I can remember being in church before I was old enough to form proper sentences. Church used to be a second home for me. This is where I learned how to have good manners. This is where I could go to eat some good food. This is where I could play with all my friends, who felt more like cousins. It was where I could go to share my love for Jesus. Trust me, I was the epitome of a Jesus-freak. I went to all the youth meetings, YEC trips, volunteered through my church, helped out with the sign language/music portion of VBS, witnessed to any person who would listen, etc. I was a very devout christian.
But I was also carrying around a secret. Y'know we were always taught we can't hide anything from God, but I sure did try. I liked girls....as well boys. I recall wanting to kiss girls the same way I wanted to kiss boys before I was even ten years old. Let me clarify right away that I had no clue what being gay was until later in my teen life. So I had no idea what I was feeling was an actual thing or even normal. I just knew what the bible said, only Adam & Eve. One man, one woman. So naturally, I felt like I was messed up. This was the moment that I started becoming really into modesty and chastity. I thought if I pushed away ANY thoughts of anything sexual, no one would catch on to what I was really feeling inside.
But as you enter puberty, you start to feel natural urges. So of course, whenever a cute boy would smile at me, I would blush. This was exciting as well as terrifying. "What if I lose control around a cute girl??" "Everyone will know!" So my very young & naive fix for this was to be very boy-crazy & only have female friends I didn't find attractive. Each year I got older, these feelings never changed. Even if I was smitten with some dude I'd been crushing on, there was always a pretty lady who was friends with him. Then I'd almost always picture myself with her instead of him.
I think I was around age of fifteen or sixteen when I first stumbled onto porn. For whatever weird reason, it was during a sleepover at my house. Me & two of my best friends were up late watching movies on Cinamax. I don't know if other people are aware of this, but when it gets closer to midnight, that channel starts showing free soft-core porn. So our movie ends & the porno begins, first scene showing two women together. Immediately my two friends share a very audible "EWWWWWWWWWW!!!!", but I was just in shock & awe. I also remember feeling very relieved. Everything I had been wanting to do with other girls was right there on the screen. It was comforting to see that this was normal.
Those happy feelings didn't last very long though. Because as my curiosities started re-surfacing, I started questioning things. Of course, I never went to my parents or youth ministers with questions. Instead just asking around at school, which either way I got very negative answers. "It's not natural!" "Lesbos are disgusting sluts!" "Devil worshipping whores!" I lived in an uber conservative & religious small town, if that wasn't already obvious.
If I didn't already feel defective enough, these comments just broke me even more. I prayed so hard, so long every day & night for God to take it all away. I prayed to be a normal, good girl. Nothing ever changed. Feelings never went away. No matter how hard I tried to ignore them or pretend I was OK. Aside from being a closeted bi-sexual, I was also very different in more ways within my community. I was a victim of bullying almost daily. The worst case being when someone tried to force me to swallow a lit cigarette. "So I won't have to hear your stupid, annoying voice anymore." A lot of my time in high school was spent just crying & hating myself.
My parents were always worried about me. They took me to many different therapists, trying to figure out ways to help me & really know what was going on. But of course, I wouldn't tell anyone. I was a disgusting, slutty, whore of the devil. How could anyone tell their parents that? So the therapists just chalked it all up as an "emotional disturbance". Which I took very hard & completely out of proportion. "I'm disturbing." It was no secret to anyone that I was slipping into depression. It was just always a secret as to why I was. It got so bad that I started hurting myself. At first it was little ways, like snapping a rubber band against my wrist. Pinching myself & biting into my skin. Then it escalated to slapping or punching myself in the face & pulling out my own hair. I thought about cutting, but I never wanted to leave obvious marks.
To the outside world I was a very happy child, but whenever I was alone, I was completely opposite. Whatever any bully said to me that day, I took home & repeated it to myself in my mirror. Then I would pray for God to make it all go away. It never did. I started to believe the only answer was to make myself go away. That's what everyone else wanted right? I was stupid, fat, ugly, & a waste of space. I had the scissors pressed against my wrist, but my heart was wavering. I was in so much pain & really wanted to disappear. At the same time though, I still had hope God would make everything OK again. I was on my knees, tears streaming & begging continuously for a sign.
Nothing happened. I started remembering all the other times I prayed the same damn prayer & got nothing. No one was there to save me from this madness. No one was there to comfort me & tell me everything was going to be OK. I was alone, I was always so alone. This is the moment where most assume I cut my wrist for sure. Because if I lost God, there's nothing else to live for right? You're wrong, because I had myself. In such a sick, twisted, & beautiful way I finally accepted myself for who I really am. I thought, "This is me & I want a life that is mine. I'm living for myself, not anyone else." The scissors were put back in their place on my desk. I cleaned myself up in the bathroom, went to sleep, & woke up anew.
It wasn't until I was an adult & moved out of my toxic town that I started opening up about leaving Christianity behind. Yet I never told my full story to others. Just a simple, "I was gay & God doesn't like that!" I opened up to my parents though, which hurt my mom very much. She still hurts for me & says things like how she wishes she introduced other religions to me. In hope that I could still believe, just in a way that was comfortable to me. She doesn't have to fully understand, but the fact that she's starting to accept me for who I am means more than anything else. Sometimes I regret not coming to her earlier, I might of saved myself from developing anxiety disorders & depression I can't cure. But at the same time, my pain helped me to realize the truth. That there was never anything wrong with me & my life belongs to me.
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