Before that day, I had never seen my own blood drawn from my own hands.
I am a current student at OBU. I chose OBU because of the educationalopportunity that it could provide me. Also, despite the fact that I will never allow myself to condemn other religions, I am a faithful Christian. I love God with all of my heart and pray often in my room. Many people do no know this about me, since A. I do not attend church and B. I am a homosexual.
“I had always known that I was different” seems like a typical statement, but it really is true. I didn’t fully understand that I had feelings for others of my sex until I turned fourteen – when I developed a very deep crush on another student at my high school. I was afraid to tell anyone, as my private high school had a strict anti-homosexuality policy. I had even been brought up in both a Baptist and a Methodist situation. Although th Methodists beliefs enforce tolerance, the Baptists beliefs nearly drove me into insanity. I was terrified. I loved God and I wanted to do good – to be a good person and to go to heaven. So why was I having these feelings for my friend? They were pure feelings. It wasn’t simply about sex (although, a fourteen year-old can not exclude that characteristic of attraction). I honestly wanted to be with her as any man or woman would. I didn’t know what to do. Once I had admitted it to another friend, who I still trust deeply, the full effect of my emotions came into fruition. Terrified, that night I crept into the bathroom and took a kitchen knife to each of my wrists. I had been shaking, so my first cut was shallow. According to what my parents told me about my brother when I was little, I had grown up to believe that he was forced to leave because he was gay and that this was a sin. I couldn’t let myself live if what I was doing was wrong and couldn’t be stopped. My teachers, classmates, and family seemed to reinforce this. I was terrified of them knowing. The blood started to trickle out of my wrists as my phone rang in my room. I didn’t want to wake anyone up, so I answered it. It was Robyn, the friend I had told that morning. She talked me out of what I was doing – she told me how there were many other people like me, that what I was wasn’t wrong at all, and, finally, that God loved me as he did anyone else, because I was faithful and tried to do good. No amount of pure love could ever keep me from Him.
I can still see the mark on my wrist from that night – it reminds me of the fear I felt – the fear that I still feel today. I’ve come out to my friends – both in high school, and my closest friends here at OBU. They make me feel loved. God makes me feel loved. But I know others that are in the closet – who afraid to come out because of OBU’s policy, because of what others might do to them in they find out. I often pray that one day we will be able to be who we are and be loved for who we are – for people to understand that God loves all of his people, regardless of color, religion, or sexuality. As long as you love God, do good things, and purify your heart – God will love you.
Please, help us achieve this world. If there’s one thing I can fully believe about what is good and right, it is this: “Regardless of how anyone feels about love, hate is always wrong.”