My Love Story
I Corinthians 13: 13
“And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the
greatest of these is love.”
I started to notice boys' bodies around 4th
grade. I started to feel self-conscious in the locker room, to dress in a
corner so nobody would look at me, and more importantly, so nobody would catch
me looking at them. The school building where I attended 4th and 5th
grade had “gang showers,” a big room with shower heads all around and so you
had to go in and get naked in front of everyone. No matter how sweaty we got in
gym, I might wipe down my face, but never showered. I knew I wasn’t supposed to
be checking out the other boys’ developing bodies, and I was already ashamed.
In 6th grade, we got a new building, and the showers had dividers. I
became the master of changing under my towel so nobody would look at me. And I
was so fast, always trying to be the first one out of the locker room, running
from what I deemed temptation to lust. On vacation, I would ride my bike to the
General Store and peek at Playgirl when the shop assistant wasn’t looking,
hiding it inside Architectural Digest and standing in the aisle of paper
products. Then I’d ride my bike back to my tent and ask God to forgive my
lustful thoughts. Even in middle school, I had no desire to look at the Playboy
magazines. Nobody told me which magazines to want; I just knew.
As junior high and high school passed, messages about
homosexuality were delivered at church and school. In Bible class Freshman
year, we watched a video about homosexuality and AIDS, leading us to believe
that to go down that path would not only be sinful, but also result in a
horrible fight with disease and death. It was a blatent scare tactic. But what
stood out to me more was the day we walked into English class, and I overheard
2 classmates discussing 1994’s Shawshank Redemption (which I was not allowed to
see because of its R rating,) and one of my classmates said “Man, when that
homo got what was coming to him, that was really awesome.” I got the message that
gay was not also wrong, but also deserving of a beating and death, that to be
gay would be to be hated. When another student greeted me in the hall one day
lisping “Hey Dave” and flopping his wrist, I was distraught and remember
writing in my prayer journal, “I AM NOT GAY!” I’ve written before how I sought
to bolster my self-confidence by over-achieving. But I never quite got over my
inadequacy in sports. I wasn’t masculine enough. One of my friends had to tell
me that he was sorry that people were calling me “Girly Man,” borrowed from SNL
sketches of the time.
To arrive at Taylor University and discover that there were
other people my age who loved Phantom of the Opera, Chopin, Mozart and a
capella music was heaven. Soon I was nerding-out with the best of the music
nerds, sight-reading Victoria masses for fun, and studying for Music History
tests in an attempt to have the highest grades (I did. J) Romance wasn’t really
on my mind, but on one school trip, my roommate called me out, guessing that I
was hiding a secret, and that it was my attraction to men. I didn’t understand
how he could see through my defenses, but it was because he was struggling with
the same thing. We talked about it a few times, and we both said that it wasn’t
what we wanted. We wanted to be married with families. We wanted to follow God’s
calling for our lives. I ran from him into the arms of a girl who was fun
to hang out with and make out with, and then summer came. I prayed for God to
take away my homosexual desires and at the same time to bring me a friend with
whom I could be vulnerable, someone who would make me feel seen and heard.
I kissed a boy for the first time that summer after my
freshman year of college. It was innocent and sweet, filled me with anxiety,
and was everything I think a first kiss should be. It filled me with all kinds
of confused feelings, and I told the boy I couldn’t see him anymore, which
upset us both. I felt so much guilt for being older and feeling that I’d led
him into sin. These are the feelings I don’t think should be attached to a first
kiss. But I ran from this and pushed those feelings away successfully for a
couple more years. Just like in High School, I filled my time with activities:
choral groups, extracurriculars, student government, even volleyball, the sport
that I’d always loved but which boys weren’t allowed to play at my HS. A
“girls’ sport.”
During my senior year of college, while I was broken up with
my girlfriend, a professor I loved and respected came onto me. I felt powerless
to resist, and this led to even greater confusion. These feelings were good,
but they were wrong, right? But I had nobody I could talk to. I told him I
didn’t want to be gay or engage in this behavior, and I got back together with
the girl. Then, on a choir trip, I recognized a kindred spirit in another
student, and we had a brief affair, rumors of which made their way to the
Dean’s office at school. I was put on probation. The best part of this was that
I was required to attend counseling sessions for the remainder of the school
year. I had an amazing counselor who helped me deal with the abusive
relationship brought about by the incredible power imbalance between a
professor and student. She did not preach to me about homosexuality. She
listened and didn’t judge, and helped me work through my feelings. She helped
me write to my parents and begin to open up about my lifelong “struggle” with
homosexuality. Strongly grounded in my beliefs that this “lifestyle” was
forbidden, I continued to meet with counselors and pastors for the next year,
who attempted to give me tools to avoid temptation and fill up that void for
intimacy in my life with prayer, Bible reading, and community.
Then I saw E*** at grad school. I asked someone who he was.
He was a violinist, an undergrad. I’d pass him in the hallways and know I was
blushing. I figured out a way to hire him for a gig I was staffing, and
eventually worked up the courage to ask him on a picnic. I remember telling my
friend T*** that I was going on a picnic with him, and it was a date, and I was
so nervous. You might guess that it went well. He introduced me to gay things
like AbFab, Golden Girls, and borrowing money from your boyfriend to pay your
phone bill. We made out in practice rooms, and he lay under the piano while I
practiced Rachmaninoff. This was the high I’d never experienced when I’d dated
girls. He gave me stomach butterflies. I’d do anything for him. I told the
pastor I’d been meeting with that I was dating a boy. He asked the head pastor
to remove me from the privilege of singing “special music” at church, and he
told my parents they’d better ask why I was no longer meeting with him. So I
came out to them. And this kicked off a rocky time in my relationship with my
parents. E*** dumped me when he wasn’t prepared to help me go through the
coming out process, and thankfully, I was cast in a musical where I met the
community that brought me through this confusing time. The actors at Toledo
Repertoire Theater accepted me with open arms, not judging, not expecting
something. They took me to a gay bar for the first time; I was so scared! For
perhaps the first time in my life, I was encouraged to be myself. To embrace
what I liked (Drop Dead Gorgeous, skinny-dipping, ice cream, whatever!) and
they would love me for who I was! Through these people, I met so many more of
the “gay community” and people who were friends of the gay community, and I
began to experience Toledo in a different way. Through them, I met the next boy
I’d fall head-over-heels for, and I got those butterflies all over again. With
less of the guilt.
I Corinthians 13:4-7
“Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy, it does
not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not
self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does
not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always
trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
I’ve fallen in love a few times since then, and each time,
it transforms me. That’s what love is supposed to do! Sure, you feel all the
feelings, but you also respond with action. When someone asked me to write a
little about my personal experience in reconciling my faith with my
homosexuality, this is the verse that comes to mind. Is falling in love with a
man causing me to sin unforgivable sins? I am not a theologian or a Bible
translator, and I can’t dissect all of the biblical references that are used to
condemn homosexuality. (Much better writers and scholars have tackled these
verses in depth.) But I can analyze my own feelings of guilt and behavior. When
I hurt someone, I feel guilt. It’s not a good feeling. I can only imagine that
if I were ever to murder, I would never recover from that. When I tell a lie, I
feel guilty until I’ve made it right. I can go down each of the Ten
Commandments and tell you with certainty that if I sin in one of those ways, I
have an inner compass that tells me I am wrong. But when I fall in love, it’s
different. I feel led to do GOOD! I do thoughtful things, like cook breakfast
in bed, pick up a book at the bookstore, bring home flowers, send emoji texts,
volunteer more, be kinder to everyone around me. I’m led to be a better person
when I’m in love. So I have to wonder if there is one specific sexual act then
that is the one that crosses the line from loving into sin? And if heterosexual
couples do that thing, are they also sinning? And do I want to pray to a God
who draws a line in the sand over one act that turns a whole relationship
sinful?
As my friend Andy has written about in his blog, my parents
did everything in their power to follow Proverbs 22:6 “Train up a child in the
way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.” We were in
church 3 times a week, sometimes more. We participated in every possible Bible
study and volunteer opportunity. I went to a Christian school from grade K-12,
and despite nurture, my nature is homosexual. Many years of prayer did not
change this, and I felt so lonely and isolated as I tried to deny myself
intimacy and love out of the deep-seated belief that my desire for such
intimacy was wrong. Who are you when you’re in love? Do you remember the first
time you fell in love? Did you make them a mix tape? Did you send flowers?
Write poems? What about the first time you had a crush? Do you remember that?
Think of the people in your life, and think about whether you would seek to
deny them those feelings, good and bad.
Jeremiah 29:11
“’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord,
‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a
future.’”
Psalm 139:14
“I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”
The loving God that I believe in made me just the way I am.
He filled me with desires for love and connection, some of which can come from
friendship, and some of which can come only from a romantic relationship with a
person to whom I’m wildly attracted, and who wants to be with me the way I want
to be with him. If I believe that God is truly loving, I have to believe that
he did make me exactly as I am, and I need to continue pursuing patience,
kindness, humility, and the many other virtues of love in the way that best
leads me towards these things. That way is love. So I will pursue love until I
no longer can.
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