I managed to make it through my last two years of Bible College without being found out, but it was scary. I knew if anyone found out, I'd be kicked out on my ear. Looking back, I realize how crazy it was to be living on a conservative Bible College campus, being gay, and hiding porn in my room.
I'll never forget one close call I had. My room was off the kitchen and if I was in there with the door open, it was like a communal area, with guys gathering in there to talk. I could be reading and guys would be in there chatting, playing with my stereo, etc. This one time, I got dog piled on my bed, and the added weight of 3 or 4 more guys caused the mattress and bed springs to fall through the frame to the floor........ and I was in instant panic mode. I had a few gay porn magazines hidden between the box springs and mattress. Everyone but me got up and a couple of the guys were going to put it back together..... and I knew if that happened, I was going to be in deep trouble. I managed to get them out of the room and said I'd do it, but wow.... I found a new hiding place in my room and never hid them there again.
I graduated and moved home with the promise of a job. I was trying to be a Christian, and part of that was because of the job I had. I managed to keep things under control for a year, but barely. They didn't need me another year, so I dropped back into the porn and sex, which wasn't happening often, as I had a hard time meeting guys.
Around this time, for the first time, I confided about my struggles to someone. There was a guy at college I had gotten along with well, and though we hadn't hung out a lot, I felt I could trust him. I wrote him a letter, really beating around the bush, wondering if there was hope for someone who had these feelings. He read between the lines and replied positively. We corresponded for several years, and he was instrumental in doing away with my idea that I was doomed because I was attracted to other guys.
Not having much luck finding work, I moved back to the state and town I had gone to college in. I found a way to meet more guys and thought nothing regular, I started getting deeper into gay sex. I still had my moments when I'd try to quit and serve God, and eventually approached my pastor and confided in him. He started meeting with me occasionally and tried to help, but knew nothing about helping a guy that had these struggles.
On a visit home one weekend, I went to visit a couple from church that were great friends with my parents. I confided in them, and they promised to pray for me. It was during this conversation that I found out my mom had talked to her a lot during my high school years, and had confided that she had wondered why my dad didn't step in and do something about the bullying...... that kind of hurt, for until then, I wasn't sure my parents were aware of it happening much.
A few years went by and in those years, I discovered adult bookstores. Oh, I'd known about their existence, but didn't know they were a major hookup place for guys seeking sex with other guys. I started meeting more and more men for sex.
Then the bottom fell out. All of my family was now living out here, and I was living in a duplex my parents owned, paying them rent. My mom would often go through my apartment to get to my sister and brother-in-law's apartment, and I can only assume she found some of my porn somehow, I never asked, but somehow they found out.
I was still meeting with my pastor occasionally, and he had asked to talk to me one evening before church. He had asked me before if I thought my parents knew, and I had said no. He asked me again this time, and replied with words that struck terror to my soul: "They know." He called them in, and it wasn't pretty. It pretty much went like this: "how could you do this to us, who have you told, and don't you ever tell anyone again". They all prayed, and we left. The next Sunday, my mom dragged me to the altar - literally. I was furious and didn't even try to pray. I endured weeks of lectures, questions about if I had had sex with guys, demands to get tested for HIV. I was miserable, furious, and hurt. They seemed more worried that people would find out and think they were bad parents, than actually caring about me. They said things like " we were praying you'd find a way to not lose you hair, then we find out you're doing that!"
I couldn't go anywhere without having to say where I was and what I did, something that never has quit, though they aren't quite as bad as they used to be. Their actions didn't help. I just got better at hiding it.
By the time I got a computer and internet in 2000, I had already been with dozens of guys. I had found more than one way to find and meet guys, but the internet made it even easier with gay chat rooms. There were weeks I was with a different guy almost every night of the week. I was still living under my sister, so that curtailed some of my meeting, I obviously couldn't have guys there unless they were away for an extended amount of time, but I still found a lot of guys to meet.
I started going through cycles. I'd get sick of it all, repent, and try to serve God, only to give up after a few months, weeks, days, sometimes even hours. It wasn't until the last few years that I realize how messed up my views of God have been, and of His love. Had that not been the case, I might have been able to avoid those cycles and have stayed true to God.
Around 2003, I got my own place. It got much easier to hook up with guys. I'd be out late meeting guys, going to gay bathhouses. I would still try to quit, and had had a new pastor (my current pastor) for a few years that tried even more than my previous pastor had tried to help me. I had gone to college with him, and it helped that I'd known him for so long. But again, he didn't know much about it.
It was around this time that I had my second "outing". Due to a friend and co-worker asking questions, I had confided in her, and she said if I ever needed someone to talk to about it, she was there. I won't go into details, but a few months later, she outted to me to everyone at work, destroyed a relationship I had, and caused me months of sleepless nights. It was difficult working with her, and all that saved me from being fired from the Christian business I worked at, was the owners were afraid I'd sue. I was trying to serve God at the time, so I managed to keep a lid on my emotions and not react too badly. My other co-workers commented that they were impressed with how I handed it, and instead of getting their condemnation, I got their admiration, but it was the toughest thing I ever went through. I lost two people from my life that were important to me, but thankfully it never got outside of where I worked.
My times when I was serving God were becoming fewer and fewer, and with longer periods of time in between. Loneliness was often one of the main triggers for my giving in, and I started praying again for something I had prayed for before, and then in 2006, I had a couple of things happen that majorly affected me.
I had tried to help a teenage boy a few years before that was gay. He was a church kid, not mine, and I tried to encourage him to try to stay away from the gay stuff. Unfortunately, his Luthern pastor encouraged him to pursue it and said it was OK. I emailed him some, trying to help, but he didn't want help. His parents found out he was gay, and accepted it.
In 2006, he crossed my path again. He was now 19, and wanted to come over and watch a movie. It didn't stop with a movie, and I was crushed afterwards. I had had sex with a young man who I had previously tried to help. Yes, he was legal, but it still shook me up and resulted in a renewed attempt to serve God.
Then Matthew** came into my life.
(not his real name)
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