From a cloud burst to Katrina

It’s no real secret that I am same-sex attracted.  I am not Catholic.  I do not owe anybody a confession.  I am guilty only before God, and He has forgiven me.  What I write about is not a confession as much as it is about where I was, about my bitterness and anger about being gay and where it led.

All gays go to hell, that much was clear.  I had prayed to God, but I was still attracted to men.  The church I was attending made it clear how they felt, so I quit attending.  Nobody came after me.  So since I was going to hell anyway, I decided to go all gay.  I lived a lifestyle that I should not have survived.

I never got into the drug or alcohol scene, but I was with many men who did.  They offered many times for me to join them, but gay sex was enough for me.  I tried cross-dressing (that didn’t go well), went to gay clubs, and had many men in my bed.  There were many one night stands and encounters with guys that I didn’t even know their last names (one I didn’t even know his first).  I saw several people die and others go to jail.

The internet was not commonly available yet, but every bathroom had my number and I met many encounters in the alley or on the side of the road, or a predetermined location.  I was pretty much a slut.  I also had a boyfriend who was just as promiscuous as I was.  But after each time I would feel guilty and wonder what the hell I was doing?  I couldn’t take the guilt anymore.  I used an answering machine and started screening my calls, quit going to gay bars, stopped making myself available to every one who wanted a piece of me.

But a few put up a bit of a fight.  One was a guy named Paul, who didn’t take too kindly to me spurning him.  He tried to rape me.  We wound up brawling naked on the floor of my apartment and I wound up knocking out his tooth.  The second guy (I don’t remember his name) I decided to handle a bit more diplomatically.  When I told him I wasn’t going to have sex with him anymore, he offered me money if I would continue.

I was shocked, to say the least.  If I had taken the money (I didn’t) I would have gone from slut to dirty whore.  I asked him to leave and I never saw him again.  This was a pivotal moment in my life, and when I looked into the mirror, I didn’t like what I saw.

I told my boyfriend that we needed to stop and we did – for a while.  He would occasionally show up out of nowhere and I would fall for him immediately.  I moved from my cruddy apartment as too many of my former relations knew where I lived.  I even changed my phone number so that I wouldn’t be called anymore.  Still, even though I was no longer living like a gay slut, I still wound up having sex with two of my roommates, two cousins and three coworkers.  In the mean time I never doubted the existence of God, but wondered why I was still gay…

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27 thoughts on “From a cloud burst to Katrina

      1. Honest sharing without finger pointing can’t become a “holier-than-thou” article. Just stay focused on your choices and write from the heart. I look forward to reading more from you. ❤

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