I usually head to porn when I'm stressed, anxious, confused, tired. My counselor once asked me if I go to porn to feel power, to be in control. My first response was no — I don't feel powerful at all when I seek out porn. I feel weak and helpless. But maybe there is a control aspect to my porn usage.
One night, I had a sexual dream about one of the male cabin leaders. I didn't want my past to ruin the summer and my connections with the other male staff. On several previous occasions, telling my story had helped me break down some of the awkwardness I felt. So, I grabbed the cabin leader supervisor and shared my story with him.
The seemingly deepest parts of my life are on display for the world to see. And yet there are a few things that I keep close — secret — from those closest to me. Because I am afraid of being vulnerable with them. I'm not talking about "coming out" — I'm talking about the matters at my very core that influence my actions in ways few could ever imagine.
Joshua Harris pastored my church for over ten years. To our surprise, he recently announced he is divorcing his wife and and that he is no longer a Christian! Additionally, he has adopted a "Side A" gay-affirming belief. Despite all this drama and the church's many other issues, this place has been of some help to guys dealing with same-sex attraction.
Right on cue, in walks that cute guy again. Instantly, I'm back to spiraling, back to wondering if this faith thing can really work out in the end, or if I'm actually as crazy as I sound when I tell someone I'm pursuing celibacy. It's in these moments that God feels like the eternal God of "no" — no sex, no boyfriend, no husband, no romance, no intimacy. No love. God becomes the God who won't let me eat the fruit from the one tree I'm craving, instead of the God who provided an entire garden just for me.
Stories have power, and people love them for it. As such, that power can misused. The power of a story can be wielded in a way that causes untold damage and pain. As I've done more and more to reach LGBTQ+ individuals outside the church, I've had to face a stark reality: Christians have abused select people's stories to the detriment of the Gospel.
"God has placed us together for a specific reason — that the times, stories, and experiences we share are beneficial for each other," she said. This led to discussion about how community requires vulnerability. Even with a wide open invitation, I remained a silent listener in the community.
As a kid, I said a lot of derogatory things about LGBTQ+ people. I cringe at the things I remember saying. When I realized I was gay, all of that hatred that I showed to others turned in on myself. That realization drove me to reparative therapy. The logic makes sense: I hate gay people, I am gay — thus, I need to not be gay.
I'm queer. That is how I now identify my sexuality. And it's how I can best define my experience of gender, too. In my pursuit to grow more like Christ, I was setting aside part of my life as a mystery spot. How could I submit my sexuality to Christ if I didn't even know what it was?
A point came in our relationship when I realized just how dependent I was on him and just how one-sided our friendship was. For my own well-being, I needed to step away from the relationship. What follows is the lament and reflection I wrote in saying "goodbye" to our friendship.