My Journey Part 2 – Searching for Acceptance

Over the last year, I have come to accept myself in regards to my bisexuality and I am also confident that God still loves me for who I am, because I am His child who He created in His image. My journey to self acceptance was a very tough row to hoe but I came out of the experience a far stronger person, both emotionally and spiritually. Now for the next important step, acceptance from others.

Truth be told, If God loves me and I love me, that’s all that should really matter. I am, however, still human. I have many battle scars from being raised in an alcoholic home by deeply religious parents, I was bullied at the same school where my father was the principal, and lived for decades in deep denial regarding my sexuality, which fostered in me self loathing and self esteem issues that I skillfully hid from the world.  It stands to reason I would not only want but need to feel loved and accepted by close family and friends, my church, and the world around me.

I’m not so foolish to believe that the world has changed so much to think that I will always be accepted. I have done enough research online to see that hate and bigotry is still alive and well. I also learned about Bi-Erasure which rears its ugly head in what are supposed to be safe places for those of us in the LGBTQ+ community. Erasure is so prevalent that in many major metropolitan areas, like my own, there are still no programs or support groups of any kind for bisexuals. Ok, so strike one, now I am a minority within a minority even though bisexuals comprise 52% of the queer community and that number is growing every day.

The next place I looked for acceptance was my church because I wasn’t ready to come out to my family yet. My Protestant denomination has always disapproved of homosexuality. However, to my surprise their views have recently changed somewhat on the subject, as seen in their published statement regarding sexuality in the church. It states that having homosexual (same sex) attraction is not a sin. However, acting on those feelings is. It goes on to state that pastors are not to focus on the fact that a person was born that way, but to instruct members on how God wishes us to live regardless of our attractions. Meaning, God will still love you as long as you suffocate your true self, the self He created you to be, in order to be worthy of Heaven.

Of course this didn’t sit well with me at all. First off, I am a Child of God. I was made in His image and therefore I am worthy of His love and forgiveness. My Bible says, the wages of all sin is death and Christ died for the forgiveness of all sin. So even if you believe that homosexuality, or homosexual behavior is a sin, it still isn’t any different than any other sin, nor does it fall into a separate category outside of God’s forgiveness getting you a one-way ticket to Hell.

As I said in part one, I have many high school friends who are now pastors. One of whom is very intelligent and has published several books on marriage and family through my denomination’s publishing house. Since he no longer lives in my city and I trusted him with my secret, I opened up to him about my sexuality. He was very caring and understanding, however, after several emails he still towed the company line saying that I still needed to respect God’s wishes as laid out in the Bible.

My next step was to talk to my own pastors about it. I will admit it was a little scary. My senior pastor is a very compassionate and understanding man, but the fear of the unknown was still there. Would he tell me I had to leave the church? Would he tell me I was dammed to Hell? It took me awhile to build up the courage, but I finally decided I had to know and it didn’t matter anymore what happened. I needed to know where I stood with my church.

As it turned out, my pastor was even more wonderful than I could have ever hoped for. He actually agreed with me when I said I was born this way, and said my bisexuality was part of my soul. He also respectfully said that he believed it was part of my soul because of sin, a fact I no longer agree with. He then surprised me again when I told him how I felt about the church’s statements about homosexuality.  He said the church is really good when it comes to making general statements for the church at large but not so good when it comes to individual people.

He went on to assure me I was not damned to Hell, and that I was correct in saying that all sin was equal. He also told me a story about two women in his first rural congregation who lived together. Everyone just assumed they were lesbian. Each time someone questioned him about it he told them we don’t know what is going on behind closed doors and it isn’t for us to judge. Eventually, on two separate occasions different church elders came to my pastor and told them those women were living in sin and they needed to be asked to leave the church. Again, my pastor’s response was the same.

Then my pastor told me a few years later one of the woman had come in for some counseling and had told pastor that they in fact were lesbians and they had been in a committed relationship for 19 years. My pastor then told me that both of the church elders who came to him demanding he ask these women to leave church, without any proof I might add, were both having extra marital affairs with married women at the time. He went on to say he thought God would have far more trouble with the two men who were cheating on their wives with married women, than with the two lesbians who were in a committed relationship for 19 years. When it was finally time for me to leave that afternoon, I felt as though a large weight had been lifted from me. I no longer had to worry about being asked to leave my church home.

They main reason I had requested a meeting with my pastor was because I wanted to come out to my family and I knew my mother especially would be very upset. I had decided I would write my parents a coming out letter. I told them in the letter I would have rather spoken to them face to face but I was afraid I would forget things I wanted to say and that if I wrote it out I would be certain to say everything I wanted to and also make certain I said exactly what I meant to say and how I meant to say it so there would be no confusion or misinterpretations.

Pastor and I emailed back and forth with draft after draft. When we finally got a letter that we were both happy with we decided to meet one last time and included the assistant pastor, given my kids were more likely to talk to him about it, and we didn’t want him to be caught off guard by it.

In that meeting I still had some questions because I felt like I hadn’t quite understood my pastor and thought that I may have misinterpreted some of the things he had said in earlier meetings because I was getting mixed messages, all be it, being caused by my misunderstanding. I explained to him that I didn’t feel the way God created me to be was wrong or a sin and I had no intentions of suppressing my same sex attraction. I did assure him that I had no intentions of, as he put it, “Jumping off the deep end into the pool of hedonism.” I told him that I am very monogamous, and that I wasn’t the type to sleep around when I believed I was straight and didn’t plan on it now.

After listening to my thoughts he said, as he had before, that everyone is on a different path spiritually, going at different speeds. He still felt it was best that I tried to follow God’s teachings, as interpreted by the church, however, he wasn’t going to be my bedroom police. He also said, if I don’t tell him what’s going on he won’t have to know. In a previous conversation he told me it would be ok if I brought a male friend to church so long as I didn’t let on to anyone that he was my boyfriend, lover, or husband, and that there should be know public displays of affection that other members could see. I am totally ok with that.

In the end I was socked to say the least. I never expected this much acceptance from the church. I have wondered more than once since these meetings if he has a friend or family member from our tribe that has caused him to be this accepting. He did tell me there were a few gay members at out church, without giving names. To be honest I don’t need the names, I had them figured out already.

This whole experience with my pastor over a two-month period served to strengthen my resolve even more to come out. Now I had an ally in my pastor that could help me with my parents if need be. While I knew that my parents would still love me after I told them, that didn’t make their acceptance of my living as an openly bisexual man a certainty. My mother has never held back her feelings when it comes to the topic of homosexuality. You could never call her an out and out bigot. She has always treated everyone with love and respect as Christ would have wanted her to. That said, over the years, I have seen another side to her. As time has passed I believe she has become more tolerant of homosexuality, but that is different than acceptance. Whenever there is a gay couple on TV or I tell her a story about some of my gay friends who have spouses, there is this subtle twinge on her face to let you know how she truly feels. It can be a fleeting look, or a wrinkled nose that you might miss had you not been looking right at her, but it is without a doubt there.

So it isn’t too hard to understand why I was still to scared to do it. It is after all my family, and they’re the only one I’ve got. If they don’t love and accept me, there is nothing left. I was completely certain that my brother and his family would be awesome about it and I was fairly certain my kids would be too, but it might be more of a shock to them because it’s “their dad.” In the end, it was my mother who was creating all of the anxiety because of the uncertainty of her response.

Just so you understand my family dynamics a bit better; when I divorced my ex wife I was unable to live on my own because of child support and I moved back in with my parents. Then in 2004 she died from Breast Cancer and my kids moved in with me and my parents. For a multitude of reasons, outside of my control, we still live with my parents even though my kids are now 20 and 23. I was never worried that my coming out would jeopardize my living situation, however, it could make it far more uncomfortable and much more awkward once I did come out.

My coming out plan was actually quite simple. I would leave the letter where my mother would find it on a morning when I would be out of the house before they were awake. This would give them time to read it and talk about it before I got home. Once they had been told, I would then tell my kids privately face to face. After which I would email my brother and his family. Please remember, just because something is simple doesn’t make it easy. It took me two weeks until I was able to put the plan in action.

I finally worked up the courage to leave the letter for my parents. When I got home that afternoon it was like nothing had happened, which was very odd to me given how very certain I was of my mother’s reaction. What you also need to know is that twice in my letter I said I knew this would likely be a shock to them but once they were ready I really wanted to sit down and talk about it face to face. I also figured it had taken me three years to come to terms with it myself so it would likely take them some time as well. Because of this I said nothing about them not responding in order to give them the time they needed.

I took my kids into my room and talked with them privately. As I suspected it was a bit of a shock to them. They both cried a little, and that was ok too. All in all, I thought they took it very well and they are now both ok with it.

I then sent my bother the email and asked him to share it with everyone. Almost before he could have even read the whole thing, he texted me the following:

“I’m sure that wasn’t easy. Nothing changes here. I will let everyone else know, they won’t care either.”

Immediately I began to sob. This was the kind sobbing where you can’t see because of your eyes are full of tears and they sting from salt, then the snot starts to flow. Even with all of that it was still the very best kind of cry. The relief that came with it when I read my brother’s text was immeasurable.

Within the next minute or two my Sister-in-law texts me:

“I love and support you 100%! Life is too short not to be your authentic self, and who you are is perfect. Everything else will fall into place in time. I wish I was there to give you a big hug and support you.”

Of course the tears started again. Meanwhile she and I had a great text session about it. While that was going on my niece texted me her support and told me she was pansexual. I said, I thought she might be because of some of the posts she had put on Face Book over the last few years. She replied, “Yeah, I thought everyone knew.” That’s when I remembered several years before my mom talking with my sister-in-law. When she hung up she was visibly upset. She told me something really bad had happened concerning my niece and she would let my niece and my sister-in-law tell everyone when they were ready. At the time I was worried that she had been raped or gotten pregnant. So I prayed for God to watch over her and that was that. Looking back, however, I’ve got five bucks that says they told my mom my niece was pansexual and she took it upon herself to keep it from the rest of us.

So the first day being out was every emotional but I couldn’t have been happier that it was finally over, and besides it felt amazing! Now I just had to get passed the conversation with my parents once they told me they were ready. First one day passed, then two, then three, four, and five days, and still nothing.

One of the reasons I wanted so desperately to come out was because I needed friends! I had found a gay men’s group that met for coffee every Saturday. So on the sixth day with no word from my parents I told my mom that I had a men’s meeting that morning at 10:30 and I didn’t know when I would be home. She replied, “Oh, at church?” I said, “No, its an LGBT thing.” She then disgustedly replied, “Well, don’t get sucked into that.” I wanted to scream there isn’t anything to get sucked into because I was born this way, but I held my tongue and left.

Over the next few days there were times when the conversation turned towards people from the LGBTQ+ community, or gay people on TV and the disgusted look with the wrinkled nose was back on my mother’s face once more. I wanted to say, “You do realize every time you make that face at them, you are making it at me too?” But I thought better of it because I was trying to give her the time she needed.

Later, while we were working on a project in the living room together, she asked me if I had read the devotional email she had sent me earlier that morning. Normally I check my emails from sun up to sun down. That day, however, I wasn’t feeling well and hadn’t checked all morning. I told her I would later. Several more times that day she asked me if I had read it yet. It was obvious that whatever it was seemed to be very important. When I finally read it, the devotion started out with a cute story about a small child. I often share stories like these with her that I’ve found on line and we always have a good laugh. Because she was so adamant that I read this I thought she wanted me to read the the devotion also. She often sends me email devotions she thinks are pertinent to my life for me to read.  

As I continued to read I realized this devotion was about, “Listening to the Right Voice.” I knew right way that she was trying to tell me she thought I was listening to the wrong voice by living my authentic life, and not the one she though God wanted me to live.

To say I was fuming mad would have been an epic understatement! It is very rare when I get that mad, and I knew I needed to cool down before I said anything to her.  Early the next morning, before I headed to my gay men’s coffee meeting, I typed an email to my mother. It outlined the fact that I had said in my coming out letter there may be times when we would have to agree to disagree on this topic, and that I didn’t appreciate the way she had been treating me, and sited the facts. I also told her if she didn’t accept me and my choices that was fine but that I would not tolerate the constant jabs she had been giving me and it needed to stop now.

This email was very hard for me to write. My mother and I have always been very close. When I got divorced we became even closer. She has helped me raise my kids, she has always been there for me no matter what, and I can’t remember the last time she upset me because of something she has said or done. Having to call her out on this hurt me more than you will ever know.

When I was finished I hit send and left for coffee. I knew she wouldn’t read it right away because she was on the phone with my aunt. When I got home she had replied. The fact that she had put it all back on me was kind of surprising. She said she didn’t have any problems with my coming out, that’s why she didn’t say anything about it, and then went on to say that I must still have really strong feelings about it. I wasn’t as mad this time as I was before but I still needed to cool down again. I told her later that day we would talk about it but not right then.

Since then I haven’t found a time where we would be able to sit down privately to talk about it. I am thinking now, the best thing to do would be to send her another email about. That seems to be working the best anyway. In it I will explain how a lack of response to my coming out letter, in addition to her other comments, spoke volumes about how she feels about it and it sent a very clear message to me whether it’s the message she meant to send or not.

I love my mom and I know she loves me, so we will eventually get this sorted out. I also know she has no earthly idea how deeply she hurt me by not responding to my coming out letter in anyway. Life is a journey and with God’s help we will all make it through.