Prologue
My first thought when I arrived in Manhattan, New York was 'wow'. Coming from a small town in Virginia, Manhattan is humongous. At the age of twenty, my parents allowed me to move out, and by then I had saved enough money to rent an apartment (I also had a roommate) in Manhattan and I had gotten a job before I left Virginia. Everything was prearranged, and I could not wait to get out there on my own. The primary reason for me leaving home is because I told my family something that they did not like very much. They told me that God was going to hate me and that I am a sodomite and will burn in hell for my unnatural desires.
You see, I come from a religious family, and we say grace during every meal, and we pray, we go to church every Sunday, and I'm not allowed to smoke, to drink or to modify my body in any way, shape or form, because God made me who he wants me to be, my mom said. If that is so, then why is God going to hate me because I'm not … normal? What if God wants me to be this way? If I would ever ask that question in the presence of my mother, she would throw a fit. She says it is not natural; it goes against everything God stands for, etcetera. I am very sad that my family reacted this way, but I am also glad to leave Virginia for a while.
My father could not even look at me. He was just deeply disappointed that his son did not turn out like he wanted his son to turn out. He wanted me to be a 'real man'. He started teaching me things about the family life when I was a teenager. He started off with saying that I may never, ever touch a woman's body in an intimate way without being 'connected' to her, i.e. that means I would have to marry her. He has also said that the woman I would marry would have to be Christian, or converted to Christianity, otherwise my parents and her parents would not have a click, and when there is no click, no living in harmony for my parents and my future wife's parents.
He knew I was not who he wanted me to be. He knew I was not the man who he wanted me to be. He knew I was different and he never said anything. He pretended everything was well, but I heard him pray for me at night, praying to God to take the Devil out of my body. It hurt me a lot when I heard that, and I knew from that point on, that my mother and father were never going to accept who I am deep inside. They will never accept my desires, and my feelings.
I have tried to change, back in my teenage years when I already knew. I tried to hook up with girls; I tried kissing them without grimacing, I tried to hug them without feeling disgusted at the feel of those squishy breasts against me. I punished myself for thinking about men every time I was going out with a girl. I would cut myself when my parents were not there. I wanted to harm this body, cut the Devil out of me, anything to cleanse my soul from the filth that the Devil left behind. I prayed to God, I cried, I screamed. I wanted to know why God was punishing me like this. Why did he make me want to like men? What did I do to deserve this? Did I live my life wrong in His eyes?
I knew from a very early age that I was very different, and that fact only got confirmed when I was in high school. I learned to conceal my deepest, darkest desires because I wanted them gone; I did not want to be like this. I wanted to fall in love with a woman, marry her and have kids with her. I wanted the whole package, but my heart was never in it. And I knew why. God was punishing me. But I did not know, or understand, why. I went to church every Sunday. I prayed for His forgiveness. I thanked the Lord for every meal I had. I thanked the Lord for simply existing.
But it was not enough. It was never enough. Still I was plagued by these feelings, these abominable 'desires'. I could not bring pleasure to myself anymore without thinking of a man, and if I thought about women, I did not achieve an erection. I am actually not supposed to masturbate, but what my parents do not know cannot harm them.
I do not touch myself anymore. After all these years of asking questions about these feelings, my parents told me to leave. They gave me extra money and sent me off. They would pray for me, they said. They hoped my journey to New York would change me. I hope this journey will change me. I want answers. I want to know why God is cursing me with this and I hope I will find the answers on this journey.
Unfortunately I do not seem to be able to stop trying to get the Devil out of me. I feel itchy all over, as if bugs are crawling in great masses under my skin. I want them gone; I want them out. I want the Devil out of me and I am going to try my hardest to make that possible. I want God to love me again, and I want to be good in His eyes.
I have heard many stories about New York. Apparently it has a large community with people who have the same desires as me, and there are clubs and bars even. Am I curious about it? No, I cannot say that I am. I want to stay away from those tainted perverts. They all think about sex, and they probably have a lot of diseases. The thought alone makes me shiver in disgust. I am not like them. I cannot be OK with this, because it is not OK. It is wrong.
Before I left Virginia, I always felt very exposed and looked down at. I would go grocery shopping and many eyes would be on me. It was like the whole of Virginia knew. My mother said that she was ashamed; she could not walk down the street without being looked at, and she knew full well why she was being looked at. Because she had brought forth from her body, and raised, a young man who had unnatural feelings, who got shunned by God in His love. I told my mother that I would make this journey to God and walk the paths to seek His love, to ask for His forgiveness, to pray that He will take these feelings away. And so I left for Manhattan, New York.
This is my story about my journey to myself.
