My Story | A.
I have always been different. During recess, I was content to swing and play in the sandbox. My best friends were girls because I never had much in common with other boys. I had never thought much about the way I acted, but after a string of teasing from people in my class, my behavior changed. As a result, I did everything possible to avoid the teasing: playing sports, running track and dating girls.
I was raised in a very strong Christian family. Growing up, the only things I heard about homosexuals were negative. It was very clear that they did not approve of gay people. During my seventh grade year, an event occurred that would change my life: one of my friends on the basketball team played percussion in the band and convinced me to join at the beginning of that year. After Christmas break a new student, named Jeremy, transferred to my school. He played trumpet and became friends with my best girl friend, Jamie. Through her, Jeremy and me slowly became friends. Our friendship grew stronger until the three of us were inseparable.
During ninth grade, Jeremy started dating a girl in my grade. I became extremely jealous of their relationship. I thought it was only because I missed the quality time we used to spend together. But I began to realize I had a crush on him, but I knew that it was wrong, and I couldn’t be that way.
I prayed to God to take away those feelings.
I just wanted to be normal.
Then, in tenth grade, my life changed. It was during Geometry class. Jeremy was taking a picture with another of our friends. I made a rash decision and photo bombed the picture. I kissed him on the cheek and the moment was captured on film.
The kiss was not premeditated.
It just happened.
I freaked out and convinced my friend to delete the photo, but the image was still burned in my mind. Words like “faggot” and “gay and proud” sounded in my head, along with the laughter. Jeremy, however, never freaked out. For the next couple of weeks, our friendship was strained, mainly because I felt awkward around him.
Then, one Thursday after school, a large group of my classmates were at my house painting t-shirts for the pep rally the next day. Jeremy’s father worked out of town, so he stayed at my house that night. After supper, we were playing games on the Wii, and our eyes locked, and we both leaned in and kissed. We immediately pulled back, but my stomach was doing flips and my heart was pounding. I woke up the next morning with him in my arms. We did not talk about that kiss for a while. At least, not until it happened a second time. After that, we agreed that it could never happen again, because we knew it was a sin and wrong. The whole time, I knew that I would never be able to love a girl the same way I am capable of loving another man.
After I reached this realization, I began hating myself.
Hating myself for being gay.
Hating myself because I knew I was letting my family down.
Hating myself because I was not normal.
I dated girls and guys for short periods throughout the remainder of high school. This period of my life was especially frustrating because even though the girls I dated were great, I could not love them romantically. The summer before my senior year, I broke up with my girlfriend of several months because I knew I was going off to college at the end of the year, and didn’t want to get even more involved with her (and I couldn’t stop thinking about Jeremy).
In October of my senior year, Jeremy and I began dating. I fell in love with him, and he helped me love myself again. This was the first time I had ever felt normal and healthy, even though I knew that if my parents found out, I would be kicked out of the house. But being myself and loving myself were well worth the risk. Although Jeremy and I have broken up, we are still close friends. He helped me realize that being gay does not make me an abomination.
The Bible teaches that God’s love is boundless. We are taught to live Christ-like lives, and in order to do that, we need to love like God loves. God loves me. Not because I’m gay, but because he created me in His image. God loves me as a gay man and that makes me proud to be alive in His world.
FAQ Friday (Monday, actually)
Is anonymity the easy way out?
Over the past of couple of months, we have received messages via twitter and email encouraging us to “reveal” our “true identities”. One engaging message even asked to meet with us face-to-face to discuss things in a more personal setting. While we appreciate these offers of self-disclosure, we will continue to remain anonymous.
We are remaining anonymous because this movement is larger than us. At this time, we are committed to being a voice for the voiceless. And maybe, just maybe, one day, we can be a face for the faceless.
Q:I've heard so many times that the reason people "turn" gay, bi, or lesbian is because they had something done to them while they were growing up. Do you think this is true? I am bisexual and I was sexually abused many times while growing up. I'm not sure if this horrible blot on my life has caused me to be bi but I was wondering if there is anyone else out there feeling the same way I am. thank you so much
Anonymous
First of all, no person should ever have to go through what you have gone through. Our hearts go out to every person who has experienced sexual/physical/emotional abuse. Like you, we are hoping for a world where every person is treated with honor and dignity.
Second, we are not developmental psychologists and do not have an answer to your question. We do know, however, that one of the greatest lies circulating is that gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people are alone. You are not alone. You are loved and valued by God.
Thank you for your courage in asking such a tough question. We love you and know that it’s not easy.
Q:Why no new post on Tuesday?
Anonymous
We are still waiting on submissions. E-mail us at paperclipspress@gmail.com if you’re interested in sharing your story.
FAQ Friday #2
Do you believe that practicing homosexuality is wrong?
Paper Clips exists to give voice to voiceless, courage to the intimidated, care to the abandoned, and strength to the powerless. We do not exist to justify or condemn sexual minorities. We do exist to announce the good news that God’s love is for everyone, regardless of sexual orientation.
If a conclusion is easy to come by, it may not be the best conclusion. If an answer rolls off your tongue without much consideration, that answer may be worth re-considering. Wisdom and integrity come through the long process of prayer, fasting, and hard conversation.
With that being said, we invite you on this difficult journey with us. Pray with us. Fast with us. Engage us in conversation. Since we don’t want easy answers from you, we don’t expect you to want easy answers from us either.
My Story | J.
When I was a little boy, I never heard gay people spoken of in a positive way. They were always “sissies”, “faggots”, and “abominations”. The hatred I heard in people’s voices and saw in their eyes was unmistakable. There was no way around the fact that the people around me would hate me if they ever found out that I’m not straight. I reasoned with myself over the years to alter my “womannerrisms” into “mannerisms”. I did everything in my power to “pass” as a straight man. I made sure my wrist was never limp and my hand never wrested on my hip.I wanted to be respected. I wanted to be normal. I wanted to be straight. I wanted to go to heaven. I wanted to see Jesus.
I can’t tell you when I first felt it, but I knew hell would be my home. There was never any hope for me. I was condemned by God to the lake that burns with fire and brimstone: forever. Even though I had never been to the physical hell I was condemned to, I could describe it to you in detail: darkness, heat, and isolation. Interestingly enough, the hell I imagined for my afterlife had slowly invaded and dominated my present life. My heart was dark, the fire of judgment surrounded me, and I felt isolated.
There seemed to be no way out. There was no way out. I tried dating girls. I asked God to take away my orientation. I asked God to make me normal.
One day during my senior year of college, Justin Gerhardt spoke about homosexuality in chapel for two days straight (pun intended) during Sex Week. He went into great detail describing “gay sex” and how gay men have an average of forty sexual partners a year. Something about his presentation did not sit well with me. Even though I was not at point a self-identified gay man, I was aware of my feelings and knew that I had never had forty unique sexual partners in a year’s time nor did I ever desire having forty unique sexual partners in year’s time. In fact, none of the gay people I know have forty unique sexual partners a year. Justin’s misrepresentation sent me on a journey of self-discovery.
From that moment on, I stopped believing the lies I had been told about myself: that I’m a degenerate pervert with no hope of seeing God after I die. A few months later, I struck up a friendship with a fellow graduating senior. One night, he told me he was gay. This made my world collapse. This friend helped me realize that there is room in God’s house for gay people. Up to that point, every other gay person I had ever known was either on depression medication or borderline suicidal. This friend was not. He loved himself, loved God, and loved the life God had given him. I was blown away by the ease with which he embraced the tensions of his existence. He gave me hope for a better life.
As a fully closeted gay person, I adhered to the weakness myth: all gay people are weak. Today, I know the contrary: I am strong. I am strong because of my friends. I am strong because of my family. I am strong because Jesus is my source of unending strength.
An interesting part of this journey is giving up the social privileges of heterosexuality. I can parade around and pretend that I’m straight and continue to lead a somewhat quiet and comfortable life. The difficult part has been admitting my homosexuality and taking its consequences for what they are: beautifully varied. I would rather be authentic and be persecuted for it than inauthentic and be praised for it.
I am gay. I am happy. God loves me.
FAQ Friday #1
(Every Friday, we will respond to the myriad of e-mails we’ve received over the last few weeks. Be patient with us. Our opinions are still evolving.)
What do you believe?
Well, first off, we believe God loves all people. The most potent embodiment of that love is the person, Jesus Christ. Jesus is, according to his cousin John, the “Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” Notice that John refers to the “world”, not just straight people. Jesus lived, died, resurrected, and ascended for the world. We are doing our best to not limit that love to one group of people.
Why are you doing this?
Why would we not do this? If we do not speak for those who with no voice, stand for those with no support, and love those who have been impounded in the scrap yards of community, who will? If LGBT people are going to find safe space, the church must offer it. We’re the church, so we’re offering it.
How can you call yourselves “gay Christians”?
We don’t call ourselves “gay Christians”. We are Christians who happen to be gay, much like Christians who happen to be left-handed. There are followers of Jesus who are attracted to the opposite sex and there are followers of Jesus who are attracted to the same sex.
Q:Thanks for sharing your story.
Anonymous
Thank you for listening. The next one will be posted next Tuesday.
My Story | C.
It was a grey t-shirt. All it said on the front was this: GAP. I remember it like it was yesterday.
For some, middle school is a memorable mix of puberty, awkward dances, and weird smells. For others, middle school is a living hell. A source of my living hell was a family friend giving me a bag of hand-me-down clothes from their older son who was going into high school. I thought I was so cool getting to wear his clothes. There was one shirt that was in the bag that I wore on one of the first days of school, and at least once every week after that. I was cool. Gap was cool.
Unlike most kids, recess was not my favorite time of the day. I never wanted to play ball with any of the guys. Most of my friends were girls. I was never “one of the guys.” There was always snickering and pointing, especially at lunch. Because I sat at the “girl table”, I knew people talked about me.
One particular day, I attempted to play football with the guys. See, my mom had a close friend from work whose son, Tyler, had just enrolled in my school. I had met him before at a family function. I thought he was a nice guy. He wasn’t just a nice guy, though. He was a “cool” guy. Girls flocked to him. He was popular among the guys. Tyler was the new middle school celebrity. I felt cool because I “knew” Tyler. Well, I didn’t really know him, but I pretended I did.
One day, I mustered the courage to join Tyler for that unforgettable football match. My adolescent social reasoning led me to think that being seen with Tyler would create instant popularity for me. There was no way for me to anticipate the impending disaster.
I can’t recall the score or my athletic form. But I can recall one thing: the Gap t-shirt I was wearing that day. As soon as the game ended, Tyler and a few of his friends mocked my performance on the field. I remember them whispering about how I should have sat behind and hung out with my girl friends. Then Tyler looked at me and pointed, saying, “GAP? G-A-P means Gay and proud, right?”
My heart sank. People laughed. I was hurt and confused and helpless.
I remember similar instances of people making fun of my voice throughout elementary and middle school. It didn’t stop there. They critiqued my demeanor and social circle. “Gay” and “faggot” became regulars in my everyday life. I became native to a land of verbal and emotional abuse. I tried pretending that everything was fine. I tried pretending that I was not fazed by the constant torment.
I woke up every morning dreading going to school, worrying about what others thought of me. It could have been worse though. Thank God it wasn’t. Bullying dehumanizes children to the point of non-existence. For some, suicide is the only reasonable way of escape. To see suicide in this light is completely unacceptable.
I don’t know what you want to call me: bisexual, queer, gay. I don’t care about your labels or what you want to classify me as. I like girls but I like boys a little more. That’s me. That’s life. Call me what you want. I’m not here to live up to your expectations. I cannot apologize for who I am.
I grew up going to a Church of Christ. I heard a lot of sermons about homosexuality. Those sermons always made me nervous because I knew something was different about me. In high school I acknowledged my attraction to other men. Well, to an extent. I knew I had to get rid of my attraction because my orientation was an abomination before God. Not only did God hate homosexuality; God hated me. Even while dating girls and participating in youth group activities, I knew God hated me. I did my best keeping my orientation hidden. No one needed to know. I had it all planned out too: go on to a Christian college and marry a Christian girl, and life would be picture perfect. I’d be fixed at last.
I’m still working through this, but I don’t think my sexual orientation is something I can toss in the garbage. It will not disappear over night. I have prayed and cried, asking God to change me. Instead of changing my orientation, God has used the last series of months to fill my life with good friends. And they are not just good friends. They are Christian friends. These friends do not want to change me. They love me. They accept me. They tell me that God loves me. And I actually believe them. I wish every person could have the love and support I have.
I do not know much, but I do know this: I am where I am because of God love. And honestly, it sucks not being able to share with Christians the area in my life where I see God working the most. I’m not sure why God made me to be who I am. I am created in God’s image. You were created in God’s image. We are all created equal in God’s image. But equal does not mean “same”. We are not the same. We are a beautifully diverse tapestry of Christ’s likeness.
So many people are hurting. So many people are lost. So many people are being put through counseling and being told that they are not okay and that they need to become straight. I’m tired of fear. I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of people not understanding. It’s crazy. I know. But this is me. This is the life God has handed me. Argue all you want with me that I am ‘choosing’ to live a “lifestyle”, and let me ask you to live a day in the last fifteen years of my life. Then, you tell me that I am choosing to be put through this mess. It’s simple: This is me. And I love myself.
Even though writing is not my forte, it was important for me to write this. It is time for us to begin treating each other with the love and kindness of Jesus. Take the time to care. Take the time to listen. Take the time to imagine what it’s like to hide from the people you love.
There are so many people struggling with their sexual orientation; people you’d least expect. Whoever those people are, they need friends. They need people who are willing to do the hard work of walking along the road of life with them. They need to be told that God is love and that God’s love is available to them too.
I’m no different from you. I’m a guy who likes guys. You call me a sinner. God calls me blessed. And I am so thankful God has, in fact, blessed me with this life.
Yours truly,
G.A.P.
Q:Can anyone submit their personal story or is this all pre-prepared?
Anonymous
Yes. We will gladly receive your submission at paperclipspress@gmail.com.
