For those who may not know about this event, the Alliance Defense Fund launched it several years ago as a way to present an alternative viewpoint about homosexuality from a Christian perspective.  Exodus International now hosts this event and we want to help Christian students build relationships with gay-identified friends that reflects both the truth and compassion of Jesus Christ.

But back to my old self for a moment. When I was pre-teen student secretly battling homosexual feelings, I felt so ashamed and fearful to admit a reality I lived with daily.  I kept my battle to myself, hoping no one would ever find out.  Of course, other peers made fun of me and I was constantly reminded of my struggle and inadequacies as I endured the name-calling and derogatory banter in jr. high. Despite this, I was actively committed to my Christian walk.  In fact, it was one of the first times I went deeply into the Scriptures and my relationship with Jesus really took off. He was the only one I felt I could run to.  Ironically, my homosexual attractions, at least at that point in my life, were never a part of my conversations with Him. I kept that hidden away and compartmentalized out of either fear or maybe just a desire to ignore it in hopes that it would go away.

The Southern Baptist church I went to wasn’t uberconservative, but some of the ideology certainly emphasized judgment over grace. I vividly remember my pastor’s one sermon on homosexuality. He quoted from Leviticus and as he did he raised his hand and with a blistering tone said, “Homosexuals are an abomination and they all go to hell.” I knew then and there that to tell anyone of my struggle with homosexual feelings would result in instant rejection. They would tell me my feelings were sick, disgusting, unnatural and an abomination to God.  So I kept my struggle a secret all the while seething with anger and struggling with wounds until one day in high school I released it with a simple phrase, “I’m gay.” I felt instant relief.

As I think back to that time in my life, I’ve wondered what would have happened if the Day of Truth was around back then. I wonder what my life would look like if I had been able to confide in a fellow Christian who didn’t reject me for my struggle, but encouraged me with hope and truth.  For me, the isolation was palpable and the conversations I had with myself only solidified the nagging thought I was gay and I needed to embrace and celebrate it.  But would I have done so if I had heard a redemptive message from compassionate Christians, instead of the condemnatory one I’d heard at church?

I can’t really say what I would have done, but I think things may have been different. I didn’t know people were walking free from homosexuality until later in life. I didn’t hear a message of hope and grace until after I had embraced the gay-identity — a time when I really didn’t want to hear it.  Had I had friends that I could trust with my secrets with who could pour out God’s grace over the coals of judgment I had been walking on, I think my choices would have been different.

The truth is I don’t think there is a student out there dealing with homosexual feelings that actually rejoices in and embraces it instantly.  It takes time for that to happen, if it does at all. I was just a teen desperate for love, unconditional love, one in which I could bare all my trash and not be rejected.  I was a teen desperate to hear of a loving Father who knew my brokenness whether I admitted it to Him or not.

Today, I think of all the students struggling with same-sex attraction on campuses across America. I think about the guy who is in the same place I was more than ten years ago who is secretly struggling.  He’s thinking that if his friends reject him it will be too much for him to bear. He’s thinking that maybe the answer is just to stay silent.  I want him to know that God loves him and that He hasn’t abandoned him and never will. I want him to know that God longs to be with him even in his struggle with same-sex attraction.  I want his friends to show him Christ-like compassion and allow him to be safely transparent, struggles and all.  I want him to hear a message of hope — maybe even on the Day of Truth. Maybe then he won’t go down the same road I have traveled.

“Jenny,” I said. “I’m Gay.”

“Alright…” she replied, “but do you want to be gay?” No one had ever asked me that before. No one ever gave me that choice. I knew I wasn’t born gay, but somehow I developed homosexual attractions and now I couldn’t make them go away.

I was born in Miami to a Cuban mother and a Colombian father. Due to “X” circumstances my mom and dad were unable to raise me and I was sent to live with my aunt and grandmother. Looking back now, I can see plainly that my whole family loved me but I’ve come to learn that sometimes the facts get missed and misperceptions can easily become truths to a little boy with unanswered questions. I wondered why my mom and dad weren’t around like the other kid’s parents. My aunt and grandmother never told me why, only that my mom and dad loved me very much. Cartoons and kids movies gave me the only answer I could find: “What is a kid with no parents? An orphan.” I came to the conclusion that my mom and dad abandoned me like a little baby left on the stoop of a kindly family. I barely knew my mother and rarely got to see her. My father lived in Colombia and I had no memory of him. I wondered what it was that made them want to leave.

To my aunt and my grandmother I was the prince of the world. No wish went unanswered. If I wanted a bike, I got a bike. If I wanted a toy, I had it within a week. I even remember a particular Christmas with dozens of ninja turtle figurines and a tent to boot! But both women had their own wounds and though they loved me dearly, they didn’t always know how to love me. My Aunt felt she had to compensate for both my lack of mother and father and had a hard time trying to balance being both the nurturing mother and tough father. As a result she often threatened to send me off to military school if I got bad grades. Many a night was spent crying dreading the bad report card in my book bag, fearing I would be sent away. As for my grandmother, she had been hurt in her past and harbored resentment towards men. Resentment she often voiced to me.

Like I said before, I knew I wasn’t born gay. I remember liking girls from an early age and having play ground love triangles. I remember my first kiss with Maria behind the lake and enjoying it. But around age 8 sexuality was corrupted for me as I was sexually abused by an older boy in the neighborhood. This brought alot of shame for me and instead of confronting the issue my family moved to a new neighborhood and never spoke of it again.

In this new neighborhood I made friends with another boy and his sister. Our relationship started innocently enough, spending every afternoon playing super Nintendo as fourth graders would. However, as their parents were never home; our curiosity got us into trouble as we discovered pornography. Our afternoons of Mario Kart were soon abandoned for afternoons of pornography as he, his sister and I sat fixated in front of the TV watching porn. This was the beginning of a serious porn addiction for me. I found myself attracted to the women in the films but felt ugly, unworthy and undeserving of them. I made the connection that good looking guys are deserving of good looking women and began to envy the men in the films wishing to be like them. As I continued watching pornography my fixation turned to the men, studying their bodies and comparing them to mine, hating myself and wishing I were them.

By 12 I received my first computer along with the internet and a new gateway to pornography. As my fixation was on men, my browsing led me to gay porn which idolized the male body. At first I was disgusted but as I was continuously exposed to it I became desensitized to it, and as I went through puberty I began to contextualize sexuality within the concept of homosexuality. What once disgusted me became tolerable and then even desirable until eventually it became an infatuation.

By this time I had come to put my faith in Christ. I read my bible and joined a church participating in their youth group and even becoming Bible Club president of my high school. I so loved Jesus that most everyone in my 4000 student high school knew me as “churchboy.” I thought the best way to minister to my classmates in those days was to put on a happy face and pretend to be a happy shiny Christian. I thought if everyone saw how great it was to be in Christ they’d all want in too!  But while in high school, as in love with Jesus as I was I secretly struggled with same gender attractions. I didn’t think I could tell anyone for fear of “shaming Christ” and being a “stumbling block” to weak believers. Sadly, it wasn’t until after high school that I realized Jesus is not a candy bar to be marketed but that Living Water can sell itself. I began to live a double life as I would often watch pornography all night only to go to school the next morning and pretend all was ok. I was desperately looking for answers but too afraid to ask.

All my life I had dreamt of being married to a girl one day, raising a family, watching our kids go off to college and grow old together. My faith and my understanding of the Bible told me that homosexuality was not in line with God’s will for my life. From all around me I heard teachers and pop culture telling me I was born gay, that I needed to accept it and “come out of the closet.” Essentially, I felt the world was telling me to abandon my faith and all my dreams of a family for a label and a life I wanted no part of. So I tried to pray. I believed God answered the prayers of his faithful and believed God would take away the struggle. I tried to ignore it and pretend it didnt exists, but it bubbled up each time with more intensity until I found myself on the floor of my room every night crying begging God to kill me or take away the struggle. But He didn’t.

Eventually, the summer after graduation I told a gay friend of mine what I had been experiencing. I felt so free. He told me everything I was longing to hear. He told me I was handsome and that he loved my sense of humor and that he had a crush on me for a while. But the freedom I felt soon disappeared as I realized I was more and more becoming a person I didn’t recognize with a future that I didn’t want. I began to withdraw and even became dark. This is when Jenny confronted me. She didn’t look at me with the christian pity face I had so often given people myself. She genuinely wanted the best for me and she genuinely wanted to know if I was happy being gay. I told her: “of course not Jenny! but what can I do? I’ve tried everything not to be gay but here I am!” I understand now that ignoring the problem and pretending it doesn’t exist isn’t “trying everything” just like ignoring a baby and pretending it doesn’t exist doesn’t stop him from crying.

She didn’t have all the answers but she did tell me she heard of a support group for people trying to leave homosexuality. It was the first time I had ever heard of anything like that before. I showed up at the end of that month and met 10 other people just like me who found themselves with attractions they never wanted (and some who were now living successfully apart from homosexuality!) The next month I went to an Exodus conference and met 1000 more from around the country and some from around the world. This was the answer to the question I had for so long been afraid to ask and for once I realized I didn’t have to be ashamed and I didn’t have to be afraid to ask questions.

I came back a changed person. Not because anything that happened at Exodus but simply because for the first time in years I had hope. Hope that I didn’t have to live a life I was unhappy with, that my dreams of a family can be fulfilled that I don’t have to be a slave of my circumstances. Hope because I saw real people living happily beyond the “gay” label: some who married and others who were just content to be single.

The five years that followed were hard, and there was a lot of work I still had to do. I developed habits and addictions over the years that weren’t going to be easy to break. But the key was community.

I don’t want to make the same mistake I did in high school and mislead anyone. I’m not a finished work. I’m still growing. As soon as one issue is resolved another surfaces that needs attention, such is life on earth. And I don’t want to sound like I’m saying “I was gay, but I’m ok now,” my story is not about that at all. My story is that I found myself going into a lifestyle I wanted no part in. I found myself taking on a label I didn’t want and becoming a person I didn’t recognize until someone gave me a choice, until someone told me I didn’t have to be gay. It’s about being empowered to live the life I want to live.

What kind of life do you want?