Setting the Scene
From an early age, I discovered my unique perspective on the world and my different feelings towards girls. However, I was exposed to teachings that deemed my attraction to women as immoral and sinful. While my family would have been accepting, these ideas were ingrained in me through religious education during Catholic Primary School. As someone drawn to spirituality, I felt the need to suppress my sexuality in order to honour my faith.
During high school, I came to realise that I was attracted to both males and females. I thought I could simply ignore my attraction to girls and it would go unnoticed. Working out very quickly that I could pass as straight and that I didn’t ‘look gay’, I wanted to use this to my advantage. I began seeking guidance from trusted adults who were affirming, as I tried to reconcile my faith and sexuality. Unfortunately, my church, to which I was deeply involved, held conservative views. Despite hearing affirming opinions, I struggled with the fact that the leaders I respected adhered to traditional beliefs.
The Internal Chasm
The cognitive dissonance was real; I had no sense of who I was, only who I was supposed to be. The only thing that I knew for sure was that I loved God, and I had a deeply personal relationship with Him. This only intensified the shame I felt about my sexuality, the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint God. I was like a little girl not wanting to disappoint or anger her Daddy.
I spent so much energy desperate for the male gaze, praying that God would send me a guy so my ‘hearts fate was sealed.’ I didn’t need to worry about my attraction to women anymore. Simple right? Except that no guy that ever showed interest were Christ-like, or wanted a committed relationship. No matter how many books I read or prayers that I prayed – I never found that guy.
The gaping hole that was inside of me felt like it was tearing me apart. It was as though I had one foot on each side of the Grand Canyon, each side representing sexuality and faith. I was using all of my energy to not let it tear me apart. That’s exactly what it did though; it was slow and steady, purposeful and painful.
Coming Out and Going Back In
While a few individuals within the church were aware of my same-sex attraction, it was a topic that remained avoided. I knew what they believed and it was simply too painful to do anything other than allow the avoidance. They were my second family – I loved them, and respected them. They were some of the most important people in my life and I wasn’t willing to jeopardise that.
Grappling with some foundational aspects of Christianity I took a temporary loss of faith. Leaving church allowed me to come out to my loved ones and friends, without fear of rejection or judgment. The next 2 years I felt free to explore and experiment; I call it my 2 years of rebellion.
I had a friend tragically die in a motorcycle accident and I began to wrestle with my faith again. The concept of heaven/hell was prevalent for me, so upon returning to the church, my sexuality was suppressed once again.
Beyond the Horizon
I was thankful for people; who helped breakdown the ‘clobber passages’ that are used against the Queer community. It gave me a chance to see beyond what my own church taught. I began to develop beliefs that allowed my sexuality to expand rather than be oppressed. Was I out and proud? Not quite; but I wasn’t daily asking God to fix my same-sex attraction and that was growth.
As I grew, I become open to the idea of dating women; but it certainly wasn’t something I looked for. I still longed for that ‘7th Heaven’ home and lifestyle. Looking back now I know this ‘stubborn and strong willed’ woman wasn’t ever going to be a submissive wife.
The One I Was Waiting For
Fast forward through a lot of inner work, a lot of faith questions and part way through a counselling degree. I met a quiet, and reserved woman that would change the course of my life. Chrissy was nothing that I thought I wanted and everything that I needed. I remember those early moments of meeting her and getting to know her like they are imprinted on my soul.
Deep down I knew what was going to happen; but something inside of me told me to do it anyway – it will be worth it.
Choosing us was the best thing I ever did. Though it brought pain, grief and heartache like I had never felt before. When I gained Chrissy, I lost my church, my community, my friends and my second family. I lost everything that made me who I was; eventually I lost my faith as I had always known it. It took on a life of its own – one that I am still building and wrestling with.
Moving Forward
Eventually, I found supportive individuals, including a trusted minister and therapist, with whom I could confide. I began the formal journey of deconstructing my faith and reconstructing my understanding of my sexuality. Until this point I didn’t have language to communicate that this is what I had been doing for many years. It was during this process that I realised my faith and sexuality were not opposing forces.
In fact, that girlfriend became my wife. The flowers you see below are from our wedding.
