After reading Josh’s story and his request to hear others’, I decided to put together this post about where I come from. Maybe this will be helpful to someone, and I will strive to keep it as unsentimental and brief as possible.
I can remember being attracted to men and boys from a very young age, as early as five or six. Back then it was just an affectionate preference, but by eight I was definitlely more interested in other boys. At a summer camp when I was in second or third grade our camp couselor took a small group of us hiking one day, and we went skinny-dipping at a swimming hole nearby. There was absolutley nothing pervy about it–just the group of us being boys in the woods, although I do remember being fascinated by his naked body. That was the first time I remember seeing an adult male naked–I’m guessing he was about 18 or so. It was still too early to be explicitly sexual, but I definitley remember thinking he was the most exquisite creature. Around this time was the beginning of some “sexual” tomfoolery: nothing that could be construed as sex but some silliness, petting, and nudity with other boys my age–always disquised as a game of some sort. From what I know about friends’ experiences (of all orientations) and what I’ve learned in college, it seems about average. I was never sexually abused. In fact, I had a pretty ideal childhood. Lots of trees to climb, good books, and plenty of sunshine. But as my interest in sex developed, so did an increasing cloud of isolation and self-hatred. I didn’t know what was wrong with me and I didn’t know it had happened to other people.
Sometime around the age of 14, I found a copy of a Time magazine article about a gay man in California. For the first time in my life I realized that I wasn’t the only person who was dealing with this. Soon after I met a gay man who lived the stereotype. He was the first person to influence my early concept of a gay identity. Of course, at that time a gay identity was defined by the bars one visited, the music one listened to, particular styles of dress, mannerisms and semantics. And of course, AIDS. I didn’t have much luck fitting in with the few gay men I met in my late teens, but I did give it a try, sadly. And then I made the mistake of being honest with my sister, who promptly used the knowledge of my sexuality as a weapon against my parents, and things went to hell overnight. Loneliness. Fear. Withdrawal. Discipline problems at home. It was a rough, rough time for my whole family. I was alienated from my peers, from church, and especially my father who proceeded to haul me to every psychiatrist he could find. To his dismay, they all told him that I was probably not going to change and that a more pressing issue was my safety and mental health. Of course, he thought it was a conspiracy and that the gay agenda had been disseminated throughout the psychiatric profession. Therapy continued, more for his benefit than mine.
When the time came, I jumped the first bus I could to get out of my hometown–it led to basic training in the US military. My first duty station practiced an unofficial policy of zero tolerance for gay servicemen and a total disregard for the “don’t ask, don’t tell policy”. After confiding in a friend about my orientation, I was threatened with physical violence and genuinely feared for my life, so I appealed for an honorable discharge and received it.
I then moved back to the South and started college, where I began to form my own gay identity. I did well in school, met some other folks like me, and joined a rock band. For the first time in my life, my sexual orientation was not a liability. But two new problems began to emerge: first, I was terribly empty spiritually. Second, I didn’t fit in with the other gay men that I met. I was lonely again, and this time I had access to drugs and alcohol, with which I did experiment, albeit briefly.
As I finished college and settled into the workforce, I once again withdrew and spent more time alone than ever. I got confirmed in the Catholic Church (my family had joined another church when I was still a kid) and focused on my work. Things were getting better.
I began to consider a vocation to religious life and I moved to a larger city and got involved with the parish there. I was reluctant to discuss my vocation with anyone, lest I be subjected to the inquisition about my sex life. Having already been the victim of harrassment and discrimination, I was not eager to endure the same process again, so I set that aside. At least one monk with whom I became friends discouraged me from religious life, and my friends generally lamented my interest. At about this time I also entered into my first serious relationship (although it was long distance and neither of us had much experience with love) which ended after two and half years. It was great while it lasted, and despite some difficulty toward the end I feel that it ended amiably.
There was also a couple of years where I explored other religions/spiritualites in an attempt to find one that would allow me to be myself, a group where I did not fear exposure or rejection because of my SSA. I met some wonderful folks, learned a great deal about myself, and had a great time, but I ultimately found that what I was lacking was an intimate relationship with Christ and Our Lady , and I was spiritually starving for the Eucharist, so I returned to the Church after a thorough examination of conscience and reconciliation. Since then I have been trying to put it all together, and I find it rather like putting together a jigsaw puzzle, only to realize that what I’ve got are the pieces of several puzzles, and no progress can be made until I decide to eliminate some of those other puzzles. I am Catholic, first and foremost, and that is where I will begin.
I’ve not been sexually active since my relationship ended, and I have been busy in the parish as much as I can between grad school and work. Living the chaste life has certainly freed up some time, so I’ve been studying and reading what has been said on the subject and trying to network with other guys like me. Still struggling with whether or not I identify as “gay,” but I’m also figuring out that it doesn’t matter how I identify or how other people identify me as long as I can do my work. And my thirties are much more comfortable than the teens or late twenties ever were. I’ve got a spiritual director, and I’m doing more to stay in touch with folks who are dealing with the same issues that I am. Beyond that, I find it important to focus less on myself, to turn my gaze outward. Even though SSA can be an uncomfortable situation and there is much work that needs to be done for people like us, that’s no excuse to not be active in our parishes, helping our neighbors, and working to make the world a better place. In fact, I think we single and childless SSA folks are sometimes uniquely qualified for this kind of work, given our abundance of free time and (often) discretionary income.
