I wrote this for those of you who may be in the same situation. Also, I hope this opens the eyes of those who could be inflicting the same damage on their child, I want them to see what their child might be going through. Although it may seem as though I am referencing a specific audience, I want this to reach others who need to hear this.
Coming out to my parents
Coming out to my friends was an easy task. I didn’t worry about how they would react, I didn’t worry about putting our friendships on the line, and I knew that they would support me no matter what, and if they didn’t, I was fine with losing a friend or two. But that mentality did not hold up as well when it came to my devout Christian parents.
I was 17, and still going to church with my parents. We prayed every night before going to bed, every car ride before going to school, and at every meal. We read, studied, and talked in depth about Bible verses taking them to heart and applied them to our lives. It was a Wednesday night and we were at our normal midweek service. At this point, I had thought many times before,
Why do I need to keep going to church?
Why am I being forced to do something that I don’t want to do?
Why am I here if they teach that being gay is wrong and you’ll go to hell for it?
I didn’t see any reason to go to church except for the sole reason of obeying my parents and making them happy. I was afraid that my wants, desires, and decisions would disturb the peace in my family. I feared that who I am, who I might become would break the family apart. I wanted to prevent tension, grief, and pain so as a consequence I decided to hide a part of myself from them. I decided that my true self was not safe, was not enough for them to love. But that night, all of this pent up pain and anger exploded out from me. I told my parents that I didn’t want to be there anymore I didn’t want to go to church anymore. They were outraged, confused, and overcome with sorrow. How could their own son, raised by two Christian parents, not want to go to church anymore? How could he not believe in God?
After a long, heated car ride back, we sat down. I had to give them an answer, but I didn’t want to tell them I was gay because I knew they weren’t ready, I knew I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to confront them about my sexuality. I wasn’t ready to embrace the anticipated pain that would come with coming out to them. I wasn’t ready to be the reason why grief crept into our lives as a family. I knew all of this and yet after a long, heated car ride back, we sat down. I had to give them an answer. We sat in the living for what felt like hours. Sitting across from each other I had beat around the bush pressured and anxious from my parents silence. I couldn’t tell what they were thinking, I couldn’t tell if they knew that this was my coming out moment, that I was trying to tell them I am gay. I sat, fumbling over my words not sure where to start, not sure if I should come up with a lie in order to get out of this mess I had made.
Maybe it was desperation, a longing for all of this to go away, giving in to exhaustion from pretending to be someone who I wasn’t. Maybe it was hope, the 1% chance that my parents would be completely fine and accepting of me being gay. Maybe I came out to them that night even though they weren’t ready because I realized they would never really be ready for it. But whatever it was, my mouth was able to form the sentence hesitantly,
“I am gay.”
This moment in time, this exact moment seems to be ingrained in my head. Every time I think of it, it’s like the memory plays in slow motion, fresh as if it had happened yesterday. Immediately after telling them, I felt the house change, I felt a certain click that was off-putting. I looked at my mom and I saw more than just tears, I saw mourning, I saw confusion, I saw disbelief. I looked at my father and saw anguish, saw sorrow, saw pain. At this moment, all the hope that I had clung to vanished. I could read their thoughts as if the words were pouring out of their mind.
I can’t believe this.
What is happening right now?
Is this even possible?
What have I done wrong for this to happen?
I sat there, watching it all unfold. Although I knew they were thinking these things, I didn’t want to say anymore because I didn’t want to hurt them more than I already have.
I had thought that the years of being in the closet, years of forcing myself to go to church, years of self depreciation, years of hating and wanting to change myself would hurt more. But that night, my heart had never hurt more.
Understanding my journey and their journey
Everyone takes on a different journey. My journey with finding my identity and self acceptance is different than my parents. I have had days and nights, hours and minutes to sort through the complexities of this internal conflict. A journey that is a straight path, is not a journey. A journey goes through and around hills and slopes, twists and turns, dead ends and u-turns and it’s not short either. For me, I had always known I was different. Growing up most of my friends were girls. I would play house with them, I would play family, and kitchen. I never wanted to play sports with the guys because it just didn’t interest me. Also, I had crushes on other boys. I wanted to hold hands with other boys but I knew that wasn’t seen as right. I never told my parents because I was specifically told that it wasn’t allowed, it was a sin. I had never seen boys kiss or hold hands, it just wasn’t possible in my mind. I just wasn’t able to fathom it, it did not exist—gay people did not exist in my world.
As I grew older, I started to experience a strong sense of self denial. Countless times I tried convincing myself that I was attracted to the opposite sex, that I can change my sexuality if I put enough effort into it. I couldn’t accept the fact that I was gay no matter what I tried. Fear overcame my mind, scared of how my parents would act if they found out.
I can’t do this to my parents.
My parents are going to be disappointed in me.
I wanted to make myself into the perfect son for them. I wanted to have the best grades for them, wanted to be the best musician for them. I wanted to devote myself to God and be a disciple for them. I wanted to rid myself of being gay for them. And most of all I wanted to change who I was completely for them. Everything I did, everything I tried to do was to make my parents happy, it was to show my gratitude to them for all they had done. I wanted my parents to know that I was grateful, but how could I look like a grateful child to them if I was gay?
In 8th grade I became a little more accepting of my sexuality, claiming that I was bi. In fact, I almost had a relationship with another guy. But summer came around and It dawned on me that, after seeing my brother get baptized, I would never be able to show gratitude to my parents and make them truly joyful if I never became a disciple, if I never got baptized. So, I set my goals on being a devout Christian my freshman and sophomore year. It was not hard for me to set myself up for success in looking like I was ready to study the bible. I knew all the right answers, I knew what to say, and how to say it around other Chirstians, strangers, and most of all my parents. I knew how to manipulate my way around in order to look like the perfect Christian. To look like the perfect son who was able to make his parents proud. I covered myself with lies, creating a fake act that I only knew of. But, something clicked in my head when I started studying the bible.
Why am I doing this again?
Why was I putting myself through something that I didn’t even want?
Why was I putting myself through more pain, sorrow, and hurt?
Why was I going to commit to a lifetime contract that was only meant to make my parents happy, and not me?.
At this moment in life, I realized the main reason why my heart hurt, the main reason why I was depressed and unstable. Everything that I had dedicated myself to was for my parents. I was going to church for them, I was praying for them, I was reading and studying the Bible for them. Following God, following Christianity was planted, cultivated, and harvested in my life for them because of them. I didn’t have an ounce of myself in any of the decisions I made. Even though it may seem to my parents that these decisions were my decisions that would help my future. That was because they believed their choices, what they wanted for me, were the best route for me to take. In their eyes, there was no alternate path in this journey for me. If I wanted to show gratitude to them, show them love, I had to follow in their direction. All of the pressure that I was feeling, all of the stress that was being put on me, all of the hurt, sorrow, and pain that I was enduring made me snap. Many nights I went to bed with a heartache that no 11 year old should be able to feel. A heartache that hurt enough to cause me to consider suicide. The fear of letting my parents down because of failure (and in my eyes being gay was a failure) was strong enough to meditate on running away. I was tired of coming home, tired of being someone who I wasn’t, I was tired of having to pretend, tired of acting out my life. I was so used to being focused on fulfilling my parents wishes that I was not able to see my own heart hurting. I wasn’t able to see how it was affecting me.
In regards to my parents’ journey, I had to take the time to understand that they were (and still are) devoted believers in Jesus and that Christianity is a part of who they are, it is their identity. I had to understand that they won’t change years of devotion and belief overnight like a light switch. How are they going to deal with this situation? How can they fix it? What can they do to make it better? Where are they supposed to go from here on out? They too have to go through a journey of acceptance and sort through their own internal conflict. They too need time just like I needed time. And no one moves as one unit, one may take longer on their journey and one might have an easier time.
When I came out to my parents as gay, things did not really change in favor of my hopes. In the early stages, my parents still wanted me to go to church and to pray. This was another transition that they had to accustom to besides me being gay. I had made the decision, myself, that I will not go to church, I will not pray with them anymore, and I will not affiliate myself with any kind of organized religion. All of this was new to my parents and they were being hit with it all at once. They needed time to adjust (and still need time to adjust). They found it hard to say the word ‘gay’, so when referring to my sexuality they would instead use the terms ‘homosexuality’, ‘same sex attraction’, and being a ‘homosexual’. This disturbed me. It felt like I was being referred to as a scientific term, a wild animal rather than a human. However, I had to understand that they were not ready to say the term ‘gay’ and I was only able to hope that one day they would be able to accept the term.
2 years later, my parents are in different positions. My father has changed quite a bit. He is able to talk comfortably about me being gay, he’s able to say the word ‘gay,’ and he’s willing to learn more about the LGBTQ+ community. I find him, quite often, coming to me asking questions about topics about bisexuality, pansexuality, transgender, queer, gender fluidity, the difference between sex and gender, etc. He asks questions with genuine curiosity such as how does being gay work (sex questions, is it all just hooking up?). What terms do you use (i.e. top, bottom). I add “is it all just hooking up” because the church (at least my church) is ignorant to LGBTQ+ culture. Being raised as a kingdom kid (God’s kingdom, that is) I was only taught that gays live one way. They have sex with each other and never get married, never have a family, and never find a significant other. The church teaches it’s people to think of being gay as a “lifestyle” that can be chosen to be followed. In fact, my father wants to bridge the gap that their church has with the LGBTQ+ community. He wants to open their eyes, teach them, and show them what he has experienced and gone through. In fact, my dad wants to go to the Austin Pride parade. Don’t get me wrong, he still is growing and going through his journey, but he is willing to ask me and see what changes he needs to make in order to show his love not only towards me but towards the LGBTQ+ community.
Now, every person is different when it comes to any kind of journey. And it happens to be that it has taken longer for my mom. After 2 years, it has been quite stagnant in my eyes. Being in denial she still struggles with accepting that I am gay. She still struggles with accepting my intolerance for anything remotely religious, anything affiliated with the church or with God
What it is like being gay with a devoted Christian mother
My mom has given me the hardest time and none of the questions I ask have answers to them. Even now, I still ponder them occasionally hoping to find an answer. Being openly gay to my mom is…different. We both know that I’m gay, but between us it’s like the elephant in the room that no one wants to address. We can never agree on the same thing when it comes to me being gay, and I don’t think we ever will. The main reason being that we have two completely different views, opinions, and beliefs. The second reason is the hardship of giving up tradition and accepting change.
I’m not really going to talk about my side of things because you can probably guess where I stand on the subject of matter. To list it out: I don’t want any affiliation with the church, with God, with any organized religion, I don’t want to be forced to partake in any religious events and activities, I just want parents who are accepting, loving, and willing to support any decision I make. But this hasn’t been the case with my mother. For her, she does not know any other way to show her love for me except through her own love and devotion to God. She shows her love to me by praying for me day and night, by sending me scriptures everyday of the week, sharing her knowledge about what is ‘wrong’ and what is ‘right’ in accordance to the bible. And I appreciate that she is trying to love me in the way she knows how to love. I’d rather be showered with some kind of love rather than to be hated and casted out. But I can’t help but ask myself:
Is this really the only way you can show me love?
The only way you can show me love is by sharing words that I don’t believe in, words and a religion that has caused me so much pain?
Is the only way you can show me love is by trying your hardest to indoctrinate me into your beliefs?
Everyday I am told by my mother that she loves me, and that God loves me. I am told that I would not be here if it weren’t for God, that I would not have made it this far if it were not for God. If it weren’t for God, I would probably have been thrown out of the house by my parents. That is how I see it.
Do you really love me? Or do you love me because God loves me?
The fault that I see in this is that there’s a devotion to God, a devotion to a religion so strong that you have been blinded to alternative paths. A devotion so strong that you can’t help yourself but to rely on a God built on belief and religious texts instead of trying to learn, adapt, and change. Wallowing in sorrow, pain, and heartache, you can pray all you want but it wouldn’t change a thing. I’m not going to wake up one day straight. I’m not going to wake up one day with the same love for your God and your religion. I’m not going to wake up one day and marry a woman for the sake of my love for God. Praying won’t do anything. You say that your heart aches because of the decisions that I am making in life. The decision to follow the gay ‘lifestyle.’ The decision to pursue my desire for a man. Being gay is not a lifestyle that I choose to live. Being gay is not a goal, an achievement that I choose to pursue. Although being gay isn’t everything to me (it’s not what makes me, me), it’s a part of who I am just like God is a part of who you are. Why should I have to marry a woman if that isn’t how I was made. Why can’t I marry a man just like you can marry a man. The only reason you can provide me with is the Bible (and I say reason because it really only mentions it once), which in my eyes means nothing.
I just want to know, and I may never see the answers to any of these questions, but you say that you’ll walk alongside me no matter what. However, tell me why these words ring hollow in my ears, tell me why I am not able to associate words with actions. This may be blatant, but sometimes the phrase, “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” is sometimes true and I just have to accept that fact. I have had to accept the fact that you may never be able to understand and accept me being gay, but your love for me is strong enough for you to cast aside your beliefs and that is enough for me. You respect my decisions and know that you can’t control me which is progress in my eyes. You may not say the term gay, you may be hesitant on bringing up the subject not only to me but to others. But despite all of that, you still tell me,
“I love you.”
I say all of this not out of spite, but out of hope that you’ll be able to understand, receive, and accept my words to heart. This is truly what lies deep within me. These are my deepest thoughts, emotions, and feelings. I don’t mean these words to cause harm, however, I must bring my side of things out and into the open.
Where am I now?
I love my parents, I love my life, and I love where I am going. I know I would not be where I am today if it weren’t for both of my parents. My parents have worked hard, have struggled, and have guided me through my messy life. It never ceases to amaze me just how much my parents have sacrificed for both my brother and I and I truly love them and see them for who they truly are. I know we have our differences in opinions, beliefs, and ways, but we do not allow those to break our family. I understand the struggle that both of you have gone through, a struggle that I have caused, and it makes me happy to see improvement, even just a tiny bit. I hope that you know just as you have told me:
I will be with the both of you every step of the way in your journey in hopes that it will make all of our lives better and happier.
Quick Update: Both my parents are going to Pride parade 🙂
Saturday 