The Bible Condemns Me, Yet I'm Fucking Queer

Religious homophobia is a tricky thing.

As a Christian, I know where conservative straight Christians are coming from. I’ve read the Bible verses. I know why they believe what they believe.

But I’m queer. I also have to deal with the fact that, even though the Bible condemns homosexuality, I’m very fucking queer. There’s nothing that’s going to change that. I cannot deny my attractions to those who don’t fall within the rigid, cis/heteronormative male binary. There is no off switch.

I cannot squeeze myself into a cis/heteronormative box, either. I cannot pretend. Being in the closet hurts too much. In denying myself, I’m saying that my true self is wrong. That’s damaging.

Homophobia tells us that we're less. That we're broken and stupid and worthless. And for those of us who are Christians, it makes us question our salvation. An eternal, peaceful afterlife is something a lot of us look forward to. But when we’re told that an innate part of us will damn us to eternal misery...that fucking hurts.

I feel lost. Hurt. Broken. Damaged. Unloved.

This has to change. Please.

Sometimes, I Regret Coming Out

Sometimes, I regret coming out.

I’m only in the beginning stages of my coming out, so I suspect that this regret will occur time and time again. Some days I may say, fuck yeah, this was a great decision! I feel so empowered! Other days? They’ll feel like this.

People have had negative reactions. I wasn’t naive enough to think this wouldn’t happen. But I’ve underestimated how badly it would hurt. I wasn’t prepared for the intense loneliness I would feel, and how bad some days would get. Just a day or two ago, I was really depressed because I was like, yo, people really hate me more than I originally thought. I felt trapped again, and honestly, who wouldn’t? I’m in that stereotypical “teenager stuck in a small town full of narrow-minded, mean people” situation. And it really fucking sucks.

It’s difficult for me because even though I turn seventeen in a couple of days, I’m still not a legal adult. I’m stuck here until I get a job and a driver’s license. But then again, not even a job is enough to secure my leaving.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not itching to leave town just because of a couple of bad reactions. But sometimes, I’m just overwhelmed with how small this place is and how easy it’ll be for word to spread around concerning my “deviant” sexuality. I mean, assuming word hasn’t spread around already. If not in the overall town, then in my homeschool community, maybe. Then even more ostracization could occur.

It’s a gut-wrenching thought.

I do honestly wonder what things would’ve been like if I hadn’t come out. Would I have continued to pass invisible through my communities? No one can find much to gossip about when it comes to a shy girl. A shy, queer girl on the other hand…

*sigh*

I don’t know how things are going to keep turning out. I’m not blasting news of my sexuality off the rooftops of churches and won’t be any time soon, so I think that as long as most “IRL people” don’t find my Twitter, I’ll be okay. And, y’know, assuming Stalker Dance Mom and her girls aren’t gossiping with the rest of the community about my sexuality.

Yeah, this should get...interesting.

Dear 13 Year Old Kelley: We Love You

Dear 13 year old Kelley,

I love you. We all love you.

I know that with where you’re at right at, this is impossible for you to comprehend. You’re scared, and I don’t blame you. You’ve been raised a certain way all of your life and to go against that is terrifying. I know that you’re trying to pray it away. I know that you’re still acting really homophobic because you’re scared that accepting yourself will mean you spend an eternity in Hell.

Sweetheart, that is so far from the truth.

You’re not an abnormality. You’re not disgusting. You don’t have to frantically pray and ask God to forgive you when you have sexual thoughts about another girl. God still loves you.

Three years from now, you’re going to be doing amazing things. You’re going to meet people just like you. You’re going to accept yourself and start a blog. You’re gonna make mistakes along the way, but it’s okay. That’s how you learn.

There are people who love you. These people are going to support you in ways you never expected. Complete strangers are going to stand by your side when your longtime friends suddenly dump you. Hey, it is going to hurt when people leave. I’m not going to pretend that it’s all glitter and rainbows. There’s some really mean people that you have in your life right now that are going to backstab you later on. You don’t know that yet. You’re still working on fitting in with them, still trying to be that good fundie Christian girl. You’re ignoring everything that’s real about you. You’re ignoring your sexuality because you believe that even a same-sex sexual fantasy is a sin.

But you know what? It’s okay. It’s okay for you to be afraid. It’s okay for you to try and fit in. Because even though it’s a huge mistake, you’ll learn a lot from it later on. Right now, I look back at you and know that you’re at the beginning of an amazing journey. It’ll be scary, but it’s worth it. I promise.

There are people here waiting for you with open arms. They affirm your identity. They love you.

Remember: You’re queer. You’re Christian. You’re amazing.

You’re worth it.

Queer in Christ

I wish I could say that I was completely comfortable in my own skin. I wish I could say that I’m not utterly and completely terrified to have my Twitter profile as “This odd combination of a writer, dancer, and a SDA homeschooled teenager who posts bits of faithfullyLGBT stuff here. Yeah, it's weird. #queerinChrist”

I trust that one day, I’ll be able to say those things.

But for now, I’m scared. Really damn scared. To be out to my mother is one thing. To be out to people in my church is another. It’s not that I’m walking up to them and saying “Yo, I’m queer.” My tweets and Twitter profile will tell them all that they need to know.

Call my new Twitter profile a rash move. Maybe it is. But there’s something frustrating and depressing about hiding. It’s not always “need-to-know” information, but when I’ve had people that I thought truly cared about our friendships suddenly cut them off because of this. And that really fucking hurts. So if there’s a chance people are going to leave me over this, I want to get it over with instead of forming deep, platonic emotional attachments to them.

Because there’s something really hurtful when a friend of 5+ years calls me “dishonest” because I never told her about this stuff in the first place.

In a way, there’s something relieving about being upfront and honest about everything. But that doesn’t negate the fact that making myself vulnerable to people’s possible harsh criticisms and questions. After what former friends have done, I won’t allow myself to hope too much for positive reactions (i.e. them not breaking off our friendships.)  

The only thing I can do is pray, rely on the support of my amazing Twitter friends, and hope that I can handle whatever happens. I can’t control people’s reactions and whether or not they’ll have a Christ-like attitude. All I can do is keep up a Christ-like attitude towards them no matter their reaction. I won’t stoop down to the level of those who choose to reject me and say ridiculous, untrue things. (“I can never hope understand why you changed or why you lived a lie to my face, but I do understand that our friendship can't go on. I don't know you, the girl I have called my very best friend for almost 7 years.” “The Kelley I know was loving, kind, honest, and loved God. But the real Kelley is bitter, angry, and hates God and everything that you once stood for.” “God is waiting for you to turn to Him. He never left you, and He never will. Never forget that.”)

No matter what, I know that God doesn’t make mistakes. They love me just the way I am. I’m queer in Christ and it’s beautiful.

Love Thy Queer Neighbor

(KJV) Mark 12:31 And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.

While browsing the internet back a couple of months ago, I ran across someone by the name of Steven Anderson, a pastor in Arizona. Someone had uploaded a video of his sermon from November 30th 2014 called “Pastor calls for killing gays to end AIDs”

Despite the scary title, I was intrigued and watched the video anyways. This is one of the things he said:

“Because if you executed the homos like God recommends, you wouldn’t have all this AIDs running rampant.”

There’s a lot of problems with this so-called sermon (especially with that quote), but the one I want to address is love. Or rather, lack thereof.

In the NT, Jesus preaches a lot of love. Lots of love. Lots of forgiveness. Way different from the OT.  He gave us an example to follow, yet how many of us actively work to emulate His example? I’m not saying we’re going to be able to maintain that example 24/7. We’re only human. But I think that for those of y’all that are in leadership positions within the Christian ministry, y’all need to work extra hard. You’re in a position where you’re (supposed to be) representing God and Their Word. You need to be thinking real hard about your sermons. What sort of message are you sending out to the world? What image of God are you giving others? (Non-believers included.)

Because I personally don’t see how demeaning people by throwing out slurs and telling them that they should be stoned in order to have an “AIDs-free Christmas” is going to bring them to God. And for those of us who are both gay and Christian or bi and Christian, how do you think we feel? Some of us are still struggling to accept our intersecting identities as gay or bisexual Christians. Your hateful (and frankly, quite frightening) rhetoric isn’t helping matters. If anything, we feel even more rejected and lost. By screaming for our deaths, you’re not bringing us any closer to God. Why? Because the only attitude you’re exhibiting is hate, and since you’re a man or woman of God, then God must also hate us. Or so we think.

I’d like to ask pastors like Steven Anderson to consider what they’re saying, and maybe, hopefully, seek out some civil discourse with those in the LGBT and LGBT Christian communities. See what our side of the story is. See that we’re not really all that scary. Some of us profess the same faith in God that you do.

And above all, follow the words of James 1:19-20: Wherefore, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath: For the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God.