Fulfill the Law: Love God. Love People.
Maybe life really is just that simple.


I met up with an old friend from my Christian college last weekend. The fellowship was wonderful. He graduated with a BA in Theology the year before I finished my BA in Christian Counseling. A large bit of what we discussed was realizing we were gay, that we couldn’t change, and dealing with all the emotions that brings all while trying to complete our Baptist degrees. Our stories sounded so similar, with the exception that he went to much greater lengths than I did to “cure” his homosexuality. He flew across the country to attend an ex-gay camp, and the stories he told of “therapy” were unreal. I’ve done a lot of reading on ex-gay therapy, but his stories STILL surprised me. He attended Exodus International conferences. He went to the school counselor. He read all the “right” books. And while reading a book by Joe Dallas stating that only behaviors could change, that he’d be trapped by same-sex attraction forever, his faith fell apart. He was basically a non-believer his entire senior year. He could not understand why God REFUSED to “heal” him. Until he eventually realized he had nothing to be healed from and that his narrow view of God defied human conscience.


I, too, lost my faith during my senior year of Bible college. I knew what I’d been told about gay people was wrong, and it caused me to question what else they got wrong. I’m still questioning. But two emotions stick out during that period in my life. One, euphoria because I was finally real with myself and had found love! And two, fear. I was terrified of being found out. I was afraid my school would find out, my fiancée and I would get kicked out, and THAT would be how my parent’s found out I was gay. I couldn’t be real with my friends for fear they’d out me, either intentionally or unintentionally. I had to become one of the fake, hiding people I preached so loudly against. Authenticity is something I greatly value. I had to watch every word, justify every action. Try not to look too “queer.” Smile and pretend I believed what was being taught during classes. Try to “kind of” pretend I agreed with what they said while trying to pass an amendment to the state constitution to “protect traditional marriage.” (My school did phone drives and held petition signings for Florida’s Amendment 2 in 2008. I did not participate, even though counseling students were “highly encouraged” to do so.) Fear and secrecy were a large part of my life back then. And it sucked… it sucked. I feel that sinking feeling in my chest now just remembering.


But I write this post on the hope that SOMEONE out there is currently where I was and needs the encouragement. My friend, my fiancée, I, and others made it out with our degrees and are now out and proud people who happen to be gay. We know where you’ve been. We remember it with saddened hearts. Just know that God, whoever and whatever God is, does not condemn you for being gay or for not being the perfect Christian school student as defined by your superiors. I know you are out there. If, like all of us, you are too far into your degree program to transfer, then press on knowing it will be over soon. If you need to transfer schools, then transfer. Though I will say this, we are all glad we finished. I’m proud to be a gay Baptist college alumna (even if I don’t use that degree). We are not alone, and we are no longer silenced.  We now live in freedom.  Find a church that loves for who you are, not their idea of what you’re supposed to be.  And know that there are plenty of people out there who will love you for you; a lot of my Christian friends really surprised me with their love and lack of condemnation.  We were gay baptist students… and we all made out “on the other side.”  In other words, it gets better.


This is the song I have been searching for but didn’t know existed.  I knew there had to be a recording artist out there writing songs about the struggle to be Christian and gay.  Jennifer Knapp was part of what I was looking for.  (She came back to the music scene and came out at the perfect time in my life.)  There’s something about this particular song, however, that just resonates with my soul so strongly that it made me cry when I heard it.  (Don’t you love moments like that?)


Anyway, the  name of the song is “Include Me” by Sara Em.  I’d never heard of her, but I’m glad I have now!  Here is the video:


If it also resonates with you, please buy it on iTunes or Amazon.  I am, honestly, one to normally download free music, but I bought this song, because artists like this need to be supported (I’ve also purchased all of Jennifer Knapp’s music).  We need more artists who are willing and able to stand up for those of us who are often caught in the difficult situation of believing the Christian God and then discovering He made us gay.  Music speaks deeply to the soul and  has some divine power to heal.  It needs to be spread!


There’s a South Park episode called “Christian Rock Hard” that mocks contemporary Christian music.  Basically, Cartman takes love songs and turns them into songs about Jesus.  It’s hilarious, because it’s mostly true!  Often, it’s hard to distinguish a secular love song from a song directed toward God.

I know personally, I used to have a really romanticized view of God.  I was reading through one of my old journals the other day, and I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by how “romantic sounding” my entries to God were!  I clung to verses like Isaiah 54:5 that states, “For your Maker is your husband…” and took them very literal.  I remember lying in bed at night and just feeling this HUGE LONGING to have Jesus hold me in his arms.  I called it a divine ache.  I used to write love notes and songs to God.  It’s great to love God, but it’s a problem to be IN love with God.  Why?  Because that’s not how our relationship to him or her is supposed to be.  I used to really struggle with the idea that God created us with needs that he himself could not meet.  For instance, we are created with sexual needs, but God alone can’t fulfill that!  I used to wonder why, why did God create us with needs he alone could not meet?

I think part of the reason I lost my faith was because I was seeking a human response to my human idea of him.  I needed advice.  I asked him.  I never “heard back.”  I’d try to be intimate with God (emotionally) and then felt so frustrated when I didn’t feel any connect.  My Christian school didn’t help combat my false thinking, however.  One night at a student meeting, they even turned the lights down and lit candles so we could “be alone with God.”  Dim the lights?  Light Candles?!  To pray?  That’s warped.

So I had all these emotions and desires and NEEDS that God wasn’t meeting.  And I didn’t know why!  Then, I fell in love with Nikki.  My human needs started being met.  I had someone to hold me.  I had someone to listen to me and give me feedback.  I had someone I could be emotionally naked with.  And likewise, I had someone to hold.  I had someone to listen to and give feedback.  I had someone being emotionally naked with me.  We both had sexual awakenings.  For the first time in my life, I experienced both emotional and physical intimacy.  It was so euphoric that I used to just lay on top of Nikki, touching every part of me to her (as much as I could), and we’d share how we wished our spirits could just come out of our bodies and collide into one.  But even without a literal spirit meshing, I still felt so connected with her.  This made what I viewed as a relationship with God SO PALE in comparison.  And I didn’t even miss God for around two years.

Thankfully, I still have a beautiful connection and intimacy with Nikki.  It’s one thing that keeps me believing in God.  But looking back, I now realize the needs Nikki meets in me were needs I was previously trying to meet through God (except the sexual needs, of course; I was so repressed in that area that I was pretty much asexual anyway).  It’s made me realize how much I had humanized God.  But you know, maybe spirituality kind of follows Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.  First, your physical needs to be met.  Then, your psychological/emotional needs have to be met.  THEN, after those are met, you can reach for self-actualization, where I believe God could be found.  I wanted to understand God, but some of my physical and emotional needs were not met.  Now that they are, I have a completely different idea of God.

Perhaps now I can truly begin my search for God.  I have to put away the romanticized ideas and sappy love songs and save those for Nikki!  But even though it’s still kind of hard for me to believe, I feel like in order to truly understand myself, I must find God.  Is he deep within my spiritual core?  Is he out there on another plane?  Does he only exist in my thoughts?  Do I only exist in his?

I really appreciate the comments left on my post from yesterday.  Hearing your thoughts really helps keep me thinking, and it’s so good to realize that we are all on the same journey.


Today, thoughts of God fill my head.  It wasn’t too long ago that I was fine declaring myself an agnostic, except this desire in my heart to break out in song worshiping God didn’t seem to leave, and that intrigued and confused me.  One night awhile back, at a time when I was almost sure Christianity had it wrong, I had a dream.  I was back at my old Christian college, in chapel, and the band was playing “From the Inside Out” from Hillsong.  I remember the congregation began to sing, “Everlasting.  Your light will shine when all else fades.  Never ending.  Your glory goes beyond all fame.”  And in my dream, I was so sad, because as much as I wanted to break into song and praise with everyone around me, I just COULDN’T.  Because I just COULDN’T believe.  And that made me so sad.  I woke up sad.  I felt sad the rest of the day.  I figured I was just mourning my belief in Jesus.

But now, a few months later, I’m questioning it all again.  IS God out there?  Does he or she care about us?  Is he a personal God that wants a relationship with us?  I used to be SO FIRM in my beliefs on this, and to hear anyone questioning this would’ve broken my heart.  To hear myself question it seems almost strange, honestly, as firm as I once was in my belief and my “relationship” with God.  But honestly, how can ANY of us find God?  I don’t know who I’m looking for!  I don’t know who God is.  I know what writers of the Bible say.  Can they be trusted?  I know what other Christians and Pastors say.  Can they know?  I used to think I knew.  Did I?  Did I have it right back then?  Is God hardening my heart?  Is God hiding?  Is God leaving me in the dark?  Did God allow me to fall in love with a woman then abandon me?  Did I abandon God?  I don’t feel like I abandoned God.  That is certainly nothing I would do WILLFULLY and KNOWINGLY.  Why would anyone who truly believe walk away from God?

These are questions that frequent my mind.  I don’t think they have answers.  I ask out loud for whoever God is to please reveal him or herself… and I’m still in the dark.  I read the Bible, but I’m not sure I can trust its writers.  I believe they believed what they wrote, but that doesn’t make it true.

Perhaps at this point in my life, all I can do worship when I feel the desire to worship and hope that God, whoever that Being is, hears.  But why would God even care to hear my words?   Why would God care to feel my emotions?  Can we bring him down to our level of emotions and words?  SHOULD WE bring him down to our level of emotions and words?

Maybe he is real.  Maybe that’s why I can’t shake him from my mind.  I want to serve him, but I don’t know what he wants.  I want to know him, but I don’t know who I’m looking for.  At this point, all I can do is grope in the dark.

To update on my life, things are going GREAT for Nikki and I.  Nikki just got promoted to become a manager of the store (a major chain) she has worked at for the last year and a half.  That means more than DOUBLE the money she was making.  I’m finishing up school, about to graduate with my second degree.  I’m receiving an award for  most outstanding student in my major in a couple of weeks.  My parents are doing wonderful.  Nikki and my’s love is strong and growing.

But to end this post, why do thoughts of God haunt me?  Does that mean you’re real…?

Full of questions.  Lost for answers.


I just reviewed my entry from December 2009, and I must say, I’m pretty proud of myself.  This time last year, my main hope was that by now, present day, I’d be out and open about my relationship with Nikki.  When I wrote that post, I feared that I would never get the courage to come out to my parents or even be open on Facebook.  I’m proud to say that I’ve been out to my parents almost 7 months now, and I’m out and open on Facebook as well.

Since my last update, Nikki has also come out to her family.  Her parents have taken it much better than mine!  She had some concerned family members (thinking I turned her gay or something), but all in all, things are going really well there.  Her mom appears especially supportive.

This year, Christmas is really special, because for the first time in Nikki and my’s 2 and a half year relationship, we are going to spend Christmas TOGETHER!  YAY!  The past two Christmases, Nikki has had to go out of town to stay with her family while I stayed in town with mine.  That time apart was painful, and our families not knowing we were missing someone special made it even worse.  But this year, Nikki will be coming to Christmas with me at my family’s get together, and then I will be heading to her parents’ home with her to spend the weekend with her whole family!  I asked Nikki to make sure it was ok for me to come, as we will be spending a couple of nights there, and she asked her mom if it was ok and wouldn’t cause controversy, to which her mom replied somewhere along the lines of, “Oh, no!!  Of course you can bring her.”   Nikki said she seemed very eager to stress that me coming and staying was just fine.  This truly brings joy to my heart.

My parents are doing ok.  I brought Nikki to Thanksgiving this year, and at first my dad just ignored us both, but at least no one said anything negative.  Dad acknowledged me later, but never acknowledged Nikki.  Mom will at least talk to her and acknowledge her.  My aunts gave Nikki a hug and welcomed her.  At least I have them.  And at least I CAN bring her and it not be a problem.  I know this isn’t so with many gay couples.

Wow, a lot has really happened since I last updated.  My lesbian cousin married her girlfriend.  Nikki and I went, and one of my aunts tagged along (the other, the mother of one of the brides, was already there).  Despite my pessimism, the 8 hour drive was actually kind of nice.  What was even nicer was seeing two families come together to CELEBRATE a lesbian union.  It was awesome.  And it has inspired Nikki to start planning our wedding.  🙂

Looking back at the last few months, I’m really very lucky.  One, I was able to witness an awesome and joy-filled lesbian wedding being celebrated by MY family members!  Most people have never even been to a gay wedding, more or less the one of someone in their family!  Two, our families, despite mine’s initial reaction, have actually taken things very well.  No one was disowned.  No one was banned from visiting.  Nikki and I are both welcome at both of our parents’ houses and family gatherings.

Coming out was really scary.  (Like, REALLY scary.)  But let me imagine one moment where I’d be if I hadn’t come out.  I’d be spending Christmas without my girl AGAIN.  I’d still be fearful of  having conversations with my family and friends.  I’d be agonizing over how to come out and when to come out.  But now that it’s over and done, life is a lot better.  Sometimes I click on my Facebook profile just to see “In a Relationship with Nikki ****”.  I love posting all of our pictures for our friends to see, not just the non-couplish ones.

This year, we really are celebrating family.  Our WHOLE family.


It’s been slightly over two months since I came out to my family.  It started out really rocky, but I believe things are gradually progressing upward.

My extended family has been AWESOME.  Aunts, uncles, and cousins have offered me their homes, their ears (and sometimes their beer), and I have never felt so supported and loved.  One great thing that has come out of my coming out has been the realization of how great my extended family really is.  My aunts have been inviting Nikki to everything, and I’m finally starting to feel like Nikki is being accepted as part of the family.

Now my parents, well… Dad doesn’t really mention it except to reaffirm that he “loves me always.”  It’s really sweet, but I fear that he still thinks I could be pushed over the edge to suicide at a moments notice.  For Mom, a church group she’s a part of and the assistant pastor “forced” her (her words) to tell them what has been bothering her, so she says she was “forced to tell them about [me].”  But she didn’t tell me how it went or what they said.  And honestly, I don’t care to know.  A lot of those people worked in the school system I grew up in and knew my family personally because of my mentally handicapped brother, whom they often helped.

But check this out.  My 83-year-old grandfather had a heart attack and almost died (bad news, but keep reading).  He was in the cardiac care unit at the hospital that is only 2 and a half miles from my house.  My Mom and aunts wanted to be near, since they all live over 30 minutes away, so they all crashed at my place a few nights.  So my mother, not even two months after my coming out, stayed at my house, slept upstairs in what we pretended to be Nikki’s room for so long, while I slept in our real bedroom, in the same bed with Nikki.  Yup.  And she didn’t say a word.  She was nice to Nikki while she was here.  She even made it a point to tell her bye when she left.

And, if that’s not wild enough, she and my aunts all got drunk while they were here.  That wouldn’t be such a big deal, except I have never, ever, in my whole 23 years of life EVER seen my mom have even a sip of an alcoholic beverage.  They even had me call Nikki to bring home another bottle of wine on her way from work.  Nikki and I were the only sober ones.  I guess I can stop hiding my beer now.

Oh, and my mom is SILLY and GIGGLY when drunk.  Laughing at everything.  Calling my dog “son bitch.”  – “Come here Son Bitch!”  Then she’d look at me and start laughing, “Hahaha… you look just like your Daddy.”  And a few minutes later, “I love you so much… you are my baby… I love you so much…”  By the end of the night, I had put her to bed upstairs, and she said she felt like she was gonna puke and started gagging.  I put one hand on my hip and said, “Now, if you’re going to be sick, you better go in that bathroom.  There is no sense in puking in that bed and all over my carpet.  Go to the bathroom!”  And she looked me, paused, and then busted out laughing saying, “You look just like your daddy.  I don’t know how many times I’ve seen him with that same look while on his hands and knees cleaning up my puke.”  And with that, I told her goodnight and went back downstairs.

Don’t ever think you know your parents.  EVER.  That’s all I have to say.

And in less bazaar news, Nikki and I went on vacation last week!  It was great.  We stopped in to see Nikki’s family and stayed with them a couple of nights since it was on the way.  We decided to stay a night longer since it looked like the remaining 4 hours home would be very stormy.  I called my parents to let them know I wouldn’t be home till the next day.  So my mom asks, “Have you told them yet?”  “No,” I reply.  “Well, do you plan to spill the beans while you’re there?”  “Not really; not this time,” I say.  “Well, we’ve had to eat beans!”  Unsure of how to respond, there was a slight pause, then mom says, “Your daddy is over there laughing.”  Then she started laughing.  (Maybe she had been drinking?  Haha.)  We ended our conversation, and I figured I’d talk to them the next day when I was home.  Well, about two hours later, she calls back.  “I just had to call you.  I had a bad feeling.  Are you ok?”  “Yes Mom,” I say.  “We’re not going anywhere tonight.  I’ve just been playing with her little sisters.”  She responds, “Well, I just had to check.  I was afraid you told them and they kicked y’all out, and well… I don’t want anybody being mean to my baby!!  I love you so much, and I don’t want anybody being mean to you!”

And with that, I smiled, realizing that maybe, just maybe, they’ll be alright after all.


I did it.  I really did it.  I didn’t think I could do it, but I did it.  I came out to my parents.

This has been the hardest experience of my entire lifetime.  As a family, we’ve gone through several tragedies, but personally, this has been perhaps the most painful thing to happen to me in my short 23 year life so far.

So what happened?  Well, my cousin in a lesbian.  I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned that on here before.  She and her girlfriend are getting married in November, and she asked me to play guitar at their wedding.  I didn’t tell my mom.  I figured my aunts would tell her.  And a couple of weeks later, they did.  Mom called me upset and “thrown for  a loop” since I didn’t talk to her about it.  The conversation went a little like this:

Mom:  So… why didn’t you tell me about Holly?

Me:  Oh, uh… you mean… I guess you’re uh, ah, talking about her commitment ceremony.

Mom:  And you’re supposed to play guitar.  Why didn’t you tell me?

Me:  Well Mom, you know, I knew you’d freak out.  And I figured your sisters should be the one to tell you.

Mom:  Well, I’m hurt.  And I’m confused.  And I just worry about you.

Me:  Why do you worry about me, Mom?

Mom:  I just do!  You don’t date men…

Me:  *Heart attack*

Mom:  You there?

Me:  Yeah.

Mom:  Is there something you need to tell me and your Daddy?


Mom:  Is there something?

Me:  What do you want me to tell you?

Mom:  I don’t know.


Mom:  Well, it’s just not natural.  I don’t care how accepting society is becoming, it’s just NOT NATURAL.  It’s not what God wants.

And then our conversation changed and quickly ended, as I was holding back tears.  I went into the living room where my fiance (Nikki… she graduated (yay!) … I’ll share her name now.) was sitting.  I was welling up with tears.  “What’s wrong??” she asked.  “Well, no one’s dead, don’t worry,” I replied.  “Mom just… she pretty much flat out asked me if I was gay, and I couldn’t tell her!  I want to so bad, but I couldn’t tell her!”  And thus began a night of consistent, hard crying.

I was TORE UP emotionally.  I stayed up crying well passed 3 A.M.  I almost threw up on Nikki while she held me.  I tried to calm myself down by listening to some music and writing my Mom a letter.  It was super long.  But I didn’t send it.  The next morning, I was still SO UPSET.  Nikki said, “I want you to send them the email.  We can’t keep going through this.  You can’t keep putting yourself through this.”  Later, my best friend called.  She too said I just needed to get it over with.  I started crying on the phone with her.  She said it was the first time in our 11 year friendship that she’d ever heard me cry.  I knew they were both right.

Nikki had to go to work, but she called me every hour to make sure I was ok.  My friend called frequently too.  Finally, around 7 PM, I called Nikki at work.

Me:  So, I finally put my mom’s email address in to send the letter.

Nikki:  Yeah… are you going to send it?

Me:  I don’t know!  I want to.  I just… I just can’t!

Nikki:  Just send it, baby.

Me:  I don’t think I can.

Nikki:  Do it for me.

Me:  I just… I can’t take it back.

Nikki:  Well, I support you with whatever you decide.

*Silence*  I put my mouse over the send button.

Me:  Ok, I put my mouse over the send button.

Nikki:  Just get it over with.  You can do it.

And in a moment of mental exhaustion, I sent it.

Me:  Ok… ok… I pressed send.  I did it.  I did it.

Nikki:  Thank you, Baby.  I’ll be home soon.  I’ll keep talking to you now too.  It can only get better.

The only thing I could think was, “There, I sent the damn email!”  One problem, though, was that I didn’t know when my mom would read it.  30 minutes later, my phone rang.  It was my parents!  OMG.

Me:  *soft and sad*  Hey.

Mom and Dad:  Hey!  How are you?

Me:  Well, to be honest I’ve been kind of upset the last two days.

Mom:  Why Baby?

Me:  I just sent you an email about it a few minutes ago; I guess you haven’t read it.

Mom:  Talk to me, Baby.

Me:  It’s in the email.

Mom:  Are you crying?

Me:  Yes.

Mom and Dad:  We love you.

Mom:  I’ll go read it.  I love you no matter what.

Dad:  I do too.

Mom:  We’ll call you back.

An hour passed.  I paced back and forth in my house.  I was terrified.  Why weren’t they calling back?  I mean, it was a long letter, but not THAT long.  Finally, after over an hour, my phone rang.

Mom and Dad:  *apparent they had both been crying*  We love you always.

Dad:  I love you.  Nothing will change that.  And we always want you to come around.  But promise me this.  Promise me ONE THING.  Just promise me ONE THING.  If I have ever asked anything from you, it’s this, and you better remember me asking you this for the rest of your life.

(My heart almost stopped… or maybe it actually did.  OMG what was he going to say?  I’d never heard him this serious.  I’ve never heard him cry.)

Dad:  Bury me.

Me:  What?

Dad:  Bury me.

Me:  What do you mean???

Dad:  Outlive me.

Bless their hearts.  They main thing they were concerned about was me possibly killing myself!  I didn’t see that coming!  I assured them I wasn’t going to, they said a few “I love yous,” and we got off the phone after I told them I’d come over the next day.

I felt pretty good!  They didn’t say anything negative.  I felt so happy and relieved!  Little did I know what the next day would bring.

The best way I can describe it is attending my own funeral (and my death was my fault).  Mom didn’t even hug me when I walked in.  She just lay there, under a blanket, with a rag she was using to wipe her tears.  After a period of silence, my Dad came in and sat with us.  For over an hour, they said hurtful, ignorant things about both gay people and Nikki.  They were upset.  They were angry.  They were venting.  It was horrible.  Mom doesn’t even want me to have my inheritance since they’ll be no one to pass it on to.  (And they DO NOT want me to adopt because it is no way to raise children.)

It’s been two weeks.  Things are a little better.  Even though they’ve said hurtful and ignorant things here and there (my mom thinks I chose this to be different), I believe they are honestly just trying to move on.  And I know they’ll need time.  Even though it’s been painful, I still feel better.  I have my integrity.  I have my Nikki, who I can now honestly say I’m proud of.  Indeed, I have my pride.  And as hurtful as my parents have been, I feel pretty good about myself.

I feel like a real gay person now…

… now where’s my t-shirt?


I was finally, for the first time in my out-to-myself-and-a-few-other-friends life (whew!), beginning to get up the courage to come out to my mother.  I feel like when I come out to my mom, then I can truly consider myself OUT.  And I want that so bad.  My best friend, who frequently chats with mom, said she thought now was a good time to tell my mom too.

But today, near the end of our phone conversation, my best friend threw in, “Oh, and uh, maybe now’s not as good of a time to tell your mom you’re gay as I thought.”  “What do you mean?  What did she say?”  I said nervously.  She continued, “Well, I was just chatting with her on Google, and she was saying how she prays every day for you to find a nice Christian man.”

*Smacks forehead*

Ok, so I know it’s not really bad.  It’s not like she said, “I just don’t think I could ever have a gay child.”  But I thought we were making progress!!  I know it’s normal to try to hang on to some hope that I’ll live out her dreams for me, but I really thought she was past the wishing a good guy on me stage.  I don’t know how many times she said that in high school.  “All I want is for you to be happy.  Find a good man like your daddy and papa and be happy.”  Even though I didn’t consider myself gay at the time, I would say, “Well, mom, it’s not like I have to find a man to be happy.”  At the time, I honestly thought I’d be single my whole life and “married to Jesus.”  Why?  Because I loved Jesus so much?  I thought so.  Really, I thought God had given me “the gift of singleness”, whatever the hell that is, so that I could be a missionary.  Now uh… I see that I just wasn’t into the boys… at all… ever… not even the celebrity ones.  (Really, do you know how embarrassed I felt when my friends would ask me who my favorite actor was, and I could never think of one, but my obsession with Winona Ryder was very evident.  I would think, “Man, they’re gonna think I’m gay or something.”  I wonder why??)

Maybe “the gift of singleness” is Christian for “GAY!”  “Hmm… I have no desire to date a boy.  I’ve never found anyone attractive or had the desire to be romantic with one.  I must have the gift of singleness!!!”  Or asexuality, but, I’ve never met an asexual, so I have no idea what their experience is like.  Even when I honestly thought God had bestowed upon me “the gift of singleness”, I would feel an occasional hot in my pants for some ladies.  Just being honest!  But I sure tried to shove those feelings far, far away.

Well, now that we’re back from that small rabbit hole, I guess I just wanted to say that… *sigh* I really want to come out to my mom, but I don’t want to crush her dreams for me (or her opinion of me).  I know my situation could be much, MUCH worse, but… I gotta stop being a wimp.  My fiance deserves that.


A good majority of the visits to this blog are people searching for things like, “Love God, love people” or “fulfill the law.”  It makes sense why Google would send them here; it is the title of my blog after all.

If you are one of those searchers, you probably quickly figure out that this blog isn’t what you were searching for.  But please, don’t let that stop you from reading.  Don’t you want to hear the ramblings of a gay ex-Christian girl?

I wasn’t one of those lukewarm Christians, either.  Even my very Christian mom called me “fanatical” when I threw away all my R-rated DVDs (that I’m now having to buy back… gah!).  I’ve been on international mission trips.  I have a Bachelor’s degree that focuses on mission work!  I went to Bible College because I wanted to explore the Bible so much deeper than my church was taking me.  I wanted to serve Jesus more than anything.  I wanted to make Him happy.  He was my whole identity… my whole life… my passion… my love.

I had “lingering doubts” about God throughout my entire born-again life, but I always shoved those to the back of my mind, attributing them to Satan or my fallen nature.  When I fell in love with my best friend, and she actually fell in love back, I had to confront a part of me I had also shoved to the back of my mind: the nagging feeling that I liked girls, and I had no interest in the boys.  After many prayers and tears, I finally accepted that gay is just what I was, and I would never be happy trying to play it straight.  However, this was in great conflict with my church’s teachings.

To make a long story short, I considered myself a gay Christian for about a year, but I could not ignore how hated I felt by my so-called spiritual family… people who were supposed to be closer than blood.  I also had to confront that other nagging feeling in me: that Christianity was a lie.  It was a long process, one I’m still going through, but I can honestly say that I feel much “freer” now than I did when I was supposedly free in Christ.  My brain just cannot believe in him anymore.  It conflicts with my reasoning.

But I’m not here to convince you lurkers to leave your faith.  I couldn’t do that anyway.  I would just like you to read some thoughts from someone who used to be one of your own… but someone most of you would damn to hell if you met in the streets.   The reason I want you to read is not so you can sort of get to know ME… but because someone close to you is probably going through the same things I did.  Please, don’t hate them.  Seek to understand.


So, last post I was all geared up and ready to come out to my mother.  I really thought it was gonna happen, honest.  But… it hasn’t happened yet, mostly out of fear of how my dad will react.  But even though my mother doesn’t officially know… she knows. Her asking my best friend.  Her buying my best friend’s baby a lot of stuff and giving them money because “she’ll never have a grandchild.”  (Which, btw, my fiance (I now call my girl my fiance because we are very committed to each other and are only waiting for the day gay marriage is legalized in our state to officially marry) and I do plan to adopt one of these days; so I think she’s wrong!)

I honestly believe my mom looks at me as a gay woman now.  She’s just waiting for me to officially tell her.  And even though I’ve been sooo worried about how she is going to react to my revelation, I know that she has been coming to terms with it by herself.  And I, personally, think that’s wonderful.  She can hopefully go through all the terrible feelings of loss and anger parent’s normally feel when a child comes out at her own pace.  In other words, I didn’t throw her there.  She’s decided by herself to go there.

And I’m seeing progress towards her acceptance in how she treats me.  For instance, in high school and the beginning of my first college endeavor, she used to bug me all the time to dress girly so I could attract guys.  You know, wear something besides a random band t-shirt, old jeans, and skate shoes.  Wear some makeup!  (My mom is a makeup freak.)  She used to hurt me all the time by the way she’d tell me to look better, basically.  I didn’t even know I was gay then; I just knew that I felt absolutely ridiculous is “girly” clothing.

But yesterday, she actually came to visit me, and I took her to the mall since she never gets out.  I wore a random Nirvana t-shirt, my favorite pair of jeans, my new sneakers, and as always, my hair pulled back in a ponytail.  We were walking through the mall, and my mom started to say, “You know, maybe if you wore some girlier clothes…” and I, already offended, cut her off and said, “But mom… I’ve had this shirt for years, and I love it.”  And then she finished.  “No, no, I don’t care how you dress.  You are you and it’s fine with me.  I’m just saying maybe you could get a job.”  I then proceeded to tell her how I wear outfits I absolutely loathe to job interviews, and it still doesn’t help.  But mom’s statement about how she doesn’t care, that I’m just being me and she’s fine with that… maybe I’m reading too much into it… but it felt like an acceptance of me as ME, gay and all.

That made me feel really good.