My struggle with unwanted same-sex attraction

My parents struggled to know what to do when at an early age I asked for a doll and a petticoat for Christmas. Though embarrassed, they conceded to my request because they were advised that if they didn’t make a big deal about it, these odd and unnatural things would go away more quickly.

When and how did I become aware of my same-sex attraction, this thing that seemed to rise up from somewhere deep within? I don’t remember a time it didn’t exist. Young boys come to an understanding of their sexuality at different times and in various ways, and as I became aware of mine, I knew I was “different.” I preferred playing house to playing baseball. When the other boys joked about girls and their bodies, there was no allure or fascination for me. I felt safe when I was with the girls, and I identified with their interests. I felt like I belonged when I was with them.

One day, when I was in my early teens, I asked my father what the word “homosexual” meant. I had some idea, but his awkward response was something like, “Uh, those people are sick. It’s awful. I didn’t know about that stuff until I was 23. It’s when men, well,” and he stumbled through a brief explanation.

Little did he know that I was already sexually active with a male friend from church and was struggling to make sense of it all. I needed guidance in understanding and processing my shaky sexual identity; I needed to find a safe place to talk; I needed to find refuge for my troubled heart. My father was simply not able to go there with me, and I took on a lot of shame that day.

Sometime later, I said spontaneously to my friend, “You’re a homosexual.” He retorted, “You are, too.” That accusation pierced me and became a weapon the enemy has used to attack my personal and sexual identity for years. It became a fundamental part of how I thought of myself. Is this my identity? Am I hardwired this way? Is this who I really am?

I know my father loved me. He was a devout Christian man who provided well for our family and did the best he could to train and discipline his children. But he was emotionally absent from me and unable to connect with me in the ways I needed him.

My brothers were more athletic than I, and somehow I didn’t fit into my father’s idea of normal, acceptable and masculine. He was critical of my sensitivity and could not identify with this son who would rather read a book than go fishing and rather take art lessons than learn to pass a football.

I was always more closely connected with my mom than with my dad. She seemed to understand me better, which created a natural bond between us. We did many activities together, and I felt she cared much more about me. Even though nothing overtly inappropriate ever happened between us, we were likely more emotionally tied to each other than what was healthy for either of us. In spite of her insecurities, she was more of a leader in our home than my dad; at times her influence bordered on dominance and manipulation.

Now I’m a grown man. I’m a graduate of one of our Mennonite colleges and am happily married to a godly Christian woman. We have children and grandchildren whom I dearly love. My wife and I are active members in our congregation, yet my struggle with this unwanted same-sex attraction persists.

I gave full disclosure of this struggle to my wife before we were married. Being a private person, it has been difficult for me to discuss this openly, since it makes me feel exposed and vulnerable. My wonderful wife has never been anything other than loving and supportive of me, even though she can’t begin to identify with or understand what this is all about. I try to be open to discuss her questions and fears because I know this is on her mind a lot and is painful for her. Even though we don’t dwell on this on a regular basis, we carry the weight of it together.

I’ve been in counseling for many years. My insightful and compassionate counselor has been tremendously helpful in helping me understand, sort out, make some sense of and deal with what is happening inside me. In addition to counseling, I’ve done a lot of reading and attended several seminars on homosexuality. The Lord has granted me great release from the guilt and shame I have carried over the years, but though I have prayed fervently again and again for the Lord to take these strong urges and relentless desires away from me, I have not found complete release from them.

Whether homosexuality has genetic, psychological, experiential, emotional and/or spiritual roots, I don’t believe it is God’s intent or design. Neither is blindness, schizophrenia, depression, alcoholism, demonic oppression, or feelings of inferiority. While these are not part of God’s perfect plan, they are realities with which many of us need to live.

I have come to understand that my sexual orientation is not the defining characteristic of my identity. My core identity is rooted in Jesus Christ, and I am a child of God. I am not first of all a homosexual who happens to be a Christian; I am a Christian who struggles with same-sex attraction.

At some point, we each need to decide who or what is going to be the source of authority in our life. Will it be Scripture, the traditions of the church, science or personal experience? While my journey and lack of a miraculous delivery do not match up with what I have longed and prayed for, I choose Scripture as the bedrock of faith, action and reality. I believe it is God’s plan for one man and one woman to live together in the mystical union we call marriage. I believe that this is what the Bible teaches, and I have chosen to act upon it, difficult though it is for me at times. I need to choose daily to remain faithful to my wife and to the conviction that God’s intent and desire for me does not include living my life as a practicing homosexual.

In addition to my wife and counselor, I have several dear friends, straight men, who know about my struggle and who provide understanding, warm acceptance and continuous prayer backing. The love and support from these people and the great mercy of God have helped me not to compromise the life and moral standards I believe God is asking me to pursue. They have helped build my resolve to stay the course. Some days I feel vulnerable and find myself closer to the edge than I wish I were, so when I hear of a Christian who has “fallen,” I bow my head and ask for strength. That could so easily have been me.

As I look back over my life, I realize I have grown and changed in many ways. I know that I have more hope for the future than I did 10 years ago. I’m learning to be more confident as a person, more willing to share my struggles with others, more open to challenge and growth and more dependent on God for healing and hope. I have not yet mastered the art of letting God meet all my needs and fill all my longings; neither have I figured out how to calm the storm that rages in my soul or ease the pain and loneliness I sometimes feel. But I choose to submit to God, to be obedient to my understanding of his Word, to hunger and thirst after righteousness and to turn from despair and hopelessness. I choose to strive toward holiness.

This struggle, to my surprise, has become a pathway to intimacy with God and has become a compelling force that has driven me closer to him. The emotional absence of my biological father has propelled me on a relentless course of pursuing my heavenly Father. Through this valley of darkness I have become more sensitive to the pain and loneliness of others. I believe God can use our struggles and brokenness to help us be more pliable in his hands, more understanding and forgiving of the sins and addictions of others, more humble and more dependent on him.

Many books and articles have been written on the subject of same-sex attraction. Some of these promote the perspective that since the Bible declares homosexuality a “sin” and an “abomination,” those who struggle with same-sex attraction need to repent, turn from their sin and be forgiven and healed. Period. I find this simple solution leaves me feeling empty, unacceptable, cold and misunderstood. I have repented; I have asked for forgiveness. And yet I struggle.

There are also many in the church who have promoted the perspective that God has created some people with same-sex attraction, that this is normal and good and should therefore be embraced and celebrated. We are being asked not only to accept actively gay people into full membership in the body of Christ but to embrace them as leaders in our churches.

I submit that we as a body of believers follow a loving, gentle, middle path as an alternative to the two sharply contrasting perspectives described above. We need grace and truth; we need compassion and principles. How does one discount the biblical teachings on human sexuality and sexual purity? I have come to believe that same-sex attraction in itself is not a sin, but the acting out of that temptation is a sin.

Since the tendency to live outside biblical boundaries is common to us all, let’s surround one another with love and mutual accountability. And let’s be a church community that responds with grace and mercy rather than judgment and condemnation to those who find themselves struggling with unwanted same-sex attraction.

Do I struggle? Yes. Have I made some progress? Yes. Is there any hope for people like me? Absolutely. Do I believe God can still receive honor and glory through my life and my experiences? As I yield to Him, yes.

Dear Father, I pray, help me understand what it means to live “like a man,” to be the person you have called me to be, using the gifts and strengths you have given me, to love my wife and family, to serve the church and community, to continue to grow through struggle and to live up to the commitments I have made with faithfulness, integrity and purity. Help me to finish well. Amen.

Some minor details of this story have been altered to protect the anonymity of the author. He and his wife are active members of a Mennonite Church USA congregation.