My eyes were swollen and my heart was empty. The only man who had loved me has drifted away. On his way out that maple color door, he told me, “Raising a fool would have been better than giving birth to a fag”. As I stood motionless dismayed at what he said, the only thing that I could ponder up in my mind was “I wish I could stop being a fag”. Being a fag did not offer me any added benefits. I was often over looked, underrepresented, and always misunderstood. It seemed as if wherever I went I couldn't escape the grips of its hold. How come I had to be born this way?
I didn't ask for this…
On that day, my father walked out on me and disowned me. He left me in the house with my mother who believed that I was mentally challenged. My mom, who attained a Ph.D. in Psychology, told me that in order for me to get well I had to pray and fast. She, with all of her education, believed that if I ask the Lord to purge me from this unrighteous desire, I could be cured. Well I took the expert advice of my mom, not by choice but out of fear that she would put me out of her house. So I prayed this prayer every night:
“Lord, I know that I have sinned against you. Please remove this desire from me and no longer allow me to have this same gender attraction. I am sorry Lord and I want to change. Please help me.”
I prayed this simple prayer passionately because I really wanted to change. I felt as if I was an embarrassment to my family and I would soon face the wrath of God if I did not change. God became very terrifying to me. I started to envision God as a punisher rather than a redeemer. After my mom had instructed me to fast and pray, the next day I had received a call from her pastor. He asked me to come down to the church after school because he wanted to share something with me. I thought to myself, “Oh Lord!” After school I caught the metro down to the church to meet with him. I can’t remember the entire two-hour conversation, but I do remember this. As I sat with him on one of the pews in the church he told me this, “God did not make Adam and Steve, but he made Adam and Eve.” I left the church feeling horrible and I was practically disgusted with myself.
I didn't ask for this…
I went back to my room and cried. I cried not because of what my mother’s pastor said to me, I cried because he knew. He knew that I was a disgusting fag that needed to pray and fast in order to be cured. After I was done crying I didn't feel better. I didn't want anyone to see me or talk to anyone. So for the second time I laid across my bed and I prayed the same prayer.
“Lord, I know that I have sinned against you. Please remove this desire from me and no longer allow me to have this same gender attraction. I am sorry Lord and I want to change. Please help me.”
Days later, I still felt disgusting. However, I knew that this day was going to be unlike none other because it was Sunday. I had to get up and go to church with my family and face my pastor again. As reluctant as I was, I knew that I had to go. When I walked into the church my mother made me sit with the deacons in the front row. When church begun everything was going as usual. As service drew towards an end, the pastor opened the alter for prayer. This is when things got unusual. The pastor begun saying that someone in the room has been struggling with the spirit of Homosexuality and today was the day for them to be delivered. My heart started racing as I could hear my mom send a loud cry from the other side of the church. So, of course, I stood up and walked towards the pastor. As I stood in front of him and the entire church, the only thing I wanted was to be delivered. He started to pray for me and almost immediately I was overtaken with emotion and fell to the floor. As I rolled around the floor crying out to the Lord to save me, I could hear the pastor and others around shouting, clapping, and praying for me. When I got off the floor the pastor told me to come over to him. As he and I faced the church of about 200 people, he asked me if I still felt gay? In on loud shout, I screamed into the microphone, “No! It’s Gone!”
The entire church went up into a frantic praise, and just like that I was delivered from Homosexuality. However, when I got back to my room that night and I was forced to face myself in the mirror, I still felt gay. I still was attracted to men. But I knew now that I openly renounced my “gay lifestyle” I could not continue living an openly gay life. So all throughout my teenage years I lived two life styles. To my family and church, I was a heterosexual man who had been healed from my gayness. However, behind closed doors I was meeting up with guys off the Internet and from apps on my phone. These guys allowed me to feel free just for a few moments.
I didn't ask for this…
In total, I probably had secretly met up with about 13 different guys. Most of them I never saw after that night because I feared that our circles may cross and that I would be exposed. Out of those 13 guys, I had unprotected sex with about 9 of them. One day I woke up and found a large lump on the side of my neck. I didn't think it was anything and my mother thought it might have been from me sleeping on my neck wrong. So for days I applied ice to it but I didn't see any change. Finally, my mother took me to the doctor and that's when we found out I was HIV+
I didn't ask for this…
My mother was angry with me more then she was concerned about my health. She kicked me out of her house at 19. The day that I dreaded finally came. I was on the street with nowhere to go and no one to turn too. I sought medical treatment but I couldn't afford the medication. For months I tried reaching out to my mother for assistance but she ignored me. Finally, a friend who I was staying with told me that he would come with me to go talk to her face to face. I had nothing to lose. Together, he and I went to visit my mother. After months of not seeing one another or talking to each other, our conversation lasted a little more than thirty minutes. Although it was evident that my mother was still very angry with me she finally decided to help me find and pay for medical treatment. Unfortunately, by then it was too late, the HIV turned into AIDS. My mother did support me during this period and helped to make my last days peaceful and beautiful.
I didn't ask for this…
I’m at peace with all of this now. I don't hate my father, my mother, or my pastor. They didn't know that by condemning me and making me feel less of a person would eventually lead me into actions that would jeopardize my health and ultimately my life. I’m sharing this story with you because I don't want you to have to end up like I did. Learn how to love yourself and always know that God did not make any mistakes when he created you. Unfortunately for me, I didn't know that when I was down there. No one told me that God loved me despite my shortcomings. No one told me that God created me from his likeness and everything about me points back to who God is.
It is important that you share my message because there are so many people who are living like I did. Living a life of shame and lies. Help me by sharing this with everyone you know so that they won't have to wait until they get to Heaven to find out that God loved them just as they are.
In Loving Memory of all LGBTQ lives that were lost because of the lacked of support they needed to live the life that God had called them to live.
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