. Fifthly, I know God doesn’t hold anything against me for being gay, which is a huge load of relief. Sixthly, hope is incredibly important, but no less than faith and reason. Seventhly, it is good to be humble and to admit my weaknesses. Eighthly, not everybody is going to like me, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t still try to like and be nice to them. Ninthly, it’s good to have goals and dreams in life, just so long as I don’t forget to live a little in between the planning, working, and (hopeful) eventual achievement of said goals and dreams. Tenthly, it’s better to think positive and look for the good in every situation, and in every person, than to think the worst. And the most important is to hold onto God no matter what, trusting Him in all things. I say this because He’s the only person I’ve ever known to be with me completely through thick and thin. He has done so much for me. Without him, I’d be lost. I also say to trust Him in all things because only He can ever truly know what is best for us.

When I think of change, I recognize it as something that can be good or bad, expected or unexpected, wanted or unwanted, but something that does happen for each and every one of us. It is unavoidable. And we can either make the best of it, or the worst of it.

For many years, Exodus’ slogan was “change is possible”. I know many people never felt that they actually helped to change anything for them, but for me, they did. They may not have helped me to change my sexuality, but they were a part of many other changes, which have certainly done me and others a great deal of good. There is no doubt in my mind that God did in fact use them to help me as I’d pleaded so often for Him to do. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

With all of this in mind, I say to be hopeful, to trust God, to follow God, to look for the good in all things, and to try your best not to worry. And do not be troubled in whatever changes come your way.

This, at least, is what I am going to try my best to do.

Things Change

I’ve never been one to handle life changes very well. Maybe I don’t handle any changes very well. I know things need to change from time to time, and I’m always open to suggestions or ideas from others. If someone comes up to me with a really good idea, I have no problem going with it, even if it means change on my part, because I know good is better, naturally. But when it comes to major life changes, I find them to be extremely difficult to go through.

I miss a lot of people. I’ve never been a social butterfly, if you will. I’ve never been one to get out much, and even if I did, in this neck of the woods there just honestly isn’t that much to do. I mean, literally, it’s a choice between going into the next county all the time (which takes gas money), or sitting in the local Kmart parking lot (boy, ain’t that fun!). And so, I just don’t get out much. What that means is that most friends I’ve made over the years have been people I went to school with, worked with, went to church with, or that I met online. I’m grateful for these friends, but when there’s a change in school, work, church, or online activity, I seem to lose touch with many of them. I miss my friends from high school. I miss all the different friends I made at my former job. I miss the people I used to go to church with. I miss my friends from college. And I miss some of my online friends. When things change, I know I am liable to end up falling out of touch with people and missing them. And so, I’m resistant to change.

I reflect a lot on my life. Certain moments, activities, and events I look back on with great fondness. Those are the good times, and… I miss them. I miss when my dad and I played video games together. I miss those calm, peaceful, nights when I worked at the lake. I miss student teaching. I miss going to Wednesday night prayer meetings. I miss going to college. I miss my old girlfriend. I miss when my nephews were babies.

There’s just so much I miss.

I’m too terribly sentimental about things. I leave a hotel room at the end of a vacation and stop and take a last look around to remember it, because I know once I walk out the door, I’ll probably never again be back in that same room. I understand completely why Lot’s wife probably felt that she had to look back before the destruction of Sodom. And I also understand why God told her not to look back. Sometimes it is best not to look back—especially if what you’re looking back at is on the shady side of things (or just outright sinful). But what if what you’re looking back on are the good times in life? In these cases, I think it’s best to remember them well, to cherish them in the bad times, and to always look to the future to include just as many, if not more, good times than the past.

It worries me when things look to be changing. There’s a great deal of unknowns that go along with that change. Will things be better, worse, the same but just different. You never really know upfront. But what helps me get through those worries, and to not worry as much as I otherwise could, is the fact that I know God is leading me in my life. When I look back, I see all the different ways he has guided me, and I see that He’s never failed me. I trust God that my future will hold great promise. I cling to the promise God makes to each of us in Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” I believe in this with all of my heart. And so, whenever I begin feeling a bit too sentimental and clingy to the past or present, or worrisome about the future, I just try to remind myself of the promises and faithfulness of the Lord. With that in mind, things can change, and I can know that in the end I’ll be all right, that God will take care of me, and that there’s no reason to worry about whatever may come. God will see me through.

Feelings

Sometimes I feel such a strong urge to want to be with another guy. The feeling just seems to consume me. I feel lonely or... well maybe not lonely, but something. I feel like I'm missing a part of me. I alluded to this in my last post. It's as if God took something out of me and there's a void or emptiness now. Maybe it is just loneliness.

Anyway, I had this feeling rather intensely the other day and I was wishing and wanting so much that I could have a boyfriend. Then a strange sort of feeling came over me. I suddenly thought it would be weird to be with another guy. Just out of nowhere this creepy sort of otherworldly feeling entered my mind. I thought about myself having a boyfriend and all the aspects of a relationship with him and suddenly the idea of all that seemed almost like a turn off. To be perfectly honest, this is a feeling that's come over me more and more frequently over the last couple of years. But I don't know that it ever seemed as strange as it did this last time.

I wonder if maybe it really, truly is possible for a person to change their sexual orientation. Especially when I have feelings such as these. I'll admit, the last time I looked at pornography I cleared my mind of any sexually exciting, lustful thoughts/energy/whatever and just really thought about what I was looking at. I saw two guys having sex and the image of that seemed so very odd. I then imagined the two men being straight, and I almost felt repulsed. I thought of guys I knew at work or church and attempted to imagine them kissing another guy or having sex or being in a relationship with another guy, and it just seemed unimaginable.

I've always had such a strong feeling that God never meant for two men (or two women) to be with each other sexually. I guess the mechanics of that act just never seemed to fit the whole creation story and particularly the primary purpose of sex for procreation. (And please don't think that by that statement I don't believe sex is also meant to be an expression of love. Just that without sex, there'd be no procreation or life giving, and so that would have to be its primary function, or else all life would cease to exist).

I think about being with another guy, and I feel like if I were with another guy, that part of me which I feel is missing would no longer be missing. But then I think about what it would actually mean to be with another guy, and I start having these strange feelings. Something about being with another guy just doesn't feel right. Even though most of the time it does. But on that same note, almost nothing about being with a woman feels right.

I wonder sometimes if all this has something to do with feeling less than masculine. I usually don't feel very masculine at all, even though I know I do have certain masculine traits or characteristics. But I also wonder if it's because I'm not fully being myself most of the time. Naturally I'm more feminine in a lot of ways than what I usually allow most people to see or know. I try to be more masculine than I feel I actually am. And the thing is, I think deep down I prefer the feminine me. I like the fact that my eyes have a sort of feminine look about them, the way they're shaped. I like that my smile often has a shy girls look to it. I like that I talk with my hands sometimes. I like that my voice isn't real deep. I like a lot of the sort of feminine characteristics that I have. I just wish sometimes that I could be my feminine self toward another guy. And then I think about what I'd like from another guy—what sort of relationship I'd like.

I want a guy who'll love me for me. I want a guy who considers me something special. I want a guy I can cook meals with and go places with. I want a guy I can hold hands with. I want a guy I can share the holidays and special occasions with. I want a guy who will take care of me and who I can take care of in return. I want a guy who will hold me and love me and think I'm the best thing since sliced bread, and who I'll feel the same about.

I want kids, but I know no other guy can ever give me that. Nor could I do that for another guy. As much as mankind likes to play God, we humans still haven't found the way for two men to procreate. I'd have to be with a woman in order to have kids of my own. But I don't think I could ever be with a woman. Seems like the older I get the less likely that seems. God may have a surprise in store for me yet, but for now, I just don't see that ever happening. Maybe I'm too womanly myself to ever be with a woman. But there again, I don't think a woman could satisfy that void-like feeling within me.

Like I said in my last post, God please just take this feeling and do something with it. It's just annoying the heck out of me. I want something and that something seems to be a relationship with another guy, but when I actually consider pursuing that, something about it starts feeling wrong or unusual. Maybe I just can't escape the fact that I believe homosexual relationships are sinful, and that God wouldn't approve. Maybe I just need to accept this and accept being celibate and move forward along that path. Maybe that void will be filled by greater friendships or even by God himself. However it's filled, I just wish it would happen already, and in a more positive way than I've come up with myself.

~ ~ ~

And now on a whole separate subject, I was informed today that a friend of mine from high school, who I hadn't seen in a few years now, passed away last night. It's suspected he had a heart attack. To the best of my knowledge, this was the first person from my class who has died.

My preacher says from time to time that we are all just a heartbeat away from death. Well, I suppose that's true. It shocks me sometimes to realize just how fragile life really is. And I'll admit, sometimes the prospect of death scares me a little. I wonder if I've been faithful enough, or if I've truly had the right sort of relationship with Christ to be able to go to heaven. I think I have, but I guess sometimes I have my doubts. I get to feeling so far away from Christ sometimes that it makes me wonder whether or not He's still walking by my side, or if He's abandoned me. So far, He keeps pulling me back to Him. As a friend of mine recently put it, “I cannot see without Him as my eyes, or breath without Him as my lungs”. I like that. I can't escape Him and I'm glad for that. He never leaves me.

But I'm saddened that this old friend died. I'd just recently read about him in the local paper. He was involved with the direction of a play in the local theatre, and seemed to be really making a name for himself. I hate that he had to die so young in life. But I'm glad at the same time because I honestly do think he's in that better place now. He now has the rest of eternity before him, with Christ standing by his side.

I feel like I just have to trust God. I have to or I'll go crazy. If I trust God and allow Him to take me where He wishes and lead me in all things, that's the only way I'll ever be happy. And I guess I need to stop worrying so much. My counselor recently told me he felt I was thinking too much about the future and worrying about what might be or what could happen, living in fear of those things, rather than focusing on the moment at hand. I think he's right. I worry too much about being alone, about how my future will turn out, about what career to pursue or what direction I should be taking, and about dying before I've accomplished this or that, and there's just nothing good at all about worrying about any of it. All it does, thinking about those things, is drag me down. I suppose that's exactly what the devil wants of me.

I think I just want a change. I want something different and new and exciting.

Maybe I just need to pull my head out of my a**.

The Importance Of Friends (or: What Beats the Loneliness)

A few months ago, I got the following advice from Jay in response to the post I'd written titled Am I An Eleanor Rigby?:

“As for loneliness, I only have this advice that works for me. Memory is the biggest foil for loneliness. Remember your friends, your travels, your family, the times when you felt comfortable and at peace. Think about them often, and try to make new memories by seeking out friends and having a good time. When you're with them, enjoy the moment and be blessed! When you're not, remember that they're still out there and still love you. Right now an intimate relationship might be denied you, but you can find just as much validation and joy in your friends and family.

Feel better, and God bless.”

Jay, your advice has helped.

One thing I have struggled with a lot in my life is loneliness. Because of some of my low self-esteem/self-confidence issues, lack of social involvement with others as a child, and fears about people finding out about my struggles with homosexuality, I've had a tendency to hide myself in near complete isolation a great deal of the time—I can be a real hermit. In doing this, I've made myself so terribly lonely at times. Contributing to that feeling is the fear of being rejected by others. There have been a lot of people in my past that I have tried to reach out to and be friends with who simply wouldn't respond back to me. They didn't want to be friends with me, I guess. And I've tended to take that personally as something purely against me.

I don't think I realized it exactly, but shortly after high school, for about three or four years, I think I just quit trying to make friends. I tried to be friendly or nice to others, but I wasn't trying so much to make friends with anyone. I thought it was pointless for me to even try. So many people had turned away from me that I think I just didn't want to be hurt anymore. So, I just didn't try. I'd given up on that.

One of the first bits of advice I ever received from anyone at Exodus International was that I needed to try to build some good, healthy friendships. I think the man who suggested that to me could see into my life just enough to know how friendless I really was at the time. So, because of that, he pushed me to find friends, to try once again to make friends, and to not just give up on that effort. I believe he also told me that it might be hard for me, that there would probably still be people rejecting me in the matter, but that I shouldn't just give up on that effort and be friendless the rest of my life. I think he knew, rightly, too, just how important having friends would be for me in my fight to overcome homosexuality. That's definitely something I've learned. I couldn't do this without the help and support and prayers of other people.

Looking back over this last year, I can say it was certainly one of the hardest years of my life. My preacher, of all people, showed no interest of helping me, which made me question just how open about my struggles I could be with others and just how trusting I could be of my church. I took a job that stressed me out and literally just sucked the life out of me. I was depressed and frustrated, and in general was seeing my entire life get turned upside down and inside out and it just is a miracle to me that I never lost my sanity throughout it all (I think I came close to that a few times actually). But, it was just a very difficult year for me. There was a lot of change for me, and I've never been one to handle change very well; I tend to resist that. I've struggled to see myself differently, to see others differently, to give up certain sins—all sin in my life really, and to learn how to trust God and others in my life. And I have struggled with making friends. I've let my feelings get really hurt many times this last year while trying to be friends with people. I've taken things a little too personally a few times. But, as I look back, I realize I have made friends. Some of my employees showed me on a few occasions how much they liked me back this last summer. There was one particular day when I was feeling so down, and my boss was just railing at everything I did, and a few of them wrote me a little note, left it on my desk, telling me how much they appreciated me and were uplifting me and encouraged me by not only that but by including a verse from the bible on the backside of the note. The verse was this: “Blessed is the man who perseveres under temptation, for when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.” (James 1:12) I was very moved by what they did, and I kept that note and reflected on it many times when things at work weren't going so well.

I was able to strengthen two former friendships as well this last summer. Two of my workers were people who I'd worked alongside of in previous years. I could often go to them and vent and also get advice, and I allowed them to help me be a better boss by listening to them. But, I also saw that the two of them always stuck by me. When everyone else seemed to be abandoning me there towards the end of things, they stuck by me. They cared and they helped me. I'll admit that bewildered me a little. I'm not used to people, other than family, doing that. And I realized by it that these two people are REAL friends. I only hope I can give back to them as much as they've given to me. I hope I can be and am being as good a friend to them in return. Like I already mentioned, I have a tendency to turn away from others and hide myself, so that's been something I've had to work through with them. It's like I keep expecting them to eventually turn away from me, so I have to keep stopping myself from turning away from them first (that's what I used to do to keep from being hurt).

I also found a friend in my Exodus counselor this last year. He's helped me so much in just being there for me and helping me work through some of the feelings of frustration and confusion I've had, but also to help motivate me to change my life for the better. I'm eternally grateful for him, and I thank God for leading him into my life. And I can say the same for my mentor through Setting Captives Free. Both of these men have helped me so much and really I don't know what I'd do without them.

I've also made several Internet friends. I took a chance back last winter, just before Christmas of '06, and sent an email to a nineteen-year-old college student in Maryland. He had been featured in his campus' newspaper for having stood up for his Christian convictions concerning his struggle with homosexuality during a “God hates Fags!” rally, in which he was not only called a “sodomite” by one of the speakers, but was also told he'd never get to heaven because of his homosexual temptations. He stood up to those people and “set them straight,” so to speak, and his college newspaper had decided to write an article about him and his struggles. I instantly admired him for being so open about his struggles, but also for having so much faith in God and for standing up so boldly for other Christians struggling with these things. I emailed him thanking him for what he'd done and offered him a bit of encouragement as well. I took a chance in doing that, because it was something I'd never done before due to a lack of trust for people over the Internet. But it's one chance I've never regretted. He responded back to me, and what has followed is a deep friendship that I cherish with all of my heart. I've made such a wonderful and godly friendship with him. Through that friendship, so many old wounds have been healed in my heart. We typically write back and forth to each other about once or twice a week, and we've done that for a little over a year now. My hope is that eventually I'll get to meet with my friend in person. But it's just been so great knowing him because we understand each other, can encourage each other, can lift each other up, pray for each other, and we actually do have a whole lot in common that we can talk about besides our struggles. I honestly do just love him to pieces. He's one of the best friends I've ever had.

I've made other online friends as well. I'd consider a great number of my fellow bloggers to be friends. I say that because you've been there for me and prayed for me and you've helped me by being so willing to share in this fight alongside of me. I've talked with a couple of you through email and I've made some good friendships there. You know who you are, and I'll thank you from the bottom of my heart for being friends with me. You're gifts from God, quite literally. And so are all of my friends.

Looking back, it sort of surprises me just how many friends I have made. I'd prayed for a long time for God to send people into my life, and I see where that's happening. I have friends now for the first time in my life! I have real, genuine friends who know me and like me and want to be around me. Sometimes that really does dumbfound me. I spent so many years thinking I wasn't worthy of friendship or of love. So many people had rejected me or made fun of me or turned away from me, and I think I was so full of self-hate as well for a few past actions that I just literally couldn't see how anybody could ever think otherwise about me. I thought I was unlovable. But I'm seeing where I was wrong for thinking that.

When it comes to loneliness, I continue to struggle with that at times—sometimes quite severely. But I know that when I try to do as Jay suggested and think back on all the good times, and to know that there are people who love me, who care about me, who do want to know me, and to know how God feels about me, the loneliness goes away. What's helped the most, really, is just finally realizing how God feels about me. He loves me—me, this horrible sinner who in no way deserves His love or anything else from Him! And that overwhelms me. I just try to think of all the good that really has been in my life, all those good times, all those good feelings, all those people who are my friends (even if I can't always be around them), my family and the warmth and love I've received from them, and how much God loves me and wants to spend time with me, and all those lonely feelings just go away. I thank Jay for his advice. It does help to think about these things, and to place them in my heart.

It just occurred to me that this is my fiftieth post, and I really can't think of a more befitting subject to have written about for this occasion than the subject of friendship. I'm glad I decided not to give up on making friends. It would have been so easy for me to have just accepted a lonely, friendless existence and lived the rest of my life in isolation. That would have been the easy thing to do. I'll admit, I think it's hard making friends. It's hard being a friend sometimes. For one, it's a two way street. Someone once told me, and I forget who, but they said, “In order to make friends, you must first be a friend.” I think that's great advice. How can a person make friends if they're not first willing to reach out and offer friendship to others? Or, for that matter, to respond back to people who offer you friendship? It can't be done. You have to reach out to others in order to make friends.

My hope is that all of you out there are making friends too and not just living lonely lives in seclusion. I hope you are at least trying to make friends, and have not given up. If you have given up, believe me, you're missing out on so much in life. Life is really hard living when you have no friends. When you have no friends, you have nobody to fall back on when the going gets tough, or who you can enjoy your life with, or get support or advice from, or love.

One of my favorite quotes is this: “No man is a failure who has friends”. That comes from the movie It's A Wonderful Life. And like George Bailey, the main character of that movie, I'm beginning to see just how wonderful my life is, and can be. I have hope now. And I realize there are going to still be plenty of lonely days ahead of me in my life. But I know now how better to handle those times. I have friends I can go to, and new friendships to make. I have good memories I can linger on. And, above all else, I know I can always turn to God. I can always lay my head upon His breast, talk to Him, and feel the radiant love that He has for me shining through. And that's what beats the loneliness.

Becoming Man

A few years ago I took a summer job working around other guys. It was a simple job mostly and was dependent upon customers. That basically means that we sat around a good portion of the time just waiting for the customers to show up.

During those quiet times at work, I began talking with some of the other guys. I remember being very nervous about that in the beginning. I hadn't had much experience relating to other guys, and I basically had no clue as to how to talk to any of them. I remember being very reserved and feeling so awkward and out of place being around them like that. I mean, here I was working with at least ten to fifteen other guys, just thrown into the mix with them, and not having the faintest idea as to how to relate to them.

I found a friend fairly quickly in the resident screwball, who'd worked there for about twenty-five years. When I call my friend that, I mean it in the best of ways. He's a lot older than me, but he's got the heart of a child. There have been very few men in my life who I've known to be so warm and open and caring. I found that I could relate to him easily. I felt like a great big kid myself anyway, so we made a good match.

I slowly learned that summer how to get along with other guys as well. By simply talking to these other guys, I began to learn that not all men are cruel, thoughtless, uncaring, jerks. I began to learn that some were, but not all of them. In fact, most of them weren't. Most of them tried to get to know me in return. They talked with me, asked about me, laughed at my jokes, and joked back.

I remember that, in the beginning, I actually hated my job. I hated being thrown in with all these other guys. But by time fall approached, I'd learned to love my job. I really did love my job. I loved being able to be around those other guys. I loved the friendships I was building. And whenever I was asked to return to work that next summer, I certainly jumped at the chance.

This is now my sixth year working at __________. I'm now the boss of my department. I got this promotion because of that first guy who befriended me. He recommended me for the job. I don't expect my friend will ever read this blog. He does not know that I struggle with my sexuality. Although he has admitted to me that he's suspected I might, I've never admitted that, and for now I'd rather him not know. Regardless of that, I know I owe him a lot. I'm very thankful for him, and I hope that he knows that.

In learning to be friends with other guys, I've made some horrible mistakes. I've pushed away some of them whenever I found myself becoming attracted to them. I've neglected them at times for fear of getting too close to me and finding out my horrible little secret. I've turned down invitations to hang out or to go to parties or group outings with some of them. I've made a lot of mistakes like that, which I regret so very much. However, I was thinking today about how far I've come. Six years ago, I didn't really have any close male friends. I didn't have hardly any male friends, close or otherwise. Most of my friends were girls. But there have been so many friends I've made over the last six years. I'll admit that the majority of them, I lost as friends once the summer ended. Actually, I don't think “lost” is quite the right word. They are still friends. I just don't get to see most of them near as often as I'd like.

I've learned so much from these guys. I learned how to relate to other men. I learned that I'm not some girl stuck in a mans body. I'm a guy just like any other guy. Most guys face similar problems I have—pornography, masturbation, lust, envy, loneliness, rejection, etc. A lot of them have went through similar things. I would never have known that if I'd not started trying to make friends with them. I've learned that there is no such thing as a perfect guy. I've learned that I'm a lot more like other men than I ever thought possible. And over the years, I've grown to feel a lot more comfortable around other men. I've learned to be at ease around them.

It's funny, because six years ago, I couldn't imagine any other guy asking me for advice about guy things. This year at work, earlier this summer, I had three of them asking me about sex, one about college, one about religion, and I'm sure several other things have come up that I'm just not thinking about right now. I feel like I'm one of the guys now. And in a way, that's not really as strange as it seems like it should be, or like I used to think it would be.

When I first heard the message a year and half ago proclaimed by Exodus International, that change is possible, I believed it because I'd already experienced a little bit of it. Their message had already rung true in my life, or had began to ring true. Not that it's a guarantee, but that to one degree or another a person battling with homosexual temptations can change their lives. Their message is that homosexuality isn't really about sex, or a sexual problem, but that it's relational problem and one of misperception. It's not that we have a problem with sex, but that we have a problem relating to other people of the same sex. We simply use sex as a means of achieving those things we didn't receive from those of our own sex. (I won't say anything else here, because I know multitudes are sure to disagree with me about this stuff, and I'm not writing this post to debate these things, nor will I. There are a lot more things to mention here, which I won't bring up at this time). I believed this message because I knew how different I'd already begun feeling around other men since the time I started working with them. I could see so clearly how those problems with relating could cause me to have homosexual attractions. It's an opposites attract sort of thing. I didn't relate to men, but I could relate to women, so naturally, woman was not my “other”, but men were. Over the last six years, as I've been able to better learn to relate to other men, and as I've begun seeing myself in a different light, the attractions I've had for men has gradually decreased. And whenever I can go long periods of time without pornography or creating sexual fantasies in my mind, the even more those attractions dissipate. I feel more like a man now than at any of time in my life.

Having said that, I still feel very insecure as a man sometimes. I wish I could make more “close” friends, or feel like I have more in common with other guys. I have a few male friends now, and I love each of them, but I still wish I could spend more time with them. I hate the onset of fall (even though it is my favorite time of the year) because I know most of the friends I've made over the summer will be leaving and moving on in life. I know I won't get to see them or hang out with them as much. And there are a lot of guys I know I'm going to miss terribly. Some of them who have already moved on, I already miss terribly. I wish I never had to say “goodbye” to any of them.

I thank God for my friends though. I thank God for sending people into my life who have helped me so much. I thank Him for showing me a way out. God does that you know. Whenever you're stuck and needing help, God will help you and show you a way out. Before I began that summer job, that first year, I had just experienced one of the worst times of my life. It was my first year in college. I lost most of my girl friends from high school and was having so much trouble making new friends. I felt so lonely, and I was just coming to terms with the fact that I was gay. I was diving headfirst into all sorts of sinful behaviors, and I was so depressed I couldn't stand it. I was suicidal and actually came within only seconds of surely killing myself—I'd planned to drive myself off a cliff and just barely turned to wheel in time to keep myself from doing that. I remember traveling back and forth from classes and crying and praying until it hurt, begging God to help me, and crying out to Him to help me stop being gay. God showed me a way out! He showed me how to relate to other guys in a Godly way. He showed me that I'm not some horrible freak. I am a man, and I am a Christian. That's what I am. And even though I do find men attractive, that doesn't make me gay. I'm just like any other guy. Hey, we all have problems. But whatever our problems are, we shouldn't label ourselves by those problems.

I am loved! God loves me. My family loves me. I have friends who love me. I have people who care about me and want to help me. I'm not alone. It feels so good to know and to say that. I was alone for such a long time.

Here's my advice for anyone struggling with homosexuality: Pray to God to show you a way out. Try to build positive, Godly friendships. Bring your sins into the light, and allow others to help you. Be open-minded and reach out to others. But most of all, trust that God WILL show you a way out. Hold onto that with all your heart.

I'm sad that I've had to say goodbye to so many of the friends I've made. I wish I didn't have to say goodbye to any of them. But I'm grateful for having been able to know them during the time we were granted. They befriended me, and they helped me in a way which I doubt most of them will ever realize. And I'm not only talking about the guy friends I've made at work. I'm also so very grateful for all the friends I've made at church and online. I'm grateful God has given me friends. All of them have made me feel like I belong, that I'm not some sort of freak or different. They've cared about me, loved me, and made me feel like a man.

...I am a man.

Reflections On My Life: Part One

The other day I was reading through some of the posts on my blog and it occurred to me that I'd never really written about any of my gay experiences. Well, other than some of the feelings I've had related to them. I think I can honestly say that I've been somewhat avoiding this subject. It is not an easy thing for me to talk about being gay. There are so many things about my life that I've tried so very hard to pretend wasn't real, or to forget about or block out, to lock deep down within myself to never let resurface. But there are a lot of things that I've wanted to write about and to open up on. So, I began thinking about where to start. Then it hit me, “How do I begin to tell the story of my life?” I had no idea, and I definitely didn't realize how difficult this would be. There are so many things I could tell, but it'd take me a lifetime just to write about it all. I tried to start from several different points, and then I just decided to start with what I know...

I am gay. Don't ask me to explain this, because I don't know for sure why that is. Not to say that I don't have some strong ideas about that, but I can't say beyond a shadow of a doubt that it's because of genetics or the environment in which I've lived, or a combination of the two. I've always tended to believe that certain environmental factors played the biggest part in this, but I'm not closed-minded or stubborn enough to rule out the possibility of genetics having played some role. Whatever the cause, however, I am, beyond a shadow of a doubt, a homosexual.

The first time I ever remember hearing the word gay was when I was in the fifth grade. All I was told it meant was that that's what you were if you liked other guys. I had no clue what that really meant though. I had already began noticing other guys. I was drawn to them for some reason, which I couldn't understand. I would catch myself looking at them and having odd thoughts and feelings, which made no sense at all to me at the time. It was strange, because I knew that as a guy, I was supposed to find girls attractive and I was supposed to want a girlfriend, but that just wasn't at all what I felt for girls, or what I wanted from them. Girls were never anything more than just friends, if even that. I honestly had no desire at all to be with any of them. I only wanted to be around other guys. I was desperate for their friendship and acceptance. I just wanted to feel as though I was “one of them”.

I always had trouble making friends while in school. Girls were most often easy to befriend. But with the guys, I always seemed to be this outcast or loner. I never felt as though I was good enough or fit in. I didn't enjoy sports, and was never any good at any of them when I tried to participate. I'm not a car junkie or a music fanatic either. So, that practically ruled out three-fourths of the guys I could have had anything in common with.

I remember being made fun of. I suppose that's why I deplore that act so much today. I absolutely hate seeing another person being made fun of or belittled. But I remember so many innuendoes and jokes at my expense. I remember being called gay for the first time when I was in the sixth grade. I had already began to wonder about myself by that age, always in denial about it though. Not that I thought I was gay, because I didn't fully understand what that meant, but that I knew there was something different about me. But I remember one day when a local doctor was invited to our school to teach us boys about the birds and the bees. Somewhere in the question and answer session that followed, it was asked, “How many guys are gay?” The response was, “About one in every hundred. Chances are, one in this room of about forty might be gay.” The room became really quiet and I remember feeling myself turn beet red. I wasn't even sure why. Afterwards, however, when we returned to our regular classes, one of the other guys, someone whom I'd mistaken as a friend at the time, was telling one of the girls in our class about what all had been discussed. When he mentioned the part about the gay question, he turned to me and said to the girl, “Yeah, we all thought he (the doctor) was talking about Brandon”. I made some fire back remark and left it at that, but I felt crushed. I knew that being gay wasn't something a person wanted to be. I knew that much. Being gay meant that you were different. But I realized at that moment that that's what other people were beginning to think of me, or at least might be thinking about me. And whatever gay really meant, it must not be anything good, or else it wouldn't always be used in a negative context. I often wondered why anyone would think that about me, but looking back, I suppose I probably did give myself away fairly well in a few regards. But at the time, I was always puzzled about it.

In the later part of that same year, I began having sexual encounters with another guy. He was a couple of years younger than me, and it was mostly innocent type of stuff at the start. Over the next two years though, things got a little more serious. We eventually ended up having sex with each other at least three times that I can remember.

When I entered high school, I broke off that relationship. One reason for this was out of necessity. I didn't want anyone knowing I was gay, and after a few close calls, I decided it would be better to play it safe and lay low. I decided it would be safer and more convenient to pretend to be straight. Secondly, I'd began to realize more fully what being gay was, and I just didn't want that for myself. I also didn't want to give in to something considered sinful by God. Thirdly, I had to listen to my conscience. As right as being with another guy felt, there was something about it that never felt right. It was just one of those gut feelings, which told me I wasn't doing something I should be. Perhaps it was God laying heavy upon my heart? Whatever the reasons, I did decide to break off that relationship, and looking back I'd say that it was the right thing for me to do.

That same year, as a freshman, a few older students began thinking I was gay, and decided to make my life a living hell because of that. They began routinely picking on me, calling me “queer”, “faggot”, “homo”, or any other derogatory word used to describe a homosexual. And I was routinely reminded by the persons branding me with these labels that they hated me and everyone else like me. I was put in my place rather well by a few of them, and on more than one occasion. Even still, I tried my best to pretend that I wasn't gay. I was in denial. Or, actually, I was confused. I actually did have a girlfriend during eighth grade—the same time I was secretly having sex with that other guy—and I liked her a lot. I was never attracted to her, but I liked her. Maybe I was even in love with her. Maybe that's why it hurt as much as it did when she broke up with me. And there were other girls I considered dating as well. Usually they were friends who'd fall for me, and who I'd regrettably toy around with just long enough so that other people would think I liked them and was therefore NOT a homosexual. I wanted to prove myself to be just like everybody else. After all, who really wants to be gay? I never did. But after that freshmen year, things did improve. In short, I left high school much better than I entered it.

My first year in college, I decided to face facts for the first time and admitted to myself that I was a homosexual. I was attracted to other guys, I'd had sex with one of them, I'd already been looking up gay pornography for about a year or so, and I just wasn't interested in girls whatsoever. Unfortunately, I allowed that realization to blanket my life under a dark layer of clouds. I became very depressed. I was miserable with myself. I hated that I was gay, and I blamed God—at least partially—for that, and I just felt so alone. I couldn't tell anyone. I couldn't talk about what I was going through. No one seemed safe to go to for support. I felt trapped and isolated, and I hated who I was and all those past things I'd done. I felt so much regret. I hated the fact that I'd had sex. I actually tried to, and was successful for awhile, at blocking those experiences nearly completely from my mind. I knew it happened, but I tried to pretend as though it hadn't. I felt so torn and confused.

I eventually began contemplating suicide. I had it all figured out. I'd drive myself right off a cliff and wreck and die and all my troubles would be over and done with. My miserable life of conflicts and loneliness would be no more. I had just become so tired, and was so frustrated, that killing myself seemed to be the only logical thing to do. I couldn't find or think of any other way out. It seemed as though this was my only option.

I remember begging and pleading God to help me. I blamed Him for making me gay. I actually believed that He had. I believed He had messed up with me, that He'd made a mistake, and I let Him know how I felt about that. I believed He was being unfair with me, and that He was torturing me, and had turned His back on me from the very beginning. I just couldn't understand why it would be so wrong for me to have a boyfriend. I couldn't understand why it was so wrong of me to be so drawn to other men. I couldn't understand why He'd consider that to be something sinful.

Eventually, I decided I needed to make a few decisions. One, I wanted to live, so I'd better get the idea of suicide out of my head completely and start living my life better than I had. Two, I didn't want to blame God for something I'm sure He'd have never purposefully made me and then condemned me for being. Three, I wanted to obey God, and refrain from acting out on my homosexual desires in the future. I realized that when I didn't give in, I felt better about myself, and I felt closer to God. That is what sin does, by the way... it separates us from God. When you give up sinning, you draw closer to Him. So, I determined never to have another homosexual relationship for as long as I live.

I felt good about my decisions for about two or three years. Then, my brother found out I was gay. He was the first person to ever truly know this about me. It happened due to my own carelessness. He'd come across some gay pornography I used to have, and so it was pretty clear cut and dry that he knew. I couldn't weasel my way out of it. I couldn't deny it or pretend anymore. At least not with him. He confronted me about this, and in not the best of ways, but his confrontation sparked in me an urge to obey God more thoroughly than I ever had. I decided to give up pornography. I also decided to try to change. I felt in my heart that with God I could change. And I wanted to change.

I eventually, out of some desperation for help, came across Exodus International, who as it turned out, promoted the message that one could possibly change from gay to straight. Now, my decision to want to change, was mostly due to a desire in my heart for a family. I'd love to be able to find a woman I could fall in love with, and have kids with, and to grow old sharing my life with her. At the same time, I could say that I'd like to share my life with another man, but this dream is greater than that one.

During this last year, I've been trying to change my sexual orientation. I do, however, seem to be failing miserably to do that. There have been times when I truly have been attracted to girls. And I've also had times when I wasn't attracted to other guys at all. However, those attractions always seem to keep coming back. I am still gay. Even though this hasn't worked very well for me so far, I won't go as far as to say that it can't work for anyone else. With God, all things are possible. Even this, I think. And as much as I'd like to just give up and be gay sometimes, I still have that hope that it's possible for me. One change that has been permanent so far is my attitudes towards other guys and myself. I don't see them as unreachable anymore. I see them as potential friends. I also see myself being more like them than I ever used to think I was. I don't feel as different as I used to.

I look to God for strength and support. Sometimes I need Him so desperately in my life. I can feel so conflicted and frustrated with myself. I can feel so lonely and also so very tempted. I realize now that there's a great possibility I'll never have that family of my own. And that bothers me greatly sometimes. I hate the thought of always having to live alone. And the temptations bother me. I hate meeting a guy for the first time and instantly having that thought about how good looking he is. I feel torn in two. I know the very thing I want is the very thing I cannot have. I know that I want to be friends with other guys, but I tend to distance myself from them whenever I find myself attracted to them. Then there's the regrets. I feel so much regret for so many things I've done in my life. I hate the fact that I slept with that other guy. The thought of that really does bother me sometimes. I hate that I've looked up, and continue to keep looking up from time to time, so much pornography. I hate that I've pushed away so many people for fear of them getting close enough to me to find out that I might not be perfect, but gay. I hate so many things about my life.

I know God loves me though. I can hold onto that, if nothing else. I know that no matter what I do or how I feel about myself, no matter how rejected or abused I may feel, He'll always care deeply for me. He'll always be there for me, no matter what. And I know I'm forgiven for all those terrible things I've done. I don't know where this life is going to lead me, but I hope it'll always take me further and further toward God. I struggle with the fact that I'm gay. I deny that fact quite a bit usually, but it is true. I like other guys. But as much as other guys do it for me, none of them do it for me like God does. And I'll choose Him any day over anyone or anything else of this world.

“God, I may be gay, but I'm yours.”

When I look back on my life, I can't help but remember so many things. There were times when I was a kid that I wished I'd been born a girl. I played dress up occasionally. I've struggled to have a relationship with my dad. Sometimes I can feel really close to him, and other times I can feel so far away. I've always liked interior design—up to a certain extent (yeah, I hate to fit that cliché). And I've always felt it easier to relate to girls than other guys. I've hurt a lot of people. Some intentionally, others not—usually not. I've struggled to fit in at my church. I've resisted a lot of things the good Lord has wanted of me. I've struggled a great deal on whether or not to tell anyone in my family about my past and current struggles. There's just so much I could tell. But, for now, this is my story. It's not by any means my whole story, but it's a start.