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…