It was right after I came out to my parents. I have to say my parents because other than my sister my parents were deathly afraid of anyone finding out the shameful secret. I did share this information to the very few I could express myself freely with. Luckily I had select friends whose parents and them kept me loved and supported through these times. Its not that I could not process what they were doing as kind and/or necessary but the desire for me to have that from my own parents trumped any appreciation I could revel in.
This was the worst time for me and God, who in the Fuck was this God?! Terrible one! Killer of first borns! Plague bringer! Was it him who printed out my AOL conversation? The same God who when I lost my retainer for 3 days checking every pocket and drawer searching for in despair because my parents threatened for every day I could not produce the retainer I would be punished, only to find it in the pocket of the pants I had checked several times before? The God who made me this way?
This was the renewal of deep seeded depression and old insecurities that already infected me. It was some time later my mother told me she would find me as a young child in my room by myself or when I was alone and thought no one looking, crying and staring off into the distance. She would ask me what was wrong and I would respond with, "You don't understand. There is nothing you can do." When she would press me I would withdraw further into myself for days on end. I had to be reminded of this as somewhere and somehow I blocked this all out of my mind. I can only imagine that I knew I was different and I also knew it could not come to light without me feeling the scathing consequences. Seems I was right.
This led me to late night conversations with God. I hated him for all I was and all he allowed me to go through, and yet I had no choice but to turn to him in my times of need as was inculcated for me to do. I now can imagine the odd and damaging dynamic where the abused have to rely on their abuser for something due to circumstance and life positioning. In the contemplation of this relationship between me and God it was apparent that I was in an abusive relationship. He was emotionally unavailable and never answered when I requested of him his Divine aid. Surely he read my heart and new my desire. Countless nights haunted with insomnia, my ears wet from tears who ran their course as I laid looking at my ceiling. My eyes puffy and red spent from crying, my nose raw from blowing, my throat dry from incessant pleading for God to make me straight. To make me normal. What response did I get? Nothing. Silence, bleak and daunting met me these evening reminding me of my loneliness.
One night in one of my most earnest tear shed request from God, the Silence thundered and resounded. Stillness was present, this state of in between in which all things stopped. Time was not a factor. MY past and future did not exist I was left with me and only me in the present moment. In this moment I heard a voice, it was feminine. Deep with wisdom and yet light enough to ease my fears enough for me to listen. The voice spoke into my mind, rivaling the silence just moments before.
"God cannot and will not answer you. You ask what God cannot nor would not give. You ask him to make you normal and you make you different than how you are. God already declared all that was made, 'Good'. He has no answer for you and yet that is the answer. Gods silence is your answer."
This thought rocked me to my very core. I had been imploring God for something I could never have. I was left feeling like the kid who kept asking the parent for something that the Parent made it apparently clear the child could not have nor would they provide. Yet I expected a different answer, some how I wanted mountains to move, thunder in the clouds with loud voices and doves, I wanted cherubims with flaming wings and swords to reveal a different truth. That something was wrong with how I was and needed to be made differently. I believed this lie, all this time I had hung on the word of what others told me or showed me I was. I believed I was shameful, disgusting, unworthy of anything worthwhile.
God did not have a hand in my anything, or did he... Was the printing of my online conversations a push in the direction of me coming out? Something I would have avoided and continuously endeavored to live a double life in fear of being found out?
Was this the voice of God I heard moments before, this beautiful female voice? Was God a She?
It would not be until years later I understood the importance of Stillness and listening when in that space. What I did learn from that day forward was that shame was not something I was willing to carry. Not over my orientation which I could not change if I wanted to. Which I couldn't choose if I had tried. I was to start living in the notion and wonder of being me. Not that I knew who I was but By Golly I was going to find out without fear of anyone trying to dictate how I should feel or be in this life.
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