This is an anonymous submission to my blog. Enjoy!
At first, I was depressed about my attraction to women. I was dealing with a number of things at once, and this added to my depression. As if those things weren’t enough, facing outright homophobia on a regular basis made life nearly unbearable. I remembered every single homophobic comment delivered by my peers and family. I was terrified, and hated myself and my feelings. How could I have feelings for the same sex, despite what I had been taught about homosexuality, and what it means to love God? I continued to pray and draw near to God, but I came to a realization. I had always been attracted to women, and I always would be. It was a fundamental part of who I was.
After attending a SAGA meeting, I decided to come out. I felt empowered in the presence of beautiful LGBTQ people who were proud of who they were. I was nervous. What would my parents, friends, and church community think? I had been grappling with my sexuality, and this question, for months.
After coming out, I expected people to abandon me and have my world shaken to its core. I prepared for lonely nights and long speeches about my lack of salvation, indeed my damnation. But this fear turned out to be inflated. Most people could see me as human first, because I was more than just queer. These precious people loved me for who I was, regardless of their ideas about the LGBTQ community. This was exactly what I needed, and it has sustained me through an intensely stressful period of understanding myself. I have spent enough time hating, judging, and criticizing myself. I need unconditional positive regard, rather than anger, judgement, and isolation.
That is not to say, however, that everyone has welcomed my new public identity with open arms. Close friends and family have had to tell me the “hard truth” about my imminent journey to hell. Unfortunately, I sometimes let those voices be the loudest. I let them condemn me, even though they lack the power to do so. At one point I even wanted to be dead rather than queer. I remember standing in Chapel, unusually unable to enjoy the music and my time with God. I felt the words, the lyrics, and the energy of the place condemning me to hell. It was if I was being mocked. “See how God loves straight people, but you, you are dust. She doesn't love you. How could she?” I left feeling dejected, unloved, and desperate for God. I could not survive thinking that my creator didn’t love me, and that She wanted to banish me to hell. But these thoughts were ungrounded. I had let the words of others become a sort of god to me. In reality, God was calling me to herself. She was saying that I was her child and she is proud of me. God wasn’t shocked or concerned that I identify as queer. God made me that way, and is teaching me to love and accept myself as I am, just as She does with everyone.
My journey is ongoing. I have yet to arrive in a place where I can wholly embrace myself. Some days are better than others, but I seek to learn to love myself as unconditionally as God does. I am not sure whether I was meant to be celibate, marry a guy, or be in a homosexual relationship. I am not sure what is right, but I don't have to know right now. I can take each day to learn and to be the woman God created me to be. That’s all God asks of me, to serve her kingdom. As scripture that offers me the most comfort is, “28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30) God is freeing me of my burden. Her yoke easy. Her arms are strong and provide comfort on this journey that I am on. God takes my brokeness and makes into beauty.
At first, I was depressed about my attraction to women. I was dealing with a number of things at once, and this added to my depression. As if those things weren’t enough, facing outright homophobia on a regular basis made life nearly unbearable. I remembered every single homophobic comment delivered by my peers and family. I was terrified, and hated myself and my feelings. How could I have feelings for the same sex, despite what I had been taught about homosexuality, and what it means to love God? I continued to pray and draw near to God, but I came to a realization. I had always been attracted to women, and I always would be. It was a fundamental part of who I was.
After attending a SAGA meeting, I decided to come out. I felt empowered in the presence of beautiful LGBTQ people who were proud of who they were. I was nervous. What would my parents, friends, and church community think? I had been grappling with my sexuality, and this question, for months.
After coming out, I expected people to abandon me and have my world shaken to its core. I prepared for lonely nights and long speeches about my lack of salvation, indeed my damnation. But this fear turned out to be inflated. Most people could see me as human first, because I was more than just queer. These precious people loved me for who I was, regardless of their ideas about the LGBTQ community. This was exactly what I needed, and it has sustained me through an intensely stressful period of understanding myself. I have spent enough time hating, judging, and criticizing myself. I need unconditional positive regard, rather than anger, judgement, and isolation.
That is not to say, however, that everyone has welcomed my new public identity with open arms. Close friends and family have had to tell me the “hard truth” about my imminent journey to hell. Unfortunately, I sometimes let those voices be the loudest. I let them condemn me, even though they lack the power to do so. At one point I even wanted to be dead rather than queer. I remember standing in Chapel, unusually unable to enjoy the music and my time with God. I felt the words, the lyrics, and the energy of the place condemning me to hell. It was if I was being mocked. “See how God loves straight people, but you, you are dust. She doesn't love you. How could she?” I left feeling dejected, unloved, and desperate for God. I could not survive thinking that my creator didn’t love me, and that She wanted to banish me to hell. But these thoughts were ungrounded. I had let the words of others become a sort of god to me. In reality, God was calling me to herself. She was saying that I was her child and she is proud of me. God wasn’t shocked or concerned that I identify as queer. God made me that way, and is teaching me to love and accept myself as I am, just as She does with everyone.
My journey is ongoing. I have yet to arrive in a place where I can wholly embrace myself. Some days are better than others, but I seek to learn to love myself as unconditionally as God does. I am not sure whether I was meant to be celibate, marry a guy, or be in a homosexual relationship. I am not sure what is right, but I don't have to know right now. I can take each day to learn and to be the woman God created me to be. That’s all God asks of me, to serve her kingdom. As scripture that offers me the most comfort is, “28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30) God is freeing me of my burden. Her yoke easy. Her arms are strong and provide comfort on this journey that I am on. God takes my brokeness and makes into beauty.
