I want to share vulnerably with you about a part of my story that I haven’t talked much about. For some of you, what I will share in this video and letter will be really hard to hear. Know that I have wrestled much with this and believe that now is the time to share my story with you. I am incredibly grateful for each of you taking the time to watch and read about my journey through fear and shame.
I was born into a pastor’s home in rural East Texas, where I was joined by 9 other siblings. My parents provided a loving and sheltered environment for me to flourish in, but from a young age, I let fear and shame dominate my story.
I was a sensitive child, and had a strong desire to do what was good and right. Fear of doing wrong became a theme that colored my activities and brought a seriousness to my personhood. I had a sensitive conscience, and distinctly remember the guilt and shame I felt when I would offend someone or go against what I was taught was right. I never wanted to be a bother to others. I encountered fear that I wouldn’t be good enough and that somehow, I would let God and others down.
I internalized a sense of responsibility for situations that were outside of my control. If there was a problem, I was taught to look first to see if I could have done something to cause that problem. I anticipated people’s expectations of me and sought to meet them. From a child, I appeared on stage in church with my family and carried the weight of my family’s reputation.
Then about 12 years old, a strange and confusing awakening started to happen– I was physically attracted to guys. My home-schooled, church-reared, Jesus-loving, adolescent self had no language to express what I was experiencing, but I instinctively felt shame. I didn’t dare to tell anyone, nor did it seem that those around me really wanted to know the reality that I experienced.
It wasn’t until my late teens that I began to develop language to express what I experienced. It was on a Christian ministry’s website when I saw the phrase “same-sex attraction”. As soon as I read it, I knew that’s what I experienced. But then I was only more confused because the article provided a list of reasons that might cause me to be attracted to guys. The article said that it could have been because of a lack of positive male role models; exposure to pornography; being sexually molested; or simply choosing this attraction. The only problem – none of these were true for me. An article that proposed to help me only furthered my confusion.
As my attraction to guys continued, I experienced a deep sense of condemnation that was only worsened by the harsh words, disgusted gestures, and ill-informed explanations of homosexuality that would occasionally be hurled from behind a pulpit or across a table. So, without intentionally setting out to do so, I hid from others—and even from myself. I tried every trick I knew to stop the thoughts that would come unbidden to my mind—I prayed; quoted Scripture; dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands; and looked away.
I focused on others. I attempted to relieve others pain, while only suppressing the pain in my own heart. I became legalistic and held myself to higher standards than most anyone around me. And for a while, I received the affirmation of feeling that I was pleasing both God and those around me.
But at the end of 2014, after the sudden break-up of my engagement to a woman and the death of my mother to cancer, all of my efforts to be perfect and do it all right seemed to disintegrate in front of my eyes. Depression. Sleepless nights. Tear-soaked pillows. I began to look inside my heart and as the shame, fear, and insecurity surfaced, and I found that I couldn’t fix it all, self-loathing began to mushroom within.
I had reached out to a few friends and shared a bit of what I was experiencing, but though meaning well, they really didn’t know what to do to help. By this point, I knew that I needed to see a counselor, but that brought a new level of shame. I was able to find a great Christian counselor that didn’t try to “fix me” but that rather helped me begin to open up. I started the journey of growing into a better understanding of myself and how God had created me to inhabit the world.
But my journey hit a new low in the fall of 2017, when in the midst of my self-hatred, I felt that life was no longer worth living. This scared me, because I never thought I would reach that place. But it was there that God met me with open arms and a promise—“my grace is sufficient for you” (2 Cor. 12:9).
My journey to a more whole place was gradual and slow, but reached a turning point when I went away for a personal retreat. On the bank of the Hudson River one winter afternoon, I finally let go of striving to change myself. I let go of believing the lies that fear and shame had been speaking over my life. I let go of the perfectionism that had dominated my life.
That being said, I still face fear. I still have to deal with shame. It’s not a once and done kind of transition to a new way of living. It’s a continual process. However, this journey has demonstrated to me that even in what I thought was so shameful there is actually good that is being worked.