Growing up Gay |
A Brief Glimpse Into My Past |
By Andy |
INTRODUCTION
"Nobody can go back and start a new ending, but anyone can start today and make a new ending"~ Maria Robinson
I have tried over and over again in my young life to go back and start over. Words of the prophets, church leaders, and parents have prompted me to try again and again, harder and harder, and with more fervor to rid myself of my homosexual attractions. However, I have learned—and continue to learn—that these attractions are a part of who I am. Whether these feelings come from God, come from Nature or come from Nurture, I do not know. What I do know is that the Lord loves me and will accept me for who I am, and not who I am attracted to. God and His Son love all their children—even those who are gay.
My Earliest Homosexual Memory
When I was five years old, I received a Ken Barbie doll from my parents. Remember, I was five. I had the same toys any five year old would have—a truck, Hot Wheels™ cars, action figures and the like. That being said, I felt differently when I played with Ken. I didn’t know what the difference was, but it was palpable and it was real.
Night after night, I would hide the doll under my pillow from the reaches and sneaky eyes of my parents. After I was put to bed, and after a considerable amount of time, I would wake up and take the doll from underneath my pillow. Slowly, I would undress him and kiss his body. Even then, as young as I was, I remember feeling excited, aroused and surprised by my own feelings. I did not know they were wrong as I had not been introduced to the meaning homosexuality in anyway.
Does this mean, since I was only five years old, that I was born gay? Does this mean that I was sexually molested in some way that only my subconscious knows? Does this mean that homosexuality was given to me by my Heavenly Father? The answer is an elusive one; one that I hope to find at some moment in my life.
Elementary School and Junior High
Since all the other boys around me liked girls, I thought that I must like them, too. I talked about boobs, tried to fantasize about boobs, and even “dated” a few girls in the 5th grade. Remember, I was a young, naïve boy. However, it wasn’t until I was in the 6th grade that I began to understand that I was not attracted to girls, but men.
It started when one of my friends was talking about masturbation. He informed me that he had caught his older brother in the privacy of his own room. When my friend told me that story, I couldn’t help but feel excited when I imagined this older boy. I dared not tell anyone, for the words “gay”, “faggot”, “queer” and “wrong” were all too familiar words in the vocabulary of 6th grade boys.
When I finally entered junior high, I could no longer deny my feelings. I tried to suppress them, but they were still there. I vividly remember having crushes on the older high school students and trying to become their friends at any opportunity [my high school and junior high shared the same building]. I did not play sports and this is when I began to be bullied in junior high and be ridiculed for being “gay”—even though I had not as much hissed a word of my sexual orientation to anyone. Life became easier, though, when high school came around and I eventually told my parents.
Coming Out to my Parents and Friends
Before I decided to tell my parents, I had told a few choice other people: I had informed my (1) cousin (2) my best friend Hannah (3) my “girl-friend” and lastly, (4) my bishop. Every single person I told was extremely positive and loving. They accepted me for me and for who I was. Granted, even though I do believe that my best friend and my bishop thought that my homosexual attraction was simply a phase I was going through, they tried to build me up and provide healthy support.
Looking back, I remember building up the courage to tell my mother. I had written a letter to give to her on Thanksgiving in 2003. I do not know why I chose that date, but I soon learned that I would give her the letter much sooner. We were watching a documentary about Mormon missionaries. My mother leaned over to me and said, “I just can’t wait until you become a missionary.”
My heart stopped.
At that time in my life, I believed that someone who was attracted to their own gender could not even serve a mission. Sadly, there was a time in the church’s history when the idea of a homosexually oriented missionary would have prevented him from serving. I still thought that I would not be able to serve because I was gay. I went into my bedroom, grabbed the letter, and gave it to my mother.
She went into her room and closed the door.
About two hours later, I knocked on her door. I could tell that she had been crying. I lay on her bed, not knowing what to say. Shame, guilt, and fear where ebbing at the edges of my heart, threatening to collapse my very being.
I quickly asked, “Mom…do you hate me?”
She looked me directly in the eyes and lovingly responded, “Andy…I could never hate you. You are my son, and I love you.”
I sobbed. I was so afraid that my mother would hate or disown me. Later that night, my father talked to me in my bedroom and gave me sage advice of the life of a homosexual. Truth be told, my father had held onto the older ideals of the Church, and some of his words were hurtful. However, throughout the rest of my life and as I have become older, my father and mother have both been extremely supportive of me.
Simply put: my coming out process was filled with love, support, and guidance from my Heavenly Father. I will always be indebted to my parents for the people they are, and the example of Christ-like attributes they continue to show me.
The Mission
Thankfully, I was able to serve full-time mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Those two years were truly some of the best years of my life.
Throughout my mission, I served with excellent young men. Some of them have become my best friends. Because of the experiences we shared on the mission and the bond that we created allowed for a comfortable atmosphere in which I could share my life story. Interestingly enough, I came out to 5 of the 12 companions I served with while on my mission. They never batted an eye, or called me names, or hated me. With true, Christ-like love, they all extended a hand of fellowship and brotherhood to me regardless of who I was attracted to.
As I recall those years, I have often wondered, “Why were these young men so accepting of me?” I can only come to a few conclusions:
1. The missionaries who I told also experience same-gender attraction—unlikely (as they are all married to women now) but possible.
2. The missionaries I told may have previously known a brother, friend or acquaintance who is gay.
3. The missionaries I told where striving to be like Christ and they understood that God loves all His children.
I choose the last option. These young boys who I served with were all upstanding individuals. They understood who I was and more importantly, who I was in the eyes of the Lord. They did not disown or hate me because I was attracted to my own gender; rather, they loved and cared for me just as they would anyone else.
I have a firm belief, that as the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints continues to show forth love, care and appreciation to the GLBT community, members will follow suit. Ironically, most members of the Church who are accepting of gay people are the younger generation—the chosen generation.
College and Trying to Change
When I was accepted to BYU, I was ecstatic. I had heard wonderful stories of outstanding men and women who were serving faithfully in the Church—even though they were gay. I had even heard stories of great men and women who are agreed to leave the Church of their own choice to choose a life in which they could have same-gender partners. I wanted to be a part of that community; a community of love and appreciation.
After two months of finding new friends, I came out to them. They were all accepting and loving. Their opinion of Andy the human being did not change when they found out that I was attracted to the same gender. All of these friends continue to provide me peace and support through the rough times and challenges of life that I face. My friends are unmovable forces in a life that seems to constantly be in motion. I love them and they love me for me.
There was, however, a period in my early college life that I had decided that I was ready to change and be attracted to women. I met with a BYU licensed psychologist and even met with Jeffery R. Robinson—a prominent LDS psychologist who specializes in helping gay men “change”. After multiple sessions and ideas, I found that my attraction to men did not decrease—only my “obsession” with it lessened. Those experiences have led me to believe that trying to “change” or “be cured” from homosexuality is highly unlikely. As I tried to shut out those feelings, I felt as if they became stronger. As I tried to contort my attractions to fit the LDS mold, I become more estranged from my friends, family and God. After a horrible time of trying to change and be like everyone else, I decided to stop trying to change and be the person God intended me to be.
Focusing on “What?” and not “Why?” or “How?”
Many people, gay or straight—religious or not—have tried to find out the root cause of homosexuality. The current LDS position on this idea is that they simply do not know what causes this attraction. For me, that is enough. I do not have to know if God made be this way, if I was born with it, if it is genetic, or if it is a choice. It does not matter.
Just recently, I have come to the conclusion that if I want to have a happy and meaningful life when it comes to expressing my sexuality and accepting who I am, I need to stop focusing on the “Why?” or “How?” and focus on the “What?”.
Instead of trying to figure out why God gives homosexual attractions to His children (if He does), I have decided to try and understand WHAT God wants me to do with my life and who to become.
This simple change of attitude and change of thinking has eased the burden of “struggling” with homosexuality ten-fold. Instead of beating myself up over the unanswerable question of HOW or WHY, I simply am searching for my purpose.
Does this mean that God wants me to have a wife and children? Does this mean that God wants me to find a partner and life a monogamous, but fulfilling gay life? Does this mean that God wants me to live alone for the rest of my life? I do not know. I am searching for the answer. I feel as if it may take years—or my entire life—to find out WHAT God wants me to do.
CONCLUSION
Whatever the answer may be, being a homosexual and a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is not a death sentence. You can find happiness, peace and joy in life as you learn to understand WHAT God wants you to do. I personally believe that it does not matter what your parents say, what your friends say, or what your ecclesiastical leaders say: what matters is what God has to say. Lean on Him and His Son, and your life will be filled with goodness, happiness and peace.
We may not know the answer to all things, but we do know this: “God loveth His children” (1 Nephi 11:17).
And He does love you.
I guarantee it.
