Banter's Story - They Won’t Chain Me; Only I Can

(TW: LGBTQ+. If you’re a homophobic [noun] who’s going to judge me for being myself, don’t read further. Or go ahead. See that I am still a person despite who I love.)

When I was four years old, I asked my mother why two girls couldn’t get married. I don’t remember her answer aside from the impression that she firmly condemned the idea as a sin. I never asked again. By the time I realized that it was possible, I had learned what my Christian family thought of the LGBTQ+ community. I was eleven when I realized I liked girls. I didn’t see that it was a big deal; I knew in the back of my mind that I couldn’t tell my parents, but it was just a fact.

Enter my parents. Instead of taking the view that Jesus taught us to love everyone equally, despite who they love or identify as, my parents decided that anything relating to gay rights, trans rights, homosexuality, etc., was a sin and that all people who aren’t straight or cis go to hell. I internalized that. It began to eat at me—the fact that I was different (something I’d tried my entire life to blend in) would curse me for eternity? Despite the fact that I believed in Jesus, helped others when I could, and tried to build up my crumbling relationship with God? I held on to the hope that they were wrong. I believed they were, but I was terrified they weren’t.

I read the Bible, combing it for the words to either free my mind from fear or to condemn me. All I found were the words so many other people have misinterpreted, seemingly confirming my fears. I read other translations. Still nothing. Finally, I read one of those study Bibles where they add passages and interpretations. In bold letters, it said, without beating around the bush, "Gay People go to Hell." I think that’s when the rest of my failing relationship with God collapsed. He tells us to love everybody; why should I be an exception just because I love someone else? Why would this entire community be cursed forever for being different?

A while before this, I’d had a terrible experience with a psychologist who was supposed to be testing me for ADHD. To put it short, he did his best to break me. He almost succeeded. He said I was broken; I was so close to believing him. I did believe him. I call him Doctor Noun, by the way. Switch out the Noun for any choice word you like. My anger and pain towards him were like chains holding me down. And it didn’t hurt him. It only hurt me.

So much happened that year. My relationship with my dad went downhill, a close family friend was near death, I lost my therapist, and my anxiety reared up.

Finally, when my life seemed so dark I couldn’t tell which way to go, I Googled "how to deal with being lesbian in a Christian family" and clicked on the first suggestion—a Quora thread that answered my question. I read the sentence that felt like a mountain off my shoulders: “Being straight doesn’t get you into heaven, so why should being gay keep you out?”

Maybe it’s silly that such a small thing could drop a rope into the pit of hatred I’d let be built around myself and melt the chains I’d made around my mind, but it felt like a lifeline. It had taken five years to free myself. I still can’t come out to my parents, but I’ve come out to three other people, including my two closest friends. One of them has now come out to me as well. My relationship with Jesus is returning. I’m on meds for my anxiety, and I feel so much happier. I feel so much freer.

I’ve learned that only I build the chains in my mind, and only I can destroy them. In two years, I’ll go to college, and I won’t have to feel afraid of being kicked out.
To every person in the LGBTQ+ community: you can do it. I have faith in you. I don’t know who you are, but I support you. I’ll pray for you or just send thoughts your way if prayer isn’t your thing. It can be so hard to be grateful, but it’s worth it. I didn’t believe that until recently. Take my testimony as proof. You are valid no matter who you are. If it’s dark, you can find the window.