Entries tagged with "homosexuality"
Throughout my childhood I would always hear my parents talk about stupid teenagers falling in love and being ignorant and self centered. I learned to have the same opinions and always acted more mature for my age because of it. The consequences of this are that whenever I think I like someone and they like me, I immediately reject it as ignorant infatuation and I keep turning down wonderful guys. There aren’t that many guys to pick from when you are a guy yourself, and I am turning them down.
I’m 20 years old and I’m in love with my best friend. Only problem is we are both girls, and I grew up in a traditional christian home. I’m having a hard time accepting that I’m not straight but I’m having an even harder time accepting that she loves me too but we can’t be together.
I’m Caitlin. I’m 16, a lesbian, a transexual woman (MtF), radically left, radically queer, a writer, musician, and a lot of things which I could claim weird ‘cred for. All the same, I’m just a kid. My puberty was prolonged and terrible, but I live a boring, upper middle class, Ann Arbor, white life. I get along with my parents, I try to get a girlfriend and all that growing up shit. I am boring and that is a victory for all the girls like me that haven’t had that option.
I am fifteen years old and have realized that I am in love with my best friend. She has a boyfriend and has told me that won’t change. I’m moving on now, and becoming interested in a guy who is five years older than me. She’s worried, but maybe now she’ll see that I love her. Yes, we’re both female. That terrifies me.
I’ve been cutting myself for five years. I am only 18, so it’s all I’ve ever really known. Since I’ve been developing real emotions and gone through more adult situations, it’s the only coping mechanism I’ve ever really known. Well… that, and music. I am addicted. I can say that without a problem now, and I’m glad I can. Because now that I notice I have these chains on me, I can work to become liberated from them. One thing that helps me is God. I have a very personal relationship with Him, but I fear that everyone looks at me as a hypocrite because I am also gay. I go to a Christian college, and none of the people who know about my sexuality have turned away, yet my mother told me to think about going to a different school if I really am gay… because she refuses to let my grandfather pay for the high tuition if I am not getting anything from it. My step father feels the same way. The longest conversation we have had in the past five years was about 20 minutes of him yelling at me and telling me that I can’t love Jesus and be gay. Yes, a lot of hurt comes from my family. I have been cutting for five years, and me and my step father haven’t talked in five years. That is not a coincidence. I have let their words become a truth in my mind, and it has been holding me back from my dreams ever since. Lately I haven’t known what to do with my life, and with other certain things going on, I’ve just been digging this hole for myself, and it’s been hell.
But I am starting to see the light. I am starting to get answers. I am beginning to feel love again. I am ready to get better.
I want to change the world. The easiest and most effective way to do this (I decided) is to become a director. To make movies. I want people to learn and grow when the watch my films. I want the world to know what I have to say.
That is the prelude and the result of my story.
I think I might be gay. I have had that thought for a long time but I haven’t ever REALLY tested it for sure. Why? Well time plays into it. So does my awkwardness. But I digress. I can figure that part out on my own but what will people think of me? That is the most difficult question to try to answer because fear is a much stronger contributing factor than hope. I decided not to worry about it for the longest time. I can just live life and deal with my other issues (I’m not plagued with issues though). In this struggle to know what the world thinks, I think I finally figured it out. I will tell the world what to think. I will tell stories that CAUSE the world to think (Though it really isn’t all that bad I promise). I look at the stars every night and imagine more. I want the world to know what I see and that has led me to want to become a director.
Also I am pretty decent at making movies.
The only thing that I would ever want to tell the world is not something sad, it is not something complex or profound, but it is the only thing I’ve experienced in my life that is worth telling.
I am a man, and I am in love with a man.
It is small and it is simple, but it has changed my life.
I will take that felling and I will save it and protect it with every fiber of my being until my heart has exhausted itself from the flutters that I feel every time I see his unspeakably beautiful face.
It is magnificent and it is magical and it is truly the only thing that make me feel alive.
I’m a gay woman attending a private Christian university and that definitely contributes to a lot of the drama/rising action in my life.
But the thing I’ve done that I’m most ashamed of happened yesterday. Last night. I, in a fit of depression and self-shame, met a football player in the parking lot of a apartment building nearby. He was a friendly stranger, bulky and soft-spoken with wonderful skin. He was just visiting, his hosts were gone, did I want to come upstairs?
I said yes. Went into his apartment. We sat there for a few hours talking and half-watching T.V., rather awkwardly situated on the couch. Mind you, this is 2 am. He asked me to stay over. I said, why not? He offered me the extra bedroom and went into his own bedroom. I didn’t bring pajamas, a toothbrush…I mean, it was all VERY sudden. But I just lay there in this bed and he’s in the other room and I wondered, just for a second, what the FUCK I was doing there.
No matter. I knocked on HIS bedroom door, invited him into the guest room and asked him to strip. Then asked him to pull his pants down. And then asked him to get a condom.
I never have done anything with a guy before. Never wanted to. He (and he only knew me for 3 hours) was absolutely surprised at my actions. Happy. But surprised. I was sure that this made me, even for just a blessed moment, more of a straight girl and therefore, a Christian, then I’d ever been before.
Never realized how skewed a definition I had for my relationship with Christ and religion and myself.
When we were done, I pulled on my jeans and stood up and felt… AWFUL. I told him I wasn’t staying and he stood there, absolutely handsome and half naked with a perfect body, and thanked me for coming by.
I drove back to my dorm crying.
So. I’m gay and I love Jesus. And since those things, in my mind, don’t go together, I just had extramarital sex to feel closer to my religion.
I’m not sure what’s right anymore.
It started out with a simple hello. He recommended a song, and I went back to my dorm to listen to it. Eventually we started walking home from work. One day I saw him walking to the library on campus. He asked me for my number. On several occasions, he would ask me to study. This struck me as strange, because we did not have any classes together. This made me suspect that he liked me. I would spend many nights on the internet telling my friends about this person. They all agreed that he appeared to be interested.
One weekend a friend from high school came up to visit. This boy, my friend, and I were going to hang out. This boy and I decided to give my friend a late night tour of the university. We frolicked through the autumn leaves, broke out into rapturous song and dance, and eventually ended up sitting on a heat vent discussing serious things. We threw around our thoughts and feelings on religion and sexuality. Finally, he confessed that he was gay. My heart sunk inside.
I still hold these feelings for him. I don’t want to. In my head, I’m pathetic. I have never been in a relationship before, and I think that I never will.
Two years ago, I found a letter from my mother to my father. It was dated in 1996 – I was in third grade. It consisted of hints of infidelity and other references. One night, I spoke to my mother about this letter and found out a sad story.
My mom proceeded to tell me that my father cheated on her when we were young children. Not only was she faced with his infidelity… but he contracted HIV. And his partner was a man.
Strangely, this doesn’t change my day to day thoughts of my father… as a father. He has done everything to support our family and loves us all. He works hard all the time, and shows my mother that he really does care for her.
But it makes me sad for my mother. It makes me sad because I know she loves him so much. She loves him so much to have sex with him. So for years, she has put herself at risk every time they have sex. To be faced with the realization that the man you loved – not only cheated on you… not only cheated on you with someone infected with HIV… but also another man. It makes me so sad that I’ll cry.
I know she had another chance of a pure love. A love with someone who would return it as it was given. That would treat her like a princess. A love that wasn’t with my father and wasn’t with our family. She just married the wrong man.
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