Last night, I wasn't quite ready to go to bed so I stayed up a bit later and watched television. Flipping through the various channels, I came across an episode of 30 days. If you're not familiar with this reality television show, you may be familiar with its creator Morgan Spurlock who also wrote, directed, and starred in Super Size Me in 2004.
Similar to his earlier documentary in which Morgan eats nothing but McDonald's for 30 days, in each episode he or another individual spends 30 days engaging in a lifestyle in which they are unfamiliar or diametrically opposed to, while debating the issues surrounding that lifestyle.
Last night's episode focused on the theme of same sex couples adopting and raising straight children; and featured Kati a Mormon and member of the Latter Day Saints, who opposed gays adopting children citing that it was against her belief system and she feels "...that two parents of the same sex are ill-equipped to give their child the life lessons that can only be provided by two different sexes." I'm not going to go into a full synopsis of the episode in this blog however if you'd like to read a synopsis click here.
The point of this entry is to share my story of abuse at the hands of my own parents, who were straight and Christian (Southern Baptist) I am a gay man who was raised by my straight grandparents after my own parents divorce. I am 35 years old and have never had a positive, stable, satisfying relationship with a man and at this point I don't think I ever will.
This is due to the fact that I was always made to feel like there was something wrong with me the entire time I was growing up. It wasn't enough that I was picked on and bullied on a daily basis at school, but abuse also occurred in my home as well. I wasn't physically abused, but I was mentally and psychologically abused in extremes. At one point, I was forcibly put in a woman's dress, makeup was applied to my face and I was locked out of the house in an effort to "make a man" out of me.
My biological mother met and married a man who didn't want me around; and my father signed away his rights rather than pay child support. I felt abandoned by the two people who were supposed to love me regardless. I had no outlet, no where to turn. I cried myself to sleep every night wishing for someone who would love me for who I was, someone who would accept me, and let me be myself.
Before I found Wicca, and an inner strength I'd never known before, I attempted to kill myself by slitting my wrists. I hesitated and ultimately didn't go through with the act, however, when my family saw the scars on my wrists rather than see this as a cry for help they saw it as just another reason to make fun at me.
Due to the abuse I was subjected to I cannot get close to anyone, I don't trust people, at least not easily, and have very few friends. If I could do it all over again with a gay parent or parents, who would be the loving guardian I never had then I'd relive my childhood in a heartbeat and maybe then I wouldn't keep trying to fill the void inside me with food and sex.
I freely admit that I am not perfect, I've come a long way and I have a long way to go. But as a wise person once said, "I ain't what I could be, I ain't what I should be, but thank God[dess] I ain't what I was!"