Have you always known that you were attracted to men?
As a young child, I had many, as I would call it, confusing signals concerning how boys should behave. I used to carry around a doll until my mom deemed it was time to get rid of it and it disappeared one day. The same thing happened to a favorite teddy bear. When I played with the neighborhood girls, I was teased by the boy peers. I was teased by girls and boys for my “femmy” behavior. (I suppose it’s the kind of behavior I do now, I lapse into limp wristed, fem behavior. It’s a form of humor I’ve developed and I probably learned my humor as a mechanism to deflect the negatives. Make light of the situation, I guess. And use myself as the brunt of the joke.) So, I learned that I should behave a certain way so as to not draw attention to myself or my sexuality. Like a pinball, I bounced around my childhood until I fell into a tight box of behavior. I was scared to let anyone know my inner thoughts and feelings. And, I had no one to model or to mentor me through my sexual development. I was emotionally close to my mom and distant from my dad. Even to this day, I am critical of my dad and give much leeway to my mom. Even though, it’s my dad who supports me as a person, gay and all and it’s my mom who’d rather pray it away. Only when I finally came out and accepted my being gay in my late 30s, did I have the opportunity to look back at my whole life and see that I was gay from my early years and that culture and mores shaped my rigid self loathing as I imposed my own brand of homophobia. I had a poor self-image as an adolescent and even though I was a kindly kid, smiling through it all, laughing at much; my interior life was filled with doubt, fear, and shame. I lived in the “closet” scared of what others may find out if they knew that I liked the company of males and desired to be physical and sexual with men. I did not hate girls but liked them. (I find this kind of relationship with women true today. I relate to my sisters and behave differently around them compared to my manly life with my brothers.) I was kind to any outcasts in my class and that is how I felt about myself. I could relate. I dated a woman in my 20s as I was attracted to her person. Our sex was oral and not fucking. That relationship lasted six months with me breaking up as I told her that I was going back to the seminary. At that time, it was the early 1980’s and I was a youth minister in a catholic parish in New York. I had taken time off from the seminary because I was burned out and my sexuality was becoming too much a front burner issue. Seminary life was pretty intense as close living quarters with men challenged my closet life and I was falling for guys right and left and they me.
How did you know you were gay?
Only through the process of integration. By the time I got to my late 30s, I was a fragmented man. An ordained priest, large parish, exciting ministry and external life, but I was internally a depressed, lonely man. And, that child I loathed all those years before sat shuddering in some internal corner, scared of me and the whole world. It was not till intense psycho-analytical therapy did I see that part of me and realize that I was my worst enemy and that I had created the person I could not stand to look at in the mirror. I was the golden boy of priesthood and the poster boy of failure. Depression and alcoholism led me to my bottom. I asked for help and left for treatment, which would lead me away from ministry as a priest.
What inspired you to come out as being gay?
This is not a story of inspiration. I did not want to come out. I did not want to be found out to be gay. I perceived myself as a negative and those I perceived as “gay” were not happy and not ok and were locked in a spiral fall into the abyss. I had no light shining in on my very self. I had locked my true self in a prison and the person I had created…the golden boy of ministry…kept me locked away as I told myself terrible things to scare myself into submission. I said things like, “People will hate you if they find out you are gay”, “Your family will reject you if they out you are gay”, ….etc. I was setting myself up for failure.
Let’s go back to my college years of seminary:
I was 18 and wide eyed kid from [censored], MN. So naïve and inexperienced in the arena of interpersonal relationships. I kissed a girl in 8th grade and found it exhilarating but wanted to kiss a boy. I went on a date with a girl in my senior year of high school and when the other couple were making out, I talked to my date. When I was naked in the showers with guys on the football team, I liked what I saw but quickly showered and moved on, afraid to be found staring or with an erection. One of the neighbor boys I grew up with, I loved it when we wrestled and I could pin him down with me on top of him and his arms held to the ground, struggling to get free as I physically outmatched him. When I ran with the football, I liked to be physical and strong against tacklers and still did not mind being tackled. I wanted to elude but instead drove myself into the person and left my physicality match his and see who’d end up standing on the field.
The seminary introduced me to my first "out" men. My first roommate was a timid, meek man from Montana. In my first initial meeting, I put out my hand to say hi and he shook and shook my hand. In two years he came out of the closet and left the seminary. At the midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show, I ran into him all made up and he kissed me on the cheek and exclaimed that he had a crush on me. I smiled and probably turned red in the face and thought it both odd and wonderful that he was such a different man.
Another man would have a lasting effect/affect on me. In my first year of college/seminary, I met Jeff from Kansas. Built like me and attractive and engaging, I liked the person and was attracted to him. He liked me and wanted to be my friend. And he said so. One day, I felt the tug of the relationship and felt uncomfortable and pulled away. It was not him but my fear of intimacy and losing myself in another person and my own homophobia that drew me away. I recall talking to him in the stairwell that I was not interested in becoming his friend. He had that sad, disappointed, and shocked look in his eyes. I know that I broke his heart. I smugly turned away and went into a chapel to pray. I recall feeling free but did not know that that “freedom” was my false self telling my true self that it was better for me to stay locked away in my prison of ignorance and loathsome self-pity than to risk being open to another man and learn the things of falling in love and relationships and intimacy. During my junior year, I allowed Jeff to give me a back massage with my shirt off. And in our senior year, Jeff left the seminary and lived off campus. He and I went to see a movie and after the movie, he made a move on me and said he was attracted to me, and I said the same to him. We went to a side street and made out in his backseat. The feelings of that moment cannot be compared to any other moment I’ve had with a man. The rush of kissing, embracing and wanting to immediately fall into his arms. He said slow down as I hurriedly tore off my shirt and pulled my pants down. We rubbed and kissed and I came. And then, did he. I knew what I did was right but later regretted it and pushed it aside like it was a bad, sour piece of food. I’d do much in the dismissing category throughout my young adulthood. No other man turned me on like Jeff. We’d have a couple more sessions before I graduated from college. In the mid 1980s we re-met in NYC and I fell into his arms again. He said something like I knew you were gay. And I smiled and said nothing as I slept next to him for the night. Jeff died of AIDS three years later. I recall visiting him in the hospital room and holding him. The signs of putting on gloves and masks and garments were all over the room. It was 1985 and AIDS was killing off many of my peers. I held a man who once was my equal in physical beauty and now was marked with large purple discolorations and who cried, sobbing that his lover did not visit him. I held him close not afraid of catching AIDS as I knew this man and was letting him go. Jeff went back to Kansas to die and was buried in a family plot. He was the youngest of 13 kids and I will not forget him. He possessed one of the purest voices when singing. He smiled and played the guitar and sang like an angel. I say these things about Jeff because for years after, I was plagued by the “what ifs”. What if I became his boyfriend? Would I have died of AIDS way back then or we would both be alive. These self analysis questionings would run over and over in my head as I realized how little I would know about relationships with men and whenever I fluttered close to the flame of intimacy and commitment, I would burn out of control and fall away from any man I might be involved or be pushed away, too. One such man is a friend and active priest in a town north of where I presently live.
What inspired you to come out, continued....
10 years of active, parish ministry did not land me closer to feeling good about myself. I over worked and ran myself into illness time and time again. I’d work hard for a liturgical season and crash and get sick once it was over. I went from parish to parish to mend and fix and I was in need of mending and fixing. I cleaned up other people’s messes and I was a mess. I excelled in ministry and developed lively, active, and large communities and inside I was not satisfied. I acted out many times in my ministry years with anonymous sexual encounters. And these times of acting out only led me to horrible self conclusions. I was gay, but unhappy. And I projected that unhappiness upon all gays and kept telling myself that I’d better stay put because I don’t want to end up miserable like all those gays. I never preached against gays but always counseled tolerance and acceptance. I believed others to be born gay. All those wonderful truths I elicited, I could not allow to take root in me. Those many other men in priesthood who embraced their sexuality, as straight or gay, mostly kept lives of single/celibacy. In its purest definition, celibacy the vow to be single and it’s implied that the priest be sexually abstinent. And monastic communities have the vow of sexual abstinence and not celibacy. For a monastic community, it’s important to develop inter personal relationships in order for community to be established. The bonding of friendships is required and celibacy would hinder that development.
After weeks of deep, dark depression and drinking that led me deeper into self-exposure as a hopeless, despairing man…I called my superiors and said I needed help. The discovery of a low level depression was as key to my recovery as important as embracing myself as a gay man. For me, those men and women in religious life and diocesan priesthood, are not necessarily struggling with their sexuality but have embraced their lives and know that if they seek a longstanding relationship with their same-sex and that relationship occupies all their time, they will move on and leave their ministry and communities. I don’t know the percentage of men and women who are gay/lesbian in religious communities or diocesan priesthood. Today’s climate of mistrust over anyone who has any inkling of homosexuality, creates a serious climate of DON’T ASK, DON’T TELL in the religious circles. It’s as unhealthy as the current military policy.
And all diocesan priests, either gay or straight, are in a closet. They are stunted sexually because they do not have healthy relationships with men or women. They are more closed off because they are scared of a hint of sexual impropriety. For my friends in diocesan and religious community priesthood, they are close to leaving the ranks because the bureaucracy is no longer servant based and creative, it’s reactive and seeks utter loyalty in the ranks. No dissension. No disagreement. From the outside looking in, the priest of today suffers from the same thing I did before I departed. It suffers from a base of fear and shame. Do not look to the leadership of any mainline or organized religion for creative, thoughtful solutions to how integrate Christianity or whatever brand they’re selling into one’s whole being. It’s a time of religion vs. religion, religion vs. politics, and religion vs. God.