Internalized Homophobia and Name Calling

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As I have come to terms with my own sexuality I have come to realize all the many ways I have internalized homophobia. The adults in my life, namely my parents, spoke very negatively about homosexuality. They spoke of gays and lesbians in the same with the same tone reserved for perverts and rapists. The biggest authority in my life, the church, viewed homosexuality as something to hate and hide.

When I was a kid my best friend was a boy. We played all the time. He would pretend to be Link from the video game, Zelda, and I would pretend to be a magic unicorn. It was parallel play at its finest. He did his thing, I did mine, but we were together in a world of our own.

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This friendship dissolved as we grew and the teasing began. Since I was a girl and he was boy, according to early elementary school logic we must have been in love. Boys had cooties, so did girls, and my playing with a boy went against the gender norms of the playground. The only reason a boy and girl could play together was if they were in love, and love was for grown-ups, thus should be teased mercilessly.

I can’t recall exactly why, but I remember being very mad at my friend. I think it had something to do with all the teasing. Regardless, I was angry and called him the worst thing I could think of at the time, even though I had no idea what it meant. I called him a F*gg*t.

I called him the worst thing I could think of at the time, even though I had no idea what it meant.

I had no clue why f*gg*t was bad, just that it was. My mother always said it in the same tone she used to talk about sickos who hurt children, and dangerous people. She later called Ellen DeGeneres and Rosie O’Donnell “sickos,” in this same tone.

I called my friend this horrible thing, and stormed off. In my memories he vanished after that. Really I think it was probably near the end of the school year and he just didn’t come back to the same school. It’s possible I was angry because he was moving or leaving the school and we would never see each other.

I can’t remember the exact details of that moment, just the horrible sense of regret when that word left my mouth.

I can’t remember all details of that moment, just the horrible sense of regret when that word left my mouth. To this day I wish I could apologize to this friend. I now know what that word means and how it harms those in the LGBTQ community. That word and others hurt me and kept me from facing my own truth.

As I have come to terms with my own sexuality I have come to realize all the many ways I have internalized homophobia. The adults in my life, namely my parents and those they listened to (Rush Limbaugh for one) spoke very negatively about homosexuality. They spoke of gays and lesbians like they were perverts and rapists. The biggest authority in my life, the church, viewed homosexuality as something to hate and hide.

I’m an artist, I told myself, I just want to see how to draw boobs better, nevermind the fact I own a pair myself.

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I remember scouring through gaming magazines and staring at the women. I’m an artist, I told myself, I just want to see how to draw boobs better, nevermind the fact I own a pair myself. In college I watched the movie, “But I’m a Cheerleader,” and felt personally offended. I felt everyone in the movie was pushing their ideas onto the main character. Everyone else had decided she was gay, it didn’t come from her sense of self. Of course she would be grossed out by her boyfriend French kissing her, French kissing is gross!

I identified with the main character so much I was offended on her behalf. When in truth, I was dealing with my internalized homophobia and was just like her. I was ignoring the rainbow flags in my own life that would point the way to my same-sex attraction.

I was ignoring the rainbow flags in my own life that would point the way to my same-sex attraction.

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My childhood was very sexualized. That’s the flip-side of purity culture, it creates this sexual curiosity and frustration. It centers adolescence around sex. I cannot tell you how often the church talked about sex . It was the THE thing that always came up. It also strips children of their sexual autonomy. Your body is not your own, it belongs to God, which means it belongs to the Church, or your parents.

I was taught my body belongs to something bigger. That belief kept me in a miserable marriage for so long. I continued having sex because a wife’s duty is to please her husband. A wife must make her husband happy, and sex was the way to make him happy. It was my godly duty to have children, even if I wasn’t ready for them. Then it was my duty to put those children before myself.

All of that to say, if my body was not mine, how could I really be in tuned with what I wanted?

All of that to say, if my body was not mine, how could I really be in tuned with what I wanted? When asked in bed what I wanted to do sexually, I never had a clue. Slowly I started to realize what I wanted, and it did not involve a man. Slowly I started to accept myself and unlearn my internalized homophobia. SLOWLY, like not until my mid-thirties slow.

To this day I deeply regret calling my childhood friend a F*gg*t. Even though I didn’t know the definition of that word, I knew the connotation. I said it to hurt and wound my friend. I wish I could tell him sorry. We were only seven or eight years old, but I have thought about that moment often over the last thirty-odd years. I don’t know if he understood what I said, or what it meant, I surely didn’t, but still, I wish I could apologize.

I also deeply regret using that word with the intent to harm.

Many labels and words are used to demean LGTBQ people. I am thankful that many in the LGBTQ community have reclaimed these labels. They have turned them around to bring power.

As I overcome my internalized homophobia, I have grown to like the word Queer. I like the way it sounds, the way it feels on my tongue. I like the way it means odd and different, for I have felt those words my whole life. I like it better than Lesbian or Bi or even Pan. I have tried these labels on like ill-fitting clothes. I’ve said them out-loud to myself. I also like the word Gay, even though it’s meant to label men who love men. I like the way Gay also means happy. Gay is the word I used when I fully came out to myself, my husband, and my therapist.

I have settled on calling myself Queer for now. I sometimes call myself a Lesbian. It’s a new word for me, a word that feels strange and foreign, but also like something I should reach out to and try on.

Funny how such a small word can make such a huge difference

Funny how such a small word can make such a huge difference. How it can uproot an entire family. Shake up the norm and redefine relationships. I am hopeful it will also bring joy and happiness.

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I have learned and grown since my childhood. In overcoming internalized homophobia, I have come to find words can hurt and they can heal. I am choosing to use words to heal. I am choosing to redefine my language and my labels. I am learning to accept other people’s definitions, labels, and even pronouns.

We only have one life. We get to choose how we live it. Do we live it with love and light or hide in shame and fear? I choose love and light.

Since I cannot find my old friend and say sorry to him, I will say sorry to you. If you have ever had labels and words used against you, I’m sorry. If you’ve been wounded by the societal norm, I’m sorry. There are those, like myself, who are redefining language and labels. Those who are choosing words to heal instead of harm.

I hope you find healing.

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How I Lost Faith in Christianity

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I lost faith in Christianity because of a one word question:

How?

As a child magic and miracles seemed interchangeable. At one point I believed I could control the wind or change traffic lights with my mind. Jesus and Santa Clause were both eternal beings who granted your requests, one through a letter, the other through a prayer. Miracles were real, but magic and fairies were not.

Over time I watched people I love struggle with health issues, either from birth, or through no fault of their own. I watched as seemingly innocent people suffered great loss from natural events, or wars, or mass murders. I struggled to understand How a God of Love could allow the world to suffer, allow the humans he supposedly valued more than His own Son, to suffer. How could love let pain endure?

The answers were vast and thin.

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God’s ways are not man’s ways.

We cannot understand the mind of Christ.

He works in mysterious ways.

These answers did not satisfy my endless question of How? If God is Love, how does suffering continue? I swallowed down my doubts and tried to believe in the bigger picture. I observed the world and searched for clues as to how pain and suffering led to a greater good. Yet, I failed.

The world’s suffering grew too big for my understanding of God.

There was the bigger How… How do I live the life God wants? God was a jealous, angry God waiting around to strike me dead for even thinking sinfully. If, my own private thoughts were not safe, how then, did I find purity? How could I escape the damnation of my soul lamenting in an endless lake of fire?

The pastors and preachers demanded that all sinners must be saved. The phrase, “go and sin no more,” was a constant plea. There was no guide as to HOW to accomplish this fete.

There were endless tales of mortals who met their doom right after refusing to ask Jesus in their hearts. Modest, moral folks were decapitated right outside the church parking-lot, after refusing to ask Jesus into their hearts.

A simple prayer was all it took to be saved.

Repeating the Sinner’s Prayer was the magic ticket to heaven. Mass murders could get out of Hell Free by praying. Death is all around in the church. Statues of the dying Jesus are often on display as a reminder of our mortality.

This constant fear left me ill-at-ease within the church. The Bible itself says that “perfect Love casts out all fear” (1 John 4:18). The idea that I should follow God, or Jesus out of fear has never sat right with me.

Another thing that doesn’t sit right with me are the many contradictions in the Bible. The simple fact that historical evidence and Biblical context do not always meet up.

There were many inconsistencies with the theology of the church, the mixed messages of the Bible, and the hypocrisy of those who practiced the religion. Ultimately, I lost faith in Christianity because of the hypocrisy and hate I saw in a faith was was supposedly founded in love.

Spiritual Bullies were the leaders in the church.

Pastors, teachers, even youth ministers knew how to use the scripture to move the hearts of their audience to react. Searching the crowd for that ultimate reaction, the Prayer of Salvation.

I, myself practiced manipulation by using scripture and fear of eternal flames to “Save” souls. I truly believed I was doing the “good work” by using specific Bible verses to force conviction. Once, I tried to convince someone to stop lying all the time by reading as many verses about the evils of lying as I could find. Afterwards, a much more spiritual person than I pointed out what I was doing was manipulative.

My first Confession of a Spiritual Bully is to Jesus.

Jesus commanded to “Love your neighbor as yourself,” (Matthew 22:39), that “true religion is caring for the orphan and the widow,” (James 1:27), and “whatever you do to the least of these, you do unto me,” (Matthew 25:40-45). The same man who commanded that you “judge not lest you be judged,” and “tend to the mote in your own eye before worrying over the speck in your brothers.” (paraphrase of Matthew 7: 1-4)

I want to say, I’m sorry Jesus. I did not follow your principles or your values. Walking away from religion and reading your words under a fresh light has brought me closer to your teachings. I no longer call myself by your name, but I still value your messages.

Not all churches are as manipulative as the ones I grew up in. Not all Christians are hypocrites.

Yet, I have lost faith in Christianity. Instead of believing in some God above, I now search the soul within. I look to the spirit already inside of me, who weeps and mourns for those who struggle. Who wants to give to the agencies that will help in crisis. The one who can rise up from the ashes of the world and do something, however small, to help the present world crisis.

Now when I see a problem and think How, I work to find some action to take. I am finding my how, and I don’t need religion to help me.

The answers are already in my heart.

Welcome

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Welcome to Losing Faith, Finding Spirit.

This site is dedicated to those who are searching for a spiritual meaning to life. To those who may have grown up in restrictive religions and wish to find their own method of spiritual growth. To anyone who wishes to learn how to move past trauma and into a state of self-awareness and growth.

I am no expert.

I am merely another being on this cosmic journey who would like to share my experiences in hopes that others may also find growth, healing, and inner peace. I believe these are life-long efforts and am simply moving towards my own goals.

I am still learning, still growing, still healing.

This is a record of my journey from losing faith in the Evangelical Christian Church in the southern United States, to finding spiritual awareness within myself. I plan to expose and blog about the experiences I had growing up in the Evangelical Christian Church under Confessions of a Spiritual Bully posts.

I will also post the methods that have worked, or haven’t worked in helping me find inner peace and healing from the past under the Mindful Healing Tips posts.

Find all posts here:

This site is not affiliated with any religion. Please feel free to adopt any techniques, practices, or advice into your own world-view and spiritual practices.

May you grow in inner strength and tranquility.
Blessings Be.