I hear a lot of people saying how much they love gay people, before condemning their loves. And I have no doubt that they do love us. Or at least, some anti-gay people who claim to love us, actually do feel love towards those they don't agree with. But you don't have to hate us, in order to hurt us.
We have all accidentally hurt those we love, and been accidentally hurt by people who love us. So why would this issue be any different?
I really don't like the LGBT campaigns that say "No H8" and such like that, because the emotion of hate is not the issue.
Slave owners claimed to love their slaves. Segregationists claimed to love "Negros." Anti-suffragists loved their wives and daughters. But they all hurt people, and in all these cases, hurting people was considered biblical. The bible was "clear." But we as a society decided not to hurt people, and now conservative Christians are claiming credit for what in earlier times they would have denounced as liberal and unbiblical.
So please remember, every time you say something against us or try to pass a law that makes us miserable, that you don't have to hate someone, to hurt them. You don't have to wave a "God Hates Fags" sign or murder another Matthew Sheppard to cause harm. Most of the pain I have experienced has been inflicted by those who seemed truly loving. And many Christians have loved their gay children before losing them to suicide.
If I could, I would replace all of these slogans about hate with this one: You don't have to hate, to harm.
Monday, December 18, 2017
Dear Homophobes: I Used To Be You, Part 2 of 2
Continued from Part One
Note: When telling my story, I am reliving a lot of heavy emotions, so please bear with me if there are some typos. I have tried to catch them all. Please don't dismiss my story because there are typos.
I was about thirteen at the time, trying so hard to be close to God, but I was still uneasy at many things in the bible. I was uneasy at the thought of extra rules for women--we can't be pastors, must submit to husbands, in some circles can't wear pants--when it was God who had decided to give them vaginas.
Why would God make me something, that wasn't the best to be? Why would God make me for a submissive "role" which did not come naturally to me? I wanted to be a strong and courageous woman, and only answer to God. I wanted to be close to God, and not be conflicted if I felt called to do something my husband didn't like.
If it was better to be a man, and have your freedom to do what you actually felt called to do or that you're good at--even if it was to be a pastor--and not have to submit to a spouse, then why did God make me a woman? He claimed to love me, but that was hurtful.
And why did he forbid love if the genders weren't right? How terrible it was to be gay, to never have love or sex! I had heard that even with conversion therapy, it was a lifelong struggle against temptation. At least straight people could be tempted by the same gender as their spouse, and therefore have their spouse to help. I was secretly glad I wasn't gay. And I felt sorry for them, and uneasy at my own privilege. If someone had confronted me on how much better I had it, with at least the hope of love someday, I didn't know what I would do.
I remember my mom saying at this time, "What if two gay people can make a covenant before God, without sex, just like they did in biblical times? It's probably hard to live together and not have sex, but I'm sure they could do it."
I secretly thought that maybe they shouldn't have to, when straight people didn't have it so hard, but I was afraid of that thought. I would banish such thoughts from my mind, often with a prayer of apology.
I wrote a letter to the editor of the local paper, saying that a proposed statue of a Greek goddess was an idol and that soon people would be forced to worship it. I was that scared of the end of the world, or that society would become more and more wicked. I was afraid of persecution, and not just if the gays got rights.
I read through the whole bible for the first time. I saw a pro-life God say, "Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks." I read about how He killed David's baby for David's sin. About adulterous women being punished with "a miscarrying womb and dry breasts." Babies were dying because of their mothers' sins. Babies that He had knit in the womb, just to die there.
There were many beautiful and awe-inspiring things in the bible, but it began to look more and more like some passages were the product of sinful and barbaric Man. I became increasingly uneasy. I did not like that thought, and resisted it with all my might. Not only was I afraid of backsliding, sin, and hell, but also that what I had been taught all my life wasn't true. What was reality anymore? Was I going crazy?
At fifteen I was on a panel for teens published in the local newspaper. One of the questions asked was, "What do you think of Dumbledore being gay?" I was afraid of the Harry Potter books at that time, but I knew he was a character in one. I was not sure how I felt about gay issues, or how I was allowed to feel, anymore. I had heard that some people thought Paul was referring to pedophilia instead, because of the culture and the Greek word he used, but I was afraid to commit to an opinion on it. I was afraid that doing that would make me wrong in God's eyes. I hoped I didn't have to hurt people, but I didn't see a way out of it.
So I simply said, "I don't know who Dumbledore even is, but if he's gay and happy with himself, more power to him! His lifestyle doesn't affect my life, so why should I worry about it?" The word limit was around 150, and I had only said around 30. I usually went over.
Around this time, I read in a conservative Christian school textbook that there were different ways scholars believe God inspired the bible, and only one involved literally dictating every word. I rejoiced! The bible finally made sense! Of course it was sinful Man who oppressed women and hurt gays! I should have known all along! Of course God wouldn't hurt people. And now I didn't have to.
I kept my discovery to myself, because of my argumentative, homophobic uncle. He yelled and screamed, and acted like I was a Satanist every time I expressed the smallest disagreement. He dismissed my great love of God and my constant search for the truth, whatever it is. And that hurt very deeply. Even if I was mistaken, surely God knew that my heart was sincere? Wouldn't God show me if I was wrong? Did he really need to yell and scream and hurt me like that?
I have been hurt a lot in my life, and I never want to hurt others again. I have had my story dismissed, as if all of my efforts to get close to God and to please him, have never happened. As if I never thought at thirteen that I would not live to be thirty because God wanted me to go the mission field and get killed. As if I had never tried to be okay with the thought of being tortured and raped for the Lord.
Someone like that doesn't wake up one day and say, "Forget God! I'm going to go sin!"
The majority of my life, from early childhood, has been erased by both loving and hateful Christians.
I am sure that the angry homophobes will find some excuse to dismiss me, but I know I have told the truth, and that I haven't worked harder at anything in my life, than to try to be a good Christian.
And maybe you, dear reader, will dismiss it and erase my experiences too, but I hope there's something in there that you identify with. I hope, even if you don't agree with my conclusions, that you don't dismiss my sincerity. I was literally told, from the time I could walk, that Christianity was the most important thing in the universe, so why would I not care if I failed at that?
And like I said, all this time, I thought I was straight. Maybe some of you think that being gay-affirming leads to being gay. But I don't think it does, because my first thought years later, after a girl got my heart racing the same way some guys did, was, "I can't be a lesbian! My life will be so much harder now!" I hoped it would go away, so I wouldn't have to come out to my conservative Christian family. It didn't go away.
And maybe you think the devil is cursing me, but now I wouldn't change myself if I could. I like myself as I am. I like knowing what I am. And I don't think that makes me any worse than a straight person who likes being straight. I didn't even choose this; it was actually quite a shock.
Please understand that this blog is truly a love letter. I used to be you. I write not only to you, but to my homophobic past self The girl who thought she was forced by a loving God to hurt people, including children and teens--and those who have been through Christian conversion therapy, and for whom it did not work.
I know how anti-gay Christians think. I used to be one. I know right now you're probably praying for the right words to reach me. But maybe you should be praying that we ALL find the truth, no matter what it is. Maybe you should be asking if there is any way to not hurt people--gays and others.
And yes, you are hurting us, if you are preaching an anti-gay message; I know how I feel, and I wouldn't wish how I've felt on my worst enemy. Inflicting it is not an act of love. It is cruel. And it is a cruel system, in which God burns people if you don't hurt them now--or is helpless to stop such a thing from happening. (It is also cruel and unfair, if only some people are treated this way, and for something most would never choose. If only some people have to choose between being hurt now, and hurting for eternity.)
Maybe there is a better way. Maybe it's not too good to be true. I know you're scared to hear this, I know you have blasphemy defenses up--but maybe you don't have to hurt us. Maybe things will be all right, even if you don't.
Note: When telling my story, I am reliving a lot of heavy emotions, so please bear with me if there are some typos. I have tried to catch them all. Please don't dismiss my story because there are typos.
I was about thirteen at the time, trying so hard to be close to God, but I was still uneasy at many things in the bible. I was uneasy at the thought of extra rules for women--we can't be pastors, must submit to husbands, in some circles can't wear pants--when it was God who had decided to give them vaginas.
Why would God make me something, that wasn't the best to be? Why would God make me for a submissive "role" which did not come naturally to me? I wanted to be a strong and courageous woman, and only answer to God. I wanted to be close to God, and not be conflicted if I felt called to do something my husband didn't like.
If it was better to be a man, and have your freedom to do what you actually felt called to do or that you're good at--even if it was to be a pastor--and not have to submit to a spouse, then why did God make me a woman? He claimed to love me, but that was hurtful.
And why did he forbid love if the genders weren't right? How terrible it was to be gay, to never have love or sex! I had heard that even with conversion therapy, it was a lifelong struggle against temptation. At least straight people could be tempted by the same gender as their spouse, and therefore have their spouse to help. I was secretly glad I wasn't gay. And I felt sorry for them, and uneasy at my own privilege. If someone had confronted me on how much better I had it, with at least the hope of love someday, I didn't know what I would do.
I remember my mom saying at this time, "What if two gay people can make a covenant before God, without sex, just like they did in biblical times? It's probably hard to live together and not have sex, but I'm sure they could do it."
I secretly thought that maybe they shouldn't have to, when straight people didn't have it so hard, but I was afraid of that thought. I would banish such thoughts from my mind, often with a prayer of apology.
I wrote a letter to the editor of the local paper, saying that a proposed statue of a Greek goddess was an idol and that soon people would be forced to worship it. I was that scared of the end of the world, or that society would become more and more wicked. I was afraid of persecution, and not just if the gays got rights.
I read through the whole bible for the first time. I saw a pro-life God say, "Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks." I read about how He killed David's baby for David's sin. About adulterous women being punished with "a miscarrying womb and dry breasts." Babies were dying because of their mothers' sins. Babies that He had knit in the womb, just to die there.
There were many beautiful and awe-inspiring things in the bible, but it began to look more and more like some passages were the product of sinful and barbaric Man. I became increasingly uneasy. I did not like that thought, and resisted it with all my might. Not only was I afraid of backsliding, sin, and hell, but also that what I had been taught all my life wasn't true. What was reality anymore? Was I going crazy?
At fifteen I was on a panel for teens published in the local newspaper. One of the questions asked was, "What do you think of Dumbledore being gay?" I was afraid of the Harry Potter books at that time, but I knew he was a character in one. I was not sure how I felt about gay issues, or how I was allowed to feel, anymore. I had heard that some people thought Paul was referring to pedophilia instead, because of the culture and the Greek word he used, but I was afraid to commit to an opinion on it. I was afraid that doing that would make me wrong in God's eyes. I hoped I didn't have to hurt people, but I didn't see a way out of it.
So I simply said, "I don't know who Dumbledore even is, but if he's gay and happy with himself, more power to him! His lifestyle doesn't affect my life, so why should I worry about it?" The word limit was around 150, and I had only said around 30. I usually went over.
Around this time, I read in a conservative Christian school textbook that there were different ways scholars believe God inspired the bible, and only one involved literally dictating every word. I rejoiced! The bible finally made sense! Of course it was sinful Man who oppressed women and hurt gays! I should have known all along! Of course God wouldn't hurt people. And now I didn't have to.
I kept my discovery to myself, because of my argumentative, homophobic uncle. He yelled and screamed, and acted like I was a Satanist every time I expressed the smallest disagreement. He dismissed my great love of God and my constant search for the truth, whatever it is. And that hurt very deeply. Even if I was mistaken, surely God knew that my heart was sincere? Wouldn't God show me if I was wrong? Did he really need to yell and scream and hurt me like that?
I have been hurt a lot in my life, and I never want to hurt others again. I have had my story dismissed, as if all of my efforts to get close to God and to please him, have never happened. As if I never thought at thirteen that I would not live to be thirty because God wanted me to go the mission field and get killed. As if I had never tried to be okay with the thought of being tortured and raped for the Lord.
Someone like that doesn't wake up one day and say, "Forget God! I'm going to go sin!"
The majority of my life, from early childhood, has been erased by both loving and hateful Christians.
I am sure that the angry homophobes will find some excuse to dismiss me, but I know I have told the truth, and that I haven't worked harder at anything in my life, than to try to be a good Christian.
And maybe you, dear reader, will dismiss it and erase my experiences too, but I hope there's something in there that you identify with. I hope, even if you don't agree with my conclusions, that you don't dismiss my sincerity. I was literally told, from the time I could walk, that Christianity was the most important thing in the universe, so why would I not care if I failed at that?
And like I said, all this time, I thought I was straight. Maybe some of you think that being gay-affirming leads to being gay. But I don't think it does, because my first thought years later, after a girl got my heart racing the same way some guys did, was, "I can't be a lesbian! My life will be so much harder now!" I hoped it would go away, so I wouldn't have to come out to my conservative Christian family. It didn't go away.
And maybe you think the devil is cursing me, but now I wouldn't change myself if I could. I like myself as I am. I like knowing what I am. And I don't think that makes me any worse than a straight person who likes being straight. I didn't even choose this; it was actually quite a shock.
Please understand that this blog is truly a love letter. I used to be you. I write not only to you, but to my homophobic past self The girl who thought she was forced by a loving God to hurt people, including children and teens--and those who have been through Christian conversion therapy, and for whom it did not work.
I know how anti-gay Christians think. I used to be one. I know right now you're probably praying for the right words to reach me. But maybe you should be praying that we ALL find the truth, no matter what it is. Maybe you should be asking if there is any way to not hurt people--gays and others.
And yes, you are hurting us, if you are preaching an anti-gay message; I know how I feel, and I wouldn't wish how I've felt on my worst enemy. Inflicting it is not an act of love. It is cruel. And it is a cruel system, in which God burns people if you don't hurt them now--or is helpless to stop such a thing from happening. (It is also cruel and unfair, if only some people are treated this way, and for something most would never choose. If only some people have to choose between being hurt now, and hurting for eternity.)
Maybe there is a better way. Maybe it's not too good to be true. I know you're scared to hear this, I know you have blasphemy defenses up--but maybe you don't have to hurt us. Maybe things will be all right, even if you don't.
Dear Homophobes: I Used To Be You, Part 1 of 2
Note: When telling my story, I am reliving a lot of heavy emotions, so please bear with me if there are some typos. I have tried to catch them all. Please don't dismiss my story because there are typos.
I first got saved at around three years old. Later I would often wonder how much I had understood, or wonder if the last time I was really sincere, and ask God to save me if I wasn't saved. I have been re-re-reborn many times, but that had nothing to do with my sexuality. I thought I was straight until I was twenty-three.
When I was about ten, I asked my Christian, homophobic mother who Bing Crosby was. She immediately responded, "He was a singer, and when he was asked in an interview what he would do if one of his kids was gay, he replied, 'Then he won't be my son. He won't be my kid.' And he didn't realize that your kid is always your kid. That you always love your kid no matter what. He was a bad father and a bad man."
I have never been able to find anything about homophobic remarks by Bing Crosby. Perhaps she was mistaken with the identity of the celebrity. But I never forgot what she said, when the topic of gay people had not even come up at the time.
My mother did not think homosexuality was right, but I merely mentioned the name Bing Crosby, and she immediately thought, "You don't disown your gay kids! You don't disown your kids, no matter what!"
I never even knew parents could say that their kid wasn't their kid anymore. I didn't understand, and I guessed it meant kicking your kids out, and totally ignoring their needs and existence. And when she had said it, it had not occurred to me that doing that wasn't right, until she explained that your kids are always your kids. I thought being gay was being bad, like going to jail. I had never imagined how bad kids should be treated, but especially not with kindness or love.
When I was thirteen, in 2004, Massachusetts started issuing marriage licenses to all couples. (I realize now that it was not same-sex couples, but all couples, because mismatched couples could also get married.) I was homeschooled, through the homeschool program of the local conservative Christian school, where I had attended until we moved out to the country when I was eleven. So I thought that God wanted me to be an anti-gay conservative. I feared where the world was headed, if being in a gay couple was legally recognized.
But I remember seeing, on the news about a protest or rally, two men sitting together on the ground, their legs touching like a loving straight couple. One was holding a sign that said, "I want to marry the man I love."
(Sorry, I cannot find a picture or clip of that. I wish I could. It is so clear to me in my mind's eye.)
I was shocked. A man could love a man, like a woman loved a man. And the presence of his beloved made it perfectly clear that it wasn't theoretical for him--he genuinely was suffering, right now. How close they were sitting made it clear that they were probably more than friends. They loved each other.
I thought, "And I wish I could give that to you, but I can't. I can't let you marry the man you love, because God said no." I felt uneasy having to hurt people, even strange people who fell in love in weird ways. So I rationalized something about the sacredness of marriage, relied on my self-righteous anger to keep my beliefs from wavering, and tried to put the issue out of my mind.
I had what I call my "blasphemy defenses" up. I was afraid of hearing the other side of the issue, really hearing how people were hurting, for fear of being deceived by Satan. So I read Left Behind and King James (I later learned he was openly gay--yes, THAT King James!), and tried not to think too much about whom I was hurting. I felt I didn't have a choice.
About that time my mom got a job in a local Native American tribal office. Mom was very conservative, and a big reason why I believed as I did. We are still as close as ever, even today.
Her new workplace was also very conservative and Christian, but there was one lesbian psychologist. She was very tall and strongly built, and walked like a man. (The hormones that God gave her apparently made her tall and gay.)
When I met her, she shook my hand very firmly but didn't seem creepy to me at all (that goes to show you my expectations then). My mom said later, when we were alone, that she had a "wife," and I heard the quotes in my mother's voice.
Mom related the comment of another coworker, also a conservative Christian: "I like you, Dr. X, even though you're the first one of those I've met."
I laughed uncomfortably at the phrase, "one of those."
My mom carpooled with her some days. I was kind of amazed that my mom was so comfortable. Gay people were still exotic to me.
My mom related to me third-hand what their prim, church-going boss had said to her lesbian subordinate. Her wife was trying through in-vitro fertilization to have a baby.
"She said, 'I don't approve of your lifestyle!'" Dr. X related. "And then she said she would pray for us to have a baby, and I found that highly offensive!"
"Yes, I can see why you would be offended," my mom said. "I hope you and her do have a baby."
She later explained to me, "I hope they have a baby, because right now they have something missing in their life, and when they have a baby, maybe they'll still have something missing." I guess that made sense. My mom thought a baby could bring them to Jesus, and to straightness or at least abstinence.
I also remember my mom joking, when no one else at work liked her favorite candy, "You like black licorice? Dr. X, you're my kind of woman!"
Continued in Part Two.
I first got saved at around three years old. Later I would often wonder how much I had understood, or wonder if the last time I was really sincere, and ask God to save me if I wasn't saved. I have been re-re-reborn many times, but that had nothing to do with my sexuality. I thought I was straight until I was twenty-three.
When I was about ten, I asked my Christian, homophobic mother who Bing Crosby was. She immediately responded, "He was a singer, and when he was asked in an interview what he would do if one of his kids was gay, he replied, 'Then he won't be my son. He won't be my kid.' And he didn't realize that your kid is always your kid. That you always love your kid no matter what. He was a bad father and a bad man."
I have never been able to find anything about homophobic remarks by Bing Crosby. Perhaps she was mistaken with the identity of the celebrity. But I never forgot what she said, when the topic of gay people had not even come up at the time.
My mother did not think homosexuality was right, but I merely mentioned the name Bing Crosby, and she immediately thought, "You don't disown your gay kids! You don't disown your kids, no matter what!"
I never even knew parents could say that their kid wasn't their kid anymore. I didn't understand, and I guessed it meant kicking your kids out, and totally ignoring their needs and existence. And when she had said it, it had not occurred to me that doing that wasn't right, until she explained that your kids are always your kids. I thought being gay was being bad, like going to jail. I had never imagined how bad kids should be treated, but especially not with kindness or love.
When I was thirteen, in 2004, Massachusetts started issuing marriage licenses to all couples. (I realize now that it was not same-sex couples, but all couples, because mismatched couples could also get married.) I was homeschooled, through the homeschool program of the local conservative Christian school, where I had attended until we moved out to the country when I was eleven. So I thought that God wanted me to be an anti-gay conservative. I feared where the world was headed, if being in a gay couple was legally recognized.
But I remember seeing, on the news about a protest or rally, two men sitting together on the ground, their legs touching like a loving straight couple. One was holding a sign that said, "I want to marry the man I love."
(Sorry, I cannot find a picture or clip of that. I wish I could. It is so clear to me in my mind's eye.)
I was shocked. A man could love a man, like a woman loved a man. And the presence of his beloved made it perfectly clear that it wasn't theoretical for him--he genuinely was suffering, right now. How close they were sitting made it clear that they were probably more than friends. They loved each other.
I thought, "And I wish I could give that to you, but I can't. I can't let you marry the man you love, because God said no." I felt uneasy having to hurt people, even strange people who fell in love in weird ways. So I rationalized something about the sacredness of marriage, relied on my self-righteous anger to keep my beliefs from wavering, and tried to put the issue out of my mind.
I had what I call my "blasphemy defenses" up. I was afraid of hearing the other side of the issue, really hearing how people were hurting, for fear of being deceived by Satan. So I read Left Behind and King James (I later learned he was openly gay--yes, THAT King James!), and tried not to think too much about whom I was hurting. I felt I didn't have a choice.
About that time my mom got a job in a local Native American tribal office. Mom was very conservative, and a big reason why I believed as I did. We are still as close as ever, even today.
Her new workplace was also very conservative and Christian, but there was one lesbian psychologist. She was very tall and strongly built, and walked like a man. (The hormones that God gave her apparently made her tall and gay.)
When I met her, she shook my hand very firmly but didn't seem creepy to me at all (that goes to show you my expectations then). My mom said later, when we were alone, that she had a "wife," and I heard the quotes in my mother's voice.
Mom related the comment of another coworker, also a conservative Christian: "I like you, Dr. X, even though you're the first one of those I've met."
I laughed uncomfortably at the phrase, "one of those."
My mom carpooled with her some days. I was kind of amazed that my mom was so comfortable. Gay people were still exotic to me.
My mom related to me third-hand what their prim, church-going boss had said to her lesbian subordinate. Her wife was trying through in-vitro fertilization to have a baby.
"She said, 'I don't approve of your lifestyle!'" Dr. X related. "And then she said she would pray for us to have a baby, and I found that highly offensive!"
"Yes, I can see why you would be offended," my mom said. "I hope you and her do have a baby."
She later explained to me, "I hope they have a baby, because right now they have something missing in their life, and when they have a baby, maybe they'll still have something missing." I guess that made sense. My mom thought a baby could bring them to Jesus, and to straightness or at least abstinence.
I also remember my mom joking, when no one else at work liked her favorite candy, "You like black licorice? Dr. X, you're my kind of woman!"
Continued in Part Two.
Sunday, December 17, 2017
Dear Homophobes: You Can Have The Rainbow, We'll Take The Cross
I'm not sure why anti-gay Christians get so worked up about the rainbow. They weren't even using it until we "took" it. (Can you take something that someone wasn't using and doesn't own, even in the public imagination?)
Surely they are worse things we could have done, than use a flag of many colors? We could have taken some far more important symbols, that they were using. And it's not even a true rainbow, either. It's almost like they're mad that it's pretty.
They say the rainbow is God's promise that he won't flood the earth again because of man's sin, but then they blame every single hurricane on gay sex. They say, "Rainbows belong to Noah," so I guess it's a good thing I'm descended from Noah.
But it's not really the rainbow that they have a problem with. That is one of the many smokescreens they use to hide the real reason they don't like us: That we're gay. Or rather, that we're not going to agree to be ashamed or torn up about it. In their view, as long as you are trying to be straight, it is better for a man to cheat on his wife, than to love and be faithful to his husband.
I wish they would just be more honest. Or better yet, at least explore the possibility that God doesn't force them to hurt us. It would be a shame if they hurt us for no reason, and had to answer for that someday.
Surely they are worse things we could have done, than use a flag of many colors? We could have taken some far more important symbols, that they were using. And it's not even a true rainbow, either. It's almost like they're mad that it's pretty.
They say the rainbow is God's promise that he won't flood the earth again because of man's sin, but then they blame every single hurricane on gay sex. They say, "Rainbows belong to Noah," so I guess it's a good thing I'm descended from Noah.
But it's not really the rainbow that they have a problem with. That is one of the many smokescreens they use to hide the real reason they don't like us: That we're gay. Or rather, that we're not going to agree to be ashamed or torn up about it. In their view, as long as you are trying to be straight, it is better for a man to cheat on his wife, than to love and be faithful to his husband.
I wish they would just be more honest. Or better yet, at least explore the possibility that God doesn't force them to hurt us. It would be a shame if they hurt us for no reason, and had to answer for that someday.
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