Let me start off by saying yes, I am a lesbian. That might help you understand this story a little better. Now to the actual story.
I was really big on my faith, then one day that all came crashing down. I was sitting in church just like any other Sunday. When all of a sudden my mom came to me crying. I asked her what was wrong, and she said the preachers wife had just pulled her aside. She had told my mom that her and the preacher were going to talk to me about being a lesbian. She told my mom that if they couldn’t change me, I would have to leave the church. She also told my mom she was a bad parent for letting it happen in her house. At this time I got up and walked out. I love how the first thing I was taught at this church is to “Never judge anyone, because the Lord loves all his children.” I pretty much gave up on faith after this.
I am now 19 years old. I go to a local gay church. I love it, they actually accept me for who I am. I can say I actually thank my old preacher and his wife. Because of them I am closer to my mom than I ever was, she’s like my best friend now. I’ve also became the person I am now because of them.
So, around Christmas time, my cousin told me he was gay. I accepted him and that was that. Later in February, he had begun to tell other family members. His mother was last. He was raised by a religious fanatic that can’t tolerate any form of sin. When he finally told her, she said, “No. You cannot be like this! I will pray every night for you. We will get rid of this demon!”
It hurt him that his own mother wouldn’t accept him. Some of my other cousins think it’s disgusting. He’s in a tough place and I wanna help him any way I can.I know there’s nothing wrong with him. I just need a way to help his mom accept him like nothing is wrong. Because nothing is!
My name is Jane and I have grown up around gay people all of my life. When my mother was beginning her musical career in Hollywood, one of her best friends was gay and he was the best man at her wedding. This man, his life partner, and their friends were a part of my life for over 30 years.
Although I was raised in church until I was a teenager, I don’t remember anything that was taught. When I started attending as a young adult, I believed as “other Christians” believed. It wasn’t until after I lost my mom and moved to Eugene, Oregon and met the most amazing group of gay men and women, did I learn about true compassion and love without judgment.
I am a “mama bear” to my friends. They know I am a Christian and they know they will get no judgment from me. The boys call me “mom” and I treat them like my family, because they are. I go with them when they shop for their costumes for drag shows, attend the drag shows, celebrate with them at their commitment ceremonies and have voted for same sex marriage. I am quick to correct those who would put me in the same group as Christians who disrespect anyone because of how they choose to live their life.
I could go on and on but the bottom line is that I believe that all people should be treated with respect, period. Who as we to judge anyone. It is not our job. I’m glad I saw the PSA for this website and I am glad to be a part of it.
When I was a young single mother in the 80’s my daughter was a very determined two year old and we were very poor. I worked two jobs, but it was never enough to cover the most basic needs. I did not have a college education and I had even less skills. I worked as a waitress and a bartender in a very small southern town. Not very lucrative positions there, and both jobs were looked down upon.
Additionally, I went to a very intolerant church at the time, and was often very depressed. During the holidays people kept asking me if I was “getting that baby a tree” and I kept thinking that I needed to “get that baby food” instead. Of course I was not buying a tree. At that point I was so poor that we didn’t have a phone, a TV, or that much food.
My daughter was in daycare while I worked, and she kept insisting that Santa was coming. I felt horrible because I really did not have any money. I planned to go to the dollar store to get a few things for Christmas morning, but then my car broke down about three weeks before Christmas. I had expressed my frustration to a person who was becoming a good friend, a young man named James, who was gay.
I grew up believing that gay men and women had a choice. That choice was to either accept that men and women were made and meant to be together and that marriage was a sacred bond between a man and a woman or they would be doomed to everlasting damnation.
I didn’t believe that men should have these “feelings of inappropriate love” towards other men and the same with women. I knew that if I could squelch my own personal crushes for boys in High School and Jr. High, that a gay man or woman could and should, do the same.
I trusted what my parents taught me was correct, because I thought true happiness started with a marriage between one man and one woman, in a sacred ceremony. I was so adamant about my stand on gay marriage that I lost touch with close friends who didn’t feel the same way I did.
I didn’t realize I had lost touch with so many friends due to my perspective on the matter. It was not until years later when I ran into an old friend from college who told me the way he felt over my rants in regards to the LGBT community. I was surprised and humbled over his admission and complete candor to my utter disregard to the way he may have felt, we were very good friends in college.
Today, Sept. 3rd. 2011, is our 29th anniversary as a committed couple for life. Today we are still not out to many people including our immediate families because of the hate that will be exhibited toward us.
After years of planning, studying and begging physicians to help us, we were blessed with beautiful twin daughters that were conceived by donor insemination in 1988. This was a time when the path to family making for lesbian couples was still being paved. One of us is a professional nurse and the other is a stay at home mother and teacher. Our daughters were home schooled and both received full academic scholarships to college. We parented our girls without any support from the gay community. We live in the middle of the Bible belt and were afraid of having our children taken from us if we publicly practiced a gay lifestyle.
Our daughters always knew they had two mothers and that we were a special family. They were always proud of us and would eagerly tell people they had two mothers when asked which one of us was the mother. When asked “where is your father”, both girls were quick to reply, “we don’t have one.” When they were 11 years old a friend asked them if they missed not having a father and their response was “how can you miss something you never had.” To us they were well adjusted. We had so many compliments on their behaviors and were told how wonderful and respectful our children were.
My name is Tex. I’m a 35-year old gay professional who lives in South Carolina. I struggled with my sexuality most of my life. I can remember being in elementary school and being more interested in the boys than the girls. Even when my friends were making that transition from “girls are icky and stupid” to dating them, I was more interested in my gender. I had always heard I’d grow out of it, but I never did.
I was in love with my best friend. We went through junior and senior high school together and I never told him how I felt. I was afraid that he would reject me and our friendship would be ruined. Even when he went off to boot camp after high school, I just said a teary-eyed good bye and spent the next few months in agony missing him.
I tried to be straight. I dated a few girls, but it was never serious. I dated one girl in high school for almost two years and I even had her move out to Charleston with me when I was stationed there in the Navy. Needless to say, we were “serious” but things didn’t work out and she moved back home after a few months.
I went to church to try and get God to change me. After all, being gay is a “sin,” and I thought if I turned to God and confessed this sin that He would “fix” me. It never happened.
Hi, my name Heather and I’m straight. I have been going to church for a long time and still don’t understand why we are supposed to dislike gay people. I think that is so wrong, people should show how they are, show their true colors.
People always told me, “God loves you for who you are. He doesn’t care what you have done, he always love you.” So if that is true then, God loves all people – straight or gay. So why do gay people get shout down and push out of churches? I think that is so wrong!
I love people for who they are no matter if your gay or not! As long as your true and true to yourself!
I’m a gay teenager, and quite frankly I believe every person on Earth should give a damn about this.
First off, I’m not about to go into this pitiful rant about how my life as a gay kid, for lack of better terminology, sucked. I’m not trying to make anyone feel sorry for me. What I am about to do is try to explain to you the horrendous pain and suffering I’ve had to endure because of my sexuality. What makes it even worse? I’m not even out… and that’s why I give a damn.
I guess I finally realized I was fully gay in eighth grade. I had that cliche moment where something finally clicked and I realized my sexuality. I’m currently 18, and about to start college in the fall. I live in a backwards, pitiful, small town in the South. Like most kids around here, I was raised in the church. I’m there every Sunday morning; I’m even an usher…go figure.
I was raised in an old school Irish Catholic family. I remember the first time I was ever discriminated against, it was by my Uncle Kevin and I was 5 years old. It was my birthday and my whole family came to my grandmother’s house to celebrate. I had always been the liberated child that gave away free hugs (of course that was only if they had a present).
I was running around to all my aunts and uncles, playing with my Aunt Patsy’s hair and asking my Uncle Mark for bear-hugs. It was a day full of laughter, cake and presents. My Uncle Kevin drove there on his motorcycle, you could hear him from all the way down the street. I was so excited for my friends to meet my rebel uncle. As soon as he opened the door, I ran to him with my arms open when he put his hand on my shoulder stopping me from going any further. “Men shake”, he said holding out his hand as if the handshake was going to cure me of all my childhood gayness.
My mother was reminding me of that story the other day. It’s wierd because you would think I would have been embarrased, or sad that he wouldn’t give me a simple hug. I simply just moved on to my Uncle Tommy, he was a better hugger anyway. In retrospect, I realized how much love I had standing behind me; even at such a young age. My big Irish immigrant grandfather, who served in the war let me go as far as putting blue extensions in his hair. I guess I’m one of the lucky ones because in a family who’s religion was primarily against anyone living an “alternative lifestyle,” they pretty much focused on the one verse “Judge not less ye be judged.”
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Many faiths espouse values such as commitment to social justice, love and acceptance. But unfortunately, some also use their doctrines and guidebooks to attack, condemn and discriminate against gay and transgender people.