Stories Pertaining to Gay Lifestyles
Gay Pride March
I had made a friend in the chatroom, Physicians Online, one night when I had come in complaining about men. I declared that I had had enough. “That’s it,” I bellowed in capital letters. “I am going to become a lesbian now!”
“Yeah! That’s the way to go. Climb that fence,” Robin, my new friend exclaimed while she tried to hoist my big butt over the proverbial fence of sexual choices.
We later had a date to an R&B club in Hackensack, New Jersey. My husband and I were planning a trip there and Robin and I were supposed to meet. Alas, those plans fell through when Robin crashed her Harley and ended up in the hospital at the time of our visit to New Jersey.
The crashing of her Harley also forced Robin to cancel her plans to attend the Gay Pride March that was happening in Myrtle Beach two months later. She called me on the phone and made me promise to attend in her honor.
Sadly, I had to work that whole weekend and never made it. Robin emailed me the following Monday and asked me how it went. I responded back with a little made up story that explained to her my attendance.
“Outside of the fact I had to work graveyard shift all weekend and every time I woke up, I discovered I had a houseful of kids and a nagging husband to take care of, all whining something about wanting dinner before I went back to work – it went well.
My husband and I did manage a brief visit, though, on your behalf, of course. As we stood amongst the crowd of gay men and lesbian women and marveled at how some men looked female while many women looked male, I got caught pointing out one big bull dyke to my husband. You know what they say about pointing and how impolite it is. To my amazement, I discovered it’s also dangerous.
This big woman, whom we shall call Kelly, stormed over to me and demanded to know why I was pointing in her direction. She had to be at least a half a foot taller than me as well as outweighing me by about 100 pounds. Stuttering in reply, I finally answered, ‘I was pointing out how pretty your bike is.’
‘I don’t have a bike,’ she declared. ‘You were looking at my woman! I know it!’ Shaking my head in total fear, I animatedly denied checking out her woman. Still not convinced, Kelly warned, ‘You have your own bitch to gawk at. Keep your eyes on her instead of mine!’
Looking to see who ‘my own bitch’ was, I realized she was talking about my husband. I tried to explain, ‘She’s a he; he’s male.’
‘I don’t care what she tells you she is; keep your eyes off my property,’ Kelly again warned as she began walking away.
I stammered out, ‘But … but, he’s male. Can’t you see he has a mustache?’
‘Are you calling me blind?’ Kelly demanded turning back to me. ‘Do I look stupid?’ Fearing it was a trick question, I refrained from answering. Kelly went on, ‘I don’t care! She’s still ugly!’
Well! I was feeling mighty put out that she was insulting my bitch when all he was doing was just standing there with a mustache. It didn’t warrant all the rudeness so, I puffed out my chest and told her, ‘And your ass is huge!’
The last thing I remember was waking up in the hospital as the patient and not the nurse. Kelly had beaten the living shit out of me. By the way, I just got home from the hospital this morning and Kelly and I have a date next Friday night.”
Robin called me laughing hysterically. “You are so funny!” After sobering from her laugh she acknowledged that she considered I would have probably been working and unable to attend. She agreed it was the thought that counted. Keeping
with the joke though, Robin asked, “But how did you know her name was Kelly?”
“Oh,” I exclaimed, “After whipping my ass, she sent flowers to the hospital and even came to see me.”
“Oh my God, girl; you are a riot,” Robin declared. “You should be a writer.”
I’ve been seeing a lot of controversy regarding the Christian baker who refused to sell a gay couple a wedding cake. I’ve kept my opinions to myself about it until now.
First, and foremost, I think it’s hilarious. So what if the man doesn’t want to sell the gay couple a cake. There are other bakers, go there instead. He reserves the right to serve whomever he chooses whether anyone likes it or not. But, to compare him to a Christian firearms dealer is ludicrous and one situation has nothing to do with the other.
The sale of firearms does not compromise one’s religious beliefs. There’s nothing wrong with condoning the use of a gun as it doesn’t affect a relationship with God. God did not say we are not allowed to hunt, after all, guess how Moses got lamb meat for sacrifices – oops! He killed them and in a more gruesome way than with a bullet.
The reasons are unknown to most gun dealers as to why a person is seeking to purchase a rifle, automatic, handgun or whatever. It’s not as if anyone puts on their application, “Need gun to kill mother-in-law.”
On the other hand, selling a cake to a gay couple does not affect a relationship with God, either. It’s a sale, that’s it. Do you think child molesters and rapists come into a bakery and say, “Hello, I need a cake to celebrate the raping of my wife’s 12 year-old sister?”
You don’t know what goes on behind closed doors and when you do, you should mind your own business. For all you know, the wedding cake the gay couple was just denied may have been sold to a mass murderer five minutes later. I’m sure the baker does not condone that activity, either.
The bottom line is, God says to love all and do not judge. Anyway, that’s my opinion. I’ll step down from my soapbox now.
My daughter recently started a thread on her Facebook about gay marriages. It is of Amber’s opinion that what goes on behind closed doors is no one’s business but their own. That’s my fault because that’s what I taught her as her mother. I made a few hit and miss comments, mostly in jest but for the most part, I’ve enjoyed watching her friends banter back and forth over the subject of being a homosexual and how it pertains to the government, legalities, social and religious acceptance and so on.
Ellie put a religious and political spin on the subject. Penny, too, voiced her opinion. I really expected Nick to jump on the bandwagon when Ellie brought up religion and politics as he’s usually up for a good debate. Nick stayed out of it this time. My favorite postings were that of Lamar and Jon. All of them had very valid points even if the original topic (what business is it of yours what someone’s sexual orientation is?) was brought around to something else. Autumn, another of Amber’s friends, is openly lesbian and married to another woman. She had a lot to say. Whew! For what it’s worth, Autumn had very valid and excellent points to her rants as well.
I remember a time when being gay was whispered about. I’ve whispered it (as if I really know how to whisper). I have stood alongside my nephew, who is openly gay, and pointed out different men and said, “They’re gay!”
“No, Aunt Michelle, they are not. They are straight,” he’d rebuttal.
Not to be overruled I‘d say, “They are too gay! What do you know about being gay?”
I think it’s hysterical when people put the religious spin on being a homosexual. Here are some typical comments you’ve
probably heard or even said yourself from both sides:
“Being gay is an unforgivable sin.”
Uhm, no, it is not. Nowhere in the Bible does it ever say that. You can be forgiven once the practice has stopped. I do wish people would read the Scriptures before they try to quote them.
“We live in the days of the New Testament and it is not mentioned there, so it’s no longer an abomination.”
Actually, it is mentioned directly and indirectly in the book of Romans. Christ tells the disciples, “The Father loves us all, no matter our sin, we only need to accept him (Christ) as His son, the Son of Man.” as well as other Scriptures pertaining to homosexual activity.
“It says clearly in the Bible it is a sin and man should not lay with man as he would with a woman!”
Yes, it sure does say that. However, it also says lying is a sin and we’ve all been guilty of that. As a matter of fact, lying is such a significant sin that it was written by God’s own finger on a stone tablet called, The Ten Commandments. There are nine others if you want to look them up and see where you fall short.
“It is sodomy and that’s why God destroyed Sodom
says the man who indulges in anal sex with his wife (she told me). What? Did you think just because it’s done with a woman it makes it okay?
And, if you follow the Scripture’s story, after Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed by “fire and brimstone,” Lot’s wife was turned into a pillar of salt when the angels had warned them not to look back. Lot, so depressed over the loss of his wife, drank to inebriation which is also a sin! The Bible does not say we cannot drink, it says we cannot be inebriated, drunk. After all, Christ did drink the fermented fruit. Without refrigeration and processing techniques, his wine was much stronger than ours is today.
Many ask, how do I explain to my child about same sex marriage? I guess the same way you explain marriage between a man and a woman: they're two people who love each other and want to spend the rest of their lives together. It may work, it may not.
“Isn’t it a sin against the Bible, Mommy?” Asks Little Johnny.
“Yes, Sweetheart, it sure is. So is stealing Timmy’s GI Joe Action Figure because you’re jealous of him having it instead of you. And, do you remember when your brother shot all those people at his school and killed them? That was a sin too. But thank God neither of you are gay!”
For the record, I don’t judge anyone who is gay. That is not my place. What you do behind closed doors is strictly your business and frankly, the government should not be in your bedroom either. If you want to get married, do it. I’m happy for you. I will rejoice and bask in your glow of happiness. I will support you as a fellow human being who has feelings, emotions and a heart. And, when asked on Judgment Day, why I did that, well, I won’t really have to answer, will I? God knows my heart and he’ll know I did so because I loved you with all of mine.
“Tis not for us to judge
Nor giggle and nudge.
It is for us to love
And let the man above,
Be the one to judge.”
- Michelle Cox
I frequently marched to the beat of my own drummer, as they say, and still do. While living in a children's home, I would occasionally take a weekend and run off, always returning on Sunday evenings. Since it was only 10 cents to ride the city bus, 15 if you needed a transfer, I kept a dime and a nickel on me. The afternoon I left, I took the bus to my brother's house. It wouldn’t have been difficult to find me but lucky for me, truant officers were so stretched that by the time they got around to looking for me, I was usually already back at the children’s home.
Upon my return to the orphanage, I was bombarded by the other girls. We were not allowed to be in each other’s rooms without the houseparent’s permission (as if any of us actually followed that rule) so I was surprised to see some of the girls slipping into another’s dorm room. I don’t know how to explain it other than to say the atmosphere was electrifying with all of the girl’s buzzing about.
Dawn, one of my dorm room neighbors came rushing up to me and started pulling me toward the TV room at the end of the long hallway. There were 18 rooms on either side of the hall that held two sets of bunk beds for abandoned children and delinquents. Since I had just returned from my “illegal outing,” I would be assigned a new room and roommates.
Dawn and I veered off to the activity room, just left of the TV room, where several of the other girls were waiting. Our bathroom/showers were across the hall from the activity room. A couple of the girls came out and rushed into the activity room. To say it was crowded would be an understatement.
Freddie and her older sister, Willie (one of my buddies), came from the TV room. Freddie was always in the TV room sitting on the sofa rocking back and forth. It was her security. Willie, on the other hand, chose to withdraw inside herself.
“It’s about time you got back,” Willie said of my AWOL. “I didn’t know if you were coming back.”
“What’s happening?” I asked, completely and utterly bewildered. I knew this reception was not a welcome back party for me. Something had definitely happened. Remembering how we all hated one of the housemothers, Jolene, I excitedly asked, “Did Jolene get fired?”
Dawn answered while Willie snickered behind her hand, “No! Tammy is back! She came in this afternoon.”
I had been there for two months and never even heard her name mentioned much less, knew who she was. “Who is Tammy?”
“She comes and goes,” Dawn answered.
“What’s wrong with her?”
Roxanne, my old roommate (as it were when I returned) came up and whispered in my ear, “Tammy is a lesbian!”
“Okay,” I whispered back, “But, what is wrong with her?”
Exasperated, Dawn waving her hands up and down for effect, squealed, “She’s a lesbian. You know, dyke! She likes touching girls in their special places!”
Gosh, was I a dumb kid? I understood Tammy was a lesbian. I got that. What I didn’t get was what was wrong with her? I rolled my eyes, acknowledged she was a lesbian and then left to go find my new room.
Roxanne, whose mother left her on the doorsteps of one of her regular johns, came to me later in the activity room. I was sitting in there with Lisa, who, for whatever reason, never talked about why she was there. We were talking and smoking when Roxanne came and sat next to me.
“I was really scared,” my ex-roommate said to me.
“They put Tammy in with us. I thought you knew. They moved her out though and put her in another room. We did some switching around while you were gone.”
That explained everyone going in and out of each other’s rooms while the housemother was present and accounted for. “Why were you scared?”
“I don’t want her to touch me,” Roxanne said defensively. “She’s a lesbian!”
Lisa spoke up, “I told Martha (the housemother) she could move Tammy in my room since I had empty beds. I really think she wanted to put her in your bed, Michelle, you know, just to piss you off for running away. But, Roxanne started crying so she okayed her moving into my room.”
Personally, I had always secretly thought Lisa was a lesbian. I never said anything and to this very day, as I’m writing this, I still think that. However, I was of the opinion, if she wanted me to know, she would have told me and so, I never bothered asking for confirmation.
A few days after my return, I was walking toward the bathroom when the door flew open and about three girl’s came running out with towels wrapped around them. Seeing I was heading in there, they stopped and warned, “Don’t go in there!”
“Why; is there a rat or something?” I asked heeding their warning.
“No, Tammy is in there!”
“But she’s a lesbian,” they all squealed, and priggishly so, I might add.
“You like boys; does that mean you try to kiss every boy you see? She likes girls; that does not mean she tries to kiss every girl she sees!”
I had had enough! For three days all I heard about was “Tammy this and Tammy that” until I was just sick of it. As I said, I marched to the beat of my own drummer and I marched right into that bathroom to take my shower.
We had to leave our clothes in our rooms and wear either a towel or bathrobe to and from the bathroom whenever we bathed or showered. I found Tammy sitting in a shower stall on the floor, still wrapped in a towel. The water from the shower rained down on her as she sat there crying.
I went over, turned the shower off and then sat down next to her. I wasn’t going to tell her what the girl’s had been saying, just in case she didn’t know. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings any more than they apparently already were.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Haven’t you heard,” she answered through her sobs, “I’m a lesbian. Since I’m a lesbian, everyone is afraid of me and treats me like I'm a leper.”
“Are you really a lesbian?” Tammy nodded her head in confirmation. “So what,” I declared. “Just as long as you understand, I’m not, we can be friends.”
“Really? You're not afraid? They might hate you too,” she said sobering up a bit.
I put my arm around her and gave her a big hug, “I don’t care if you’re a lesbian or not. Don’t mind those girls. They’ll come around once they see you’re not trying to kiss them.”
They did too. Tammy and I talked frequently in the activity room. She, Willie and I rode the school bus together, we did our homework together and Tammy and Lisa bonded as well (I bet). In turn, the other girls seeing how we all were, they too, came around and accepted her. Even Roxanne stopped avoiding Tammy.
Freddie, Willie’s younger sister, insisted it was an abomination unto God however; it was Tammy’s own problem come judgment day. That was pretty much the attitude I took as well. It’s not for us to judge someone because of his or her sexual orientation. It is for us to love and accept people though and leave the judgments for Christ.
I love all of my nieces and nephews. Lord knows I have many to love, but, in Terry, I am, without a doubt, the most proud. He is 53 years old and he is getting married for the first time. I never thought I’d see the day when this would happen. And yes, it’s because he’s gay. He called me one day and made his announcement, “Jim and I are getting married!” He‘s marrying a younger man. Jim is 52.
“You are,” I exclaimed in excitement. “Who is going to be the wife?”
“Wife? There is no wife,” he laughed. “He’s my husband and I’m his husband. There will be no wife at my marriage.”
“Well, who is going to wear the wedding dress then?”
“No wedding dress. This is not a wedding, it’s a marriage.”
Well phooey! If anyone would wear a wedding gown, it most likely would be Terry. He’s a professional dancer and has great legs. Not to mention he used to be a female impersonator. Terry used to do a great Liza Minnelli and for years he worked aboard a luxurious cruise liner doing shows for them.
Jim has told me of his first encounter with Terry, “He was dressed as Jessica and had this red wig on. He looked like hell and I thought then how I didn’t ever want to have anything to do with him.”
As a homosexual, Jim began that chapter in his life following a marriage, three children and a divorce. It was pretty much that simple. He’s a strong willed man, a man who knows what he wants, what he likes and he doesn’t take flack off others. His sons accept him for who he is and they’re very supportive of their father being gay. Jim’s family respects him. You either accept him, or you don’t, and he’s fine with that.
It wasn’t that simple for Terry. When he “came out” one of my brothers called me and said, “Are you sitting down? I have something to tell you.”
“Yes, I’m sitting down. What happened?”
“Our nephew, Terry, is a homosexual.”
“Okay. What happened to him?”
“Nothing,” my brother said in exasperation. “I’m just telling you, he’s gay!”
“Oh. Well duh. I thought everyone knew?”
That was the big family news; Terry came out of the closet. Many of our family members are judgmental in their Christianity (what an oxymoron, right?) and when Terry came out; he was severely judged by his own family. I understood that, first and foremost, he had to come out of the closet and it would be, by far, one of the most important steps he would have to take. When Terry did tell everyone he was gay, it ignited his long journey into to self-discovery and that journey is what brought Terry to where he is today.
I’ve stood at the sidelines watching my precious nephew stumble down this path, going through his terrible trials and tribulations of life, all because of his sexual orientation. Most of his adult life was spent in a liquor bottle as an alcoholic while he coped with who he was.
When my daughter realized her cousin was gay, she kept nudging me and saying, “Mom…Mom.” I finally tuned to her, knowing full well why she was nudging me and asked what she wanted. “Is he gay?” She was 10 years old at the time this realization hit her.
I turned to Terry and said, “Amber wants to know if you’re gay?”
He laughed and said to my daughter, “Can’t you tell? I wear it like a crown.”
And, he did (wear it like a crown). He was still on that path of Self-Destruction; the one he had to take before he could reach the road to Self-Acceptance.
For years Terry drowned himself in a bottle of liquor until one day, he met Jim. Through this man, who had so much inner strength and peace, Terry found his own strength. He found self-respect, pride, and, at long last, acceptance. He completely turned his life around. He became the man he is today. Terry went through his own hell, mostly alone, before he finally found someone who helped him come the rest of the way.
I think one of the more difficult things in Terry’s life was his father’s denial. He just wanted his dad to love him for who he was. My brother had an extremely hard time with his son’s homosexuality. He wouldn’t even acknowledge him at first and then slowly, he turned. My brother loves his son with all of his heart. He might grumble under his breath about Terry being gay, but there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for him. They both know that.
When my nephew called to announce his marriage to his Life-Partner, I was beaming with pride. Of course, I did do my Christian duty (I was trying to get to it before the other overzealous zealots in our family did). I reminded him of the cliché, “If God intended man to marry man he would have made Adam and Steve.”
“Is that it,” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered, and then quickly added, “No. One more thing. You’re on your own, pal. When you stand before Christ and be judged, you-are-on-your-own!”
Homosexuality used to be thought of as a psychiatric disorder that was related to pedophilia. Many believed if you were “a queer,” you had to be a child molester too. I remember those days growing up. They were all grouped together as sexual deviates: pedophiles, rapists and gays. Terry grew up in those times too. No wonder he felt so much pressure. Then to have his own family judge him as a sinner, one who cannot be saved through the Devine Grace of God.
Funny thing about that though, according to God, one sin is just as bad as the other is. It’s only in the eyes of man that we give it different levels. God loves us all, sinners that we are, and He accepts us as we are. I also seem to remember reading that Christ would be the judge of us, not man and, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” quote.
For what it’s worth, I love my nephew. I adore him and I’m so very proud of him. When the time of Judgment comes and I stand before Christ, when He asks me, “Michelle, why were you so proud of Terry?”
I will answer, “Because, Lord, he came a long way to get here. He has accomplished so much in his life and came farther than most will ever go in their own. Terry beat a demon in a bottle of Vodka and lived to tell about it. He rose up through the ashes of an outcast and stared down another demon of self-loathing. Thank you for sending Jim to him and most of all, thank you for loving Terry just as much as you love the rest of us. I did not judge him, Lord. I left that job for You.”