OK, I'm finally working on this page, and here's what I have so far. It's not done, so if you're still interested, keep checking back as I update and add to this page.

It took me a long, long time to come to terms with my sexual orientation. Being raised in a fundamental Baptist home, homosexuality was very rarely talked about and when it was, the only thing that was said about it was that it was an abomination in God's eyes. I came to know Christ as my personal savior when I was young and continued a close walk with God until my early teens. At that point, however, I started to come to the realization that I was different from the other girls I called my friends. They were worried about their hair and make-up and how cute this boy was and who was going steady with who. None of that ever crossed my mind. The unfortunate part is that I had no one I could talk to-- no one who I could ask questions without feeling judged. I had no name for the thoughts and feelings flowing through me and yet I had some sense of shame about it. Whether or not it's true that I had no one to talk to is irrelevant-- the point is I felt very isolated and afraid.

It didn't take long for me to get overloaded emotionally, so I found a physical outlet for my emotional pain. I started cutting myself on a fairly regular basis. It didn't matter what I used-- a razor, broken glass, a knife-- just as long as it hurt enough to make me forget everything else for a while. Over the course of the next several years, I was stitched up more times than I care to count. Instead of turning to the one person who could stop my pain, I ran further from Him. I was so afraid and yet I would not talk to my God about it. When I was finally able to put a name to my fears, then I got really angry. I was so mad at God for making me gay. I could not understand how a God of love could make me gay and then say that being gay was a sin. How could he sentence me to a life of lonliness and pain? I can still remember how mad I was-- still feel that rage if I think back to that time in my life. Remembering some of the things I said and did to show my anger at the Almighty still makes me sick to my stomach. Yet I know that I have since asked for His forgiveness and I know that my God forgave me for all of those things.

I had to go thorugh a period of self-discovery, as all people do, and yet since who I really was was a secret from everyone in my life it was very difficult. The first person I came out to was my best friend. I remember quite clearly that night-- we were sitting at Denny's eating dinner. It was kinda quiet and I asked her what she would do if I was gay. I remember her smile as she told me it was about time I figured it out. It seems she had know for quite some time and was just waiting for me to say it. What a relief! Not only did it not matter to her, but she was totally supportive of me! She became my leaning post, sounding board, security blanket, support system, worst critic, reality check-- you name it. Thank God for her!

She was also brave enough to go with me to my first lesbian bar. Oh, to see the two of us must have been a riot! We stood outside the door for what felt like an hour, trying to muster up the courage to walk in. I don't quite know what we expected, but once we made it inside and didn't have any big hairy biker chicks hitting on us, we relaxed. That bar, The Elle, became my comfort zone. All these wonderful women dancing and talking-- I was able to see what being a lesbian was. There was nothing ugly or scary or dirty-- just women, like myself-- living their life. What an eye opening experience. I can hear the comments now..."Oh, a Christian in a bar." But ya know what? Like it or not, I know that my God led me there so I could begin to accept being gay because He knew if I didn't cross that bridge I would never find my way back to His arms. Once I was finally able to call myself a lesbian, even if only to myself and strangers, and be comfortable with the idea, the real struggle began. That was, of course, to find a way for myself, as a lesbian, to come to terms with God.

It was a long road, full of pain and tears, frustration and anger, fear and more fear. I don't actually remember how the process began, but I do remember feeling quite certain that all the awful things I had heard my family and my church say about homosexuality and how God feels about it had to be true, or they would not have said it. So, I got some of that old anger back. I guess it was never really gone - just buried deep enough for me to forget about for a while. My anger still kept me from finding my God's arms, but it also forced me to start searching for other gay people who were in the same boat as I was; forced me to find help before I began to truly self destruct. The internet was the easiest way I had to look for the help I needed. I was going to college at night, so I'd just hang out in the computer lab surfing the net for hours, looking for some kind of help or support. Most of what I found was articles and pages dedicated to leaving organized religion totally, and finding some sort of inner peace without the same God I knew and loved. Although I was ready to look for new avenues, I was in no way ready to abandon my beliefs about God. I believed then, as I do today, that the Bible is the word of God. That God laid out certain laws that we as Christians are to follow. That God loves us all, unconditionally. That there is a place in Heaven for those who ask God into their heart and life. But I could not find a thing about gay people who believe the same. So, once again I kinda threw my hands up in the air and said, "Whatever. You made me this way, and if you want to be angry at me for living my life as you created it, then so be it.' And I kinda let things lay that way.

The next obvious step for me was to come out to my family as a lesbian. I didn't know how in the world I was going to tell my parents, or how they would react. I was living at home at the time, and figured once they knew they would kick me out on my butt and that would be then end of my family life. I have always been really close to my family, all of them, and the idea that they may not want me in their lives anymore was more than I could take. I figured I'd have to wait till I had a place of my own, and then once I had a place to go, I'd tell them. Well, God works in mysterious ways, and what we imagine is usually worse than reality. Late one night I was talking to my daddy, and he asked me what was bugging me - why I had been so distant and why I never stayed home anymore. I started to cry, and told him I couldn't tell him now, he'd just have to wait for me to find my time. He said no, he didn't need to wait, I needed to trust him and feel comfortable with talking to him like I always used to. I didn't say anything to him, and he was quiet for a bit, and then he straight up asked me if I was a lesbian. I felt the weight of the world lift from my shoulders. I didn't even have to bring it up myself, my dad knew already. I said yes, I was a lesbian, and he said he'd known for a while but was just waiting for me to tell him. He said it was too hard for him to watch me tear myself up about it, and decided it was time for him to bring it up. He said he loved me, and nothing could ever change that. He said he had always been proud of me, and that we'd get through all of this together. My tears of fear turned into tears of such happiness, just to know he still loved me and still accepted me, just the way I was. My mom had been listening in from the kitchen, and she came out and said she'd get me some counceling as soon as she could. Well, ya know, there is a down side to everything. My dad took it all in stride, so it's to be expected something had to go wrong. I told her I wasn't going to counceiling, and that God made me this way. We argued for a while, and she told me that leading my life this way was going to turn my friends from God and that their blood would be on my hands. She told me that this was not ok, and that I was not to tell another soul about my 'lifestyle' until I was out of her house. She told me lots of things that hurt me. But in the midst of her words, I was still so relieved to have that weight off my chest. Things were really tense at my house, to say the least, but it was nothing compared to the pain of living a lie.

More to come when I get the time....