FOLLOWING MY PATH
Growing Up Gay in a Christian, Fundamentalist, Right - Wing, Conservative Family During The 1940's - 1960's
by
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When I was about six years old, I began to have some slightly erotic dreams. However, they were always about the same sex. I never told anyone. As I got older, the same sex issues became stronger and stronger. When I was in sixth grade, I remember sitting in the gym bleachers and hearing the boys in my class ooh and aah over the cheerleader’s legs. I felt nothing. But deep inside, I had the same feelings when the basketball players came out onto the floor. At that age, I could always pick out the best looking male student in class and always want to sit by or next to him. It was only in the seventh grade that I had my first problem. I didn’t feel comfortable taking showers in the boy’s locker room after gym class. So, I forged a note with my parent’s signature stating that I had health problems which prohibited me from taking gym class. I was so paranoid that students would discover my problem and start to tease me or, even worse yet, pick fights with me. So I made up my mind to be such a good student academically that they might leave me alone. That same note worked for me all through high school, except when my parents found out about it. Somehow, I explained it away. When I use the word “problem” it was the only word I knew. The term “gay” was way down the road. The closest that word came to my hearing was ‘pervert.’ But that had a terrible connotation to it. I wasn’t sure what it meant, anyway. I finally heard the term “queer” and kind of figured out what it meant, but was unwilling to accept it as a definition of me. One night I ejaculated quite by chance and felt very disturbed. First, I thought I had broken one of my body’s inner tubes. Then I became concerned that maybe I had used up one of my children and I recalled Ann’s attempt at explaining how babies were born, which I had rejected a few years before. If I were to have only one child, and already had used it up, I wouldn’t be able to have any more. I decided that maybe God had made a mistake. But, then, I knew that God didn’t make mistakes. I was afraid I was the only one with this problem in the world and decided to will my body to science when I died. I wrote a note to that effect signed and folded it and have no idea what became of it. I knew I couldn’t talk to my parents about this problem, nor any of my older siblings as they might make fun of me or, worse, tell my parents. I became a master of deceit and kept my feelings and desires from everybody. When I saw someone on television that attracted me (we could watch TV at my aunt’s house on some holidays), I kept it to myself. I daydreamed a lot. I wasn’t attracted to children, but to older (18-20 year old) boys/men. My self – esteem plummeted and I studied harder than ever to make A’s. My grades suffered slightly during this time of my life. I went to the library (I was an avid reader) and discovered a book on human anatomy. It was definitely an adult book, but I sneaked it out anyway. I put it on the shelf with many other books to hide it when I got home. It had nothing in it to explain my problem. And, of course, my Mom found it and questioned me as to how it got there. I lied and denied knowing anything about the book. I don’t know if the book ever made its way back to the library or not. Finally, I stood in front of a mirror and said, “You’re a queer.” Then I broke down and sobbed as I am right now writing this because of the pain it caused me back then and the memory of it is still so real today. And, it was so unnecessary. I’m finding this book harder to write than I had imagined! This book turned out to be more difficult for me to write emotionally than I had imagined. It has been in my head for years, and the words spilled from my brain like lava flowing from a volcano. I started on a Tuesday, and finished up on the following week on Wednesday, with two doctors' appointments in between! The difficult part was reliving all the hurt, pain, and struggle I felt growing up. The difficult part was remembering those who went on before me - it was like I was reliving my family's deaths. I cried several times while writing this book. I guess most people just store painful memories away and forget about them. When you write about them, it brings all the hurt back again. The difficult part was that I know, if this book is published, that I will have 'outed' myself. The difficult part is that I know that I may anger some of my friends or relatives who really don't know about my being gay. The difficult part is sharing something very personal with people who are my neighbors in the condominium where I live. The difficult part is in knowing there are a lot of people out there who will disagree with me. That's okay. They have a right to their opinion, but just don't force your values on me or my gay brothers and sisters. It was a book that I felt had to be written. I've read of too many cases of gay suicides this past year because of harassment or because of a sense of unworthiness, and I have read about all the discrimination against gay, bisexual, lesbian, and transgender individuals who are still suffering from harassment and inequality. I believe it's time for everyone, at least in America, where we hold liberty and freedom to such a high standard, to understand that people do not choose their sexual identity. I also believe it's time for straight people to be more open-minded about others' sexuality, simply because statistically, more than likely they will need to be prepared to deal with a child, grandchild, niece or nephew, aunt or uncle, mother or father, husband or wife, butcher or baker or candlestick maker who just happens to have a different sexual orientation from theirs. It is not our place to judge other people and certainly not our place to discriminate against those who are different and to make their lives more difficult than it already is. I hope I have gotten across this message through my own life experience. I appreciate the fact that so many others have stood up and shouted to the world that they are gay. We no longer have red lights in bars (Cat’s Meow) that when they came on, we knew the police were coming and would measure the distance between you and your partner dancing, and it had to be so many inches or you would go to jail! Things are changing for gay people everywhere in America and I’m glad to be part of that change. But there are still countries that put gay people to death, just like the Nazis did. It took me 68 years to ‘come out’ but I feel a sense of relief. I can now live the way I was meant to.
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About the Book
Imagine growing up in small Indiana towns in the 1940s in a very strict religious family and then realizing at the age of six that there was something sexually “wrong” with you. You had no name for it, and you didn't really understand it, but you knew it all the same. By the time you were seven and eight years old, you heard adults talk about sexual perversion and teenagers using the terms “faggot” or “queer” as if they were describing the plague. But you knew deep inside it was you they were talking about! Then skip forward a few years when you felt compelled to find someone else like you. You knew you couldn’t be the only one, and you didn’t think you could survive on erotic dreams or daydreaming. And so you began to sexually experiment with older men who called themselves queer, but you knew it didn’t describe you. Then, at age seventeen, you found yourself in your first small gay bar, where you finally discovered you weren’t the only one like you on this planet! But when your mother discovered you’d been invited to a gay party, she told you that you would burn in hell if you didn't become heterosexual. And that was just the beginning. Following My Path is the true account of the author discovering who he was and all the things that happened along the way. Some of the things are serious, and some are funny, but all are interesting and vital to understanding what many gay people have had to endure. Reading Following My Path may: * change your mind about whether being gay is a choice or not; * make you see gay people differently and with more understanding, particularly those who are older and in the closet longer; * teach you to love your children unconditionally, even if there are parts of them you can't understand or accept; * teach you not to lay guilt trips on your children; and * teach gay LGBT people not to leave God out of their lives, as we, too, are made in his image, and he wants us to lead happy and fulfilling lives. Following My Path is the author’s confirmation in his belief in God and his comfort with being an “outed,” gay Christian.
About the Author
The author of Following My Path, Bernard Martin, writes about his struggle, at the age of six, to understand that he was sexually different. Growing up gay in small towns in Indiana during the 1940s and 1950s, when the term “gay” didn't even exist, was difficult. He is a retired educator of thirty years. He received his MA degree from OSU and was a Title I Reading Coordinator for a large Ohio school system. He is a spiritualist and a restorer of historic homes (three of which are on the National Register). He is the first white, single male to adopt an African-American son in the state of Ohio, the grandfather of two adorable grandchildren (they're his; he can say that!), and a five-year cancer survivor. After twelve surgeries, this cancer has left him with half a face and one eye. He looks back at his lifelong struggle with his strict, religious mother, who assured him that he was destined to go to hell if he didn't become heterosexual. In spite of the internal emotions that this caused, he managed to live a very interesting and fulfilling life! Join him on his journey of his self-discovery and you will find that obstacles can be overcome!