Some perspective from the other side...guest post from a Christian lesbian

I recently had the pleasure of meeting a Christian who also happens to be LGBT.  Naturally, this was very intriguing for me, for the obvious reasons.  I asked her if she could share some of her experiences with me for my blog, and she agreed.  Here is what she sent me, provided without editing or comment from me.

A Rainbow Cross

I remember an evening when I was sitting with the girls of my youth group.  They were chatting about what they wanted in a partner when they got married.  They wanted him to be supportive.  They wanted him to be good with kids.  They wanted him to be Christian.  They wanted him.  They only ever said ‘him’.  And no one noticed how silent I was.

My parents didn’t make church a regular thing when I was a child.  I was baptized as a baby of course, and we attended Christmas and Easter services, but that was it.  It was my grandmother who regularly went to church, and she took us with her when we visited.  The church was nice, and as a child I loved dressing up.  Little did I know that the church she went to was in a battle.  The pastor welcomed the homeless, the addicts, and those who loved differently but the board didn’t agree.  I didn’t realize this until I was much older.

I was 10 when I learned that heterosexual relationships weren’t the only kind of relationships out there.  My introduction to this was less than friendly.  I made friends with a girl one grade above me.  She happened to not be very liked among others, and they used anything they could against her.  One day, we were swinging and trying to hold a conversation, but it was impossible with the wind.  So, we grabbed each other’s hand to sync up.  When we finally got off the swing, we were relentlessly chased around the playground by a group of girls who were calling us lesbians.  I didn’t know what that meant, so I asked my mom.

            My mom handled the situation well.  She told me what it meant and that it was okay to be like.  Little did I know that my questions made her realize something about me that I did not yet know. She also told me to tell my teacher if they continued to pick on me.  My teacher had the opposite reaction. 

            My fourth-grade teacher was catholic, and she let everyone know it.  She talked about her religion a lot and if I didn’t know what she meant; she would treat me as if I was stupid.  Somehow, I still enjoyed her class.  I was teased and chased again, along with the other girl, but when I went to tell my teacher, her face got red, and she leaned extremely close to face.

            “You would think you’d have the sense not to say something like that!” she hissed.  I didn’t know what to do.  My mother had said it wasn’t a bad thing, but why did my teacher just act as if I’d cursed in the middle of class?

            The experience remained forgotten until I was around 12 years old.  My parents insisted on moving across the country and for us to switch and be homeschooled.  When I learned LGBTQ, marriage was legalized I finally began to understand…and to question.

            The first person I talked to was my grandmother, who I was living with at the time.  At the time I thought I liked boys and girls, but I hadn’t heard the term bisexual, so I thought I might be a freak.  She told me that everyone had these thoughts at my age, and that many people try to decide on their sexuality to early.  Before sending me back to bed, she told me she loved me and assured me that, gay or not, I was perfectly okay and healthy.  She was brought up with the bible, so this was a good reaction from her. 

            Between the ages of thirteen and fourteen I stared to realized that not everyone was friendly to my kind.  Many people pointed to the bible to say it was wrong but couldn’t give more than one outdated verse.  Because my online school was a Christian academy, I got Christian adds.  Eventually I researched them and grew into a depression.  I tried to take my life once, but I threw the pills up later, and never told anyone. 

            I finally made some online friends who taught me that I was a good person and gave me the courage to formally come out to my mom.  She and my dad cut off my contact with these friends. 

            From that point, my sexuality wasn’t an easy topic with my parents.  They believed I was too young to know and when I brought it up, they accused me of focusing on it too much, instead of other things.  This didn’t make sense to me.

            My mother also joined a church around this time.  They had a youth group, which I joined…right in the middle of a talk about relationships.

            Every conversation that week made me uncomfortable.  I did try to talk about it with one of the assistant pastors.  Her belief was that being gay, or bi, or lesbian wasn’t a sin, but acting on it was. But how can you just not love?

            As the youth group changed, I’ve noticed that people are different.  The views seemed to have gotten more old fashioned the more the rainbow spreads.  I will never come out at this church, but I do not make quiet the fact that I am an ally.  Because of this, my pastor and I sometimes but heads.  What’s even harder, is to watch people that I considered friends make jokes that are anti-gay, and it does make me feel bad.

            I believe in God, and I believe that God doesn’t make mistakes.  My church will never support me and if I am there, I will feel like an outsider for the way I am.  As much as I wish it was different, I can’t change people.  I’m young now, and the path that will join my religion and my sexuality is very murky.  I thought going to church would help, but it has made it worse.  I have a long way to go, and so do many others.  Yet, I can rely on each prayer to bring me closer.