Ex-Lesbian

I was trolling the internet looking at the ex-lesbian, ex-gay movement.  I get mail from Exodus every so often.  Some nice person out there in the world thought they needed my name.   Thank you for your concern.

I probably spend more time than I should reading ‘testimonies’ from ex GLBT people than I should.  I find them sad.  Is that strange?

My comments are in this pretty lavender color.  The post is long, my rant is at the end.

 

                         Did God Make Me Gay?

 I hadn’t “planned” to become a lesbian. So how in the world did I end up this way?

 

by Christine Sneeringer

 

“Don’t you know that Kim is gay?”

My friend’s words stunned me, because I didn’t have a clue. 

Kim and I were both athletes, and we had a lot in common. As we got to know each other, we became really close. So when Kim told me one day, “I want to be more than friends,” I naively thought she meant she just wanted us to be even tighter than we already were.

Then my friend dropped the bomb about Kim being gay.

I was confused. At first, I was upset that Kim liked me that way. But after I thought about it, I figured that nothing could be wrong between two people as long as they loved each other. And Kim and I certainly loved each other.

Once I realized that, I was freed from my inhibitions, and Kim and I began a sexual relationship. I was fifteen and she was seventeen, and it was exciting to have someone care so deeply about me. It’s always exciting when someone cares about you. We’d see each other at school all day, then spend hours on the phone together at night. We always checked with each other before we made any plans with other friends.

When Kim graduated a few months later, she turned down several athletic scholarship offers from colleges, choosing to stay at home for college because we couldn’t bear to be apart. We were totally consumed with each other.

I hadn’t “planned” to become a lesbian. So how in the world did I end up this way?  I don’t know anyone who really ‘plans’ on becoming a lesbian.  It’s like saying I planed on being hated, ridiculed, and relegated to a second class citizen.

 

More Than a Tomboy

 

When I was young, life taught me that being a girl was not a good thing. Shame on life.   My alcoholic father had a violent temper and would often hit my mother. Because my mom was a victim, I figured it wasn’t safe to be female. Makes sense, who would want to be viewed as weaker because of their sex, and view themselves that way? I wanted no part of being a girl.  So I looked up to my older brother and wanted to be just like him.

I preferred sports over playing with dolls. I played with my sisters dolls, dolls were meant to be hung, be-headed, and drawn and quartered because ‘prince charming’ was just a tad late in the rescue.  I grew up on the tennis court, playing in my first tournament when I was six. I played Little League baseball when I was ten and tackle football with the neighborhood boys.  Lots of women play sports, doesn’t make them a lesbian.

I was seen as one of the guys because I was as strong and tough as they were. “Tomboy” didn’t begin to describe me—I walked like a boy, dressed like a boy, talked like a boy, even spit like a boy. Most adults thought I was a boy and often called me “son” or “young man.”  Perhaps you had a touch of gender identity disorder because you were a victim of domestic violence, and the way to protect yourself, as in your inner self, was to identify with what you saw as the stronger sex.

I even hated my name, Christine, because it was definitely a girl’s name. I told people to call me “Chris” instead, since that could be either male or female.  Sounds safe to me considering the circumstances.

My parents divorced when I was twelve and sent me away to live with relatives, where I was molested by an older cousin before moving back in with my mom. That cousin is a fucken dick and should be castrated with a pair of pliers. Like most children who have been sexually abused, somehow I thought I was to blame.  I would say probably 99% of children who were sexually abused feel this way.  The other one percent had early intervention and good therapists.

I thought, If only guys didn’t find me attractive, things like this wouldn’t happen to me. Very common for someone who has been sexually abused.  Wearing layers of clothes, gaining weight, not bathing, not putting on make-up, de-feminizing themselves.  Self preservation.  From then on I wanted to conceal whatever shred of femininity I had left, believing that all guys were sex-crazed monsters.

That’s the mentality I had when I started high school. And I still was often mistaken for a guy because of my masculine appearance and mannerisms. Early in my sophomore year I found a new best friend in Kim, a senior who was a masculine jock-type like me. Bet she wasn’t like you.  She probably wasn’t uncomfortable not being feminine, didn’t see it as a weakness, and wasn’t trying to cope with horrific abuse.  Only she wanted more than just friendship.

 

Mom Finds Out

 

My relationship with Kim lasted a year and a half, until my mom found out. She found a love note I had written to Kim. “Do you want to tell me about this?” she asked, dropping the card on the table in front of me.  Parents often react like that.

I didn’t look up from my cereal, continuing to eat in awkward silence. Mom opened the card and began to read my words aloud: “My dearest Kimbo. I’m so glad you are in my life. You make it worth living. I want to spend the rest of my life with you because I love you more than anything. When we get older, I can’t wait to get married.”

My mom demanded that our relationship end. She called Kim’s mom, and together they worked to end our love affair. Eventually they were successful.

After Kim and I broke up, I began to experiment with guys sexually to find out if I was really gay or not. But each time I felt used and degraded because the guys didn’t care about me at all; they only wanted sex. Uhm, something else that is common with people that have been sexually abused.  Wanting to prove that there is nothing wrong with them sexually.  Sounds like it just reaffirmed the feelings of men are pigs.  What gets me is she experimented with guys sexually, sounds like she was willing, but not ready.   As a result, I knew I preferred being with a girl. I found it very gratifying, and it felt natural to me.

In college I continued in homosexuality. I wanted to be the center of another woman’s world. It filled a void in my life as I deeply longed to be loved. Everyone longs to be loved.  While in college, I fell in love with Sue, a married woman seven years older than I. Her husband worked long hours, leaving Sue emotionally needy and looking outside her marriage for ways to meet those needs. I was there for her. 

Sue also regularly attended church. She felt guilty about our relationship, because she believed homosexuality was a sin—not to mention her unfaithfulness in her marriage, which ended in divorce while we were together. I was dealing with guilt, too—over being a home wrecker. But for a year and a half, Sue and I remained lovers anyway.

 

Finding God’s love

 

One day I told Sue I’d like to join her church’s women’s softball team. I met with the coach, and pretty soon was on the team. I didn’t know it then, but that was the best move of my life. Joining that softball team was my first step to freedom from the gay lifestyle.  How about freedom not from the gay lifestyle, but introduction into healthy relationships?

In the three seasons I played on that team, something stirred in my heart. I was drawn by the love that my teammates had for each other—and for me. I don’t mean romantic love, but a love that was pure and right.  There are like six forms of love.  Just because it was pure and right, doesn’t make romantic love wrong.  It sounds like she has been searching for love and acceptance her whole life, this softball team is just one more source.

My teammates knew I was gay, but they never treated me like an outsider. I later found out that they were praying for me all along. I wanted to experience what they had, so I started going to church. I never dreamed that after all I’d done, God could still love me. But I was glad to find out I was wrong.  Uhm, perhaps you were never told of God’s love before then? 

God did love me, completely and without reservation. I couldn’t resist that kind of love, so I became a Christian and gave Him my life. He forgave my sins and wiped the slate clean. Sue and I soon broke up, but after six years as a lesbian, wow six whole years, I’ve been one my whole life. I wondered if God could truly deliver me, because I still had homosexual desires.

I was angry at God because I thought he made me gay. I didn’t understand that it wasn’t God’s doing, but my own. I agree it was your own doing.  I eventually realized that I had chosen this path for myself because I was just trying to protect myself against further hurt from men. And I believe I had also been looking for my mother’s love in the arms of another woman.  I agree and don’t blame ya.

 

A Change Takes Place

Not long after I became a Christian, I was listening to a call-in show on the radio. The man on the air seemed to understand the struggles I was dealing with.

The man, Sy Rogers, was a former homosexual and the president of Exodus International, an organization that helps people who want to break free from the gay lifestyle. He mentioned an upcoming seminar in Orlando, just a couple of hours from my home in Tampa. I made plans to attend.

That seminar changed my life. Sy shared his story of overcoming a lifetime of homosexuality, and I was filled with hope that I could, too. I found out about an Exodus ministry in Tampa, called Straight Ahead. I began to attend weekly support group meetings.  Hi my name is Christine and I’m a recovering lesbian.  I’ve been beaver free for three months.

I also got involved at my church and started making new friends. However, I was very uncomfortable trying to fit in with straight girls, because I was still so masculine and being called “sir” often. But even that was beginning to change. For the first time since I had been sexually abused as a child, I wanted to be attractive—just like all the other girls at church. Welcome to healing, and it sounds as if she found a safe place. All my life I had been one of the guys, but now I wanted to be one of the girls. I wanted to be more feminine. But I didn’t know how.

Later that year, I attended an Exodus conference in San Antonio, and participated in a makeover session that had a profound impact on me. As I walked back to my room after the makeover, I felt like God was talking to me: “You know those girls at church you envy because they’re beautiful? You’re no different. You are beautiful, too, just like them.”

Stunned, I continued walking as tears stained my cheeks. My roommate was ironing her dress before the evening banquet when I walked in, still crying. She looked at me, confused.

“You look great. Why are you crying?” she asked.

“I’m pretty,” I stammered, surprised at this new revelation.

All my life I had struggled with intense feelings of inadequacy about being a girl.  Because of the abuse.  And suddenly for the first time, I saw myself as “just like them.” When I returned to my church in Tampa, I asked everyone to start calling me Christine. I wanted people to know I was a girl. I met godly, mature women who helped me see that being female wasn’t such a bad thing after all.  Good for them, it isn’t a bad thing at all, it’s a fantastic thing.

I came to realize that straight girls have the same insecurities that I dealt with, and that I was more like them than I ever thought. I also saw guys in a different light. They could be true friends who were interested in me, not sex. Imagine that.  For the first time, I began to feel safe as a girl. Gradually I became comfortable and secure in my new role.  It was the role you were meant to be in.

The key to my healing was developing healthy same-sex friendships. As I did this, my sexual attractions for girls diminished. Because you became stronger, and more secure with who you were.  Also the realization that all won’t rape you, or are alcoholics probably helped. I also saw a counselor to help me deal with the sexual abuse and family issues, and I continued my involvement in church and Exodus.

With God’s help and the support of caring people, I now walk in freedom—freedom from lesbianism. Homosexuality doesn’t cast a shadow on my life any more. It should be she now walks in healing from sexual abuse.

 

Okay here’s my problem.  In her last sentence she talks about how God healed her from lesbianism, and homosexuality.  She was obviously a woman who had some issues with her gender due to the abuse she witnessed and suffered. 

Christine was in a lesbian relationship as a self preservation and coping mechanism.  If every man seemed to hurt you in some way that is only understandable.  I don’t believe for one second that God saved her from homosexuality.  I think this is a story of healing, and how she found herself as a straight woman.

1 in three women is a victim of a sexual crime.  It is one of the worst assaults that can happen.  Society as a whole doesn’t deal well with sexual crimes.  Complicate that by being an adolescent when everything in your life is screwy. 

There are lesbians who have been sexually abused.  There are straight women who have been sexually abused.  Not all lesbians were sexually abused.  And the majority of lesbians that were sexually abused would have been lesbians whether they had been abused or not, because that’s who they are: lesbians.  Again, Christine found safety, comfort and warmth in the arms of women as a coping mechanism; some women turn to alcohol or drugs or food to cope with these feelings.  Christine is not a lesbian, she is a heterosexual woman.  What makes a more interesting Christian testimony, saying that you were a lesbian and “saved,” or saying that you were sexually abused and found healing through God?