Ex-Gay Marks the Spot

TNG is taking a much needed break from Dec 19-Jan 4. TNG will return with new content on Jan 5. Until then, please enjoy this post from the past year. Original publish date: 8/14/08

"I just give all my problems to God," he said over his salad. He looked at peace, in the blissed-out way only the new converted can possess. His hair was no longer dyed black; it was its natural light brown color. I don't think I've ever seen it before. I did my best not to wince.

This was a weird meeting, and both of us knew that. "Aaron" had been a pretty good friend of mine. When he moved to West Coast, I managed to help him get a job and a social group. Since he moved back to DC, we kind of lost touch, but we had been to shows and movies together since the move back—he was the one I went to see Donnie Darko with, and Aaron was a reliable concert buddy. It was during the workday, when I was forwarding silly things to him, that I noticed the change. I had just gotten one of those horrible reactionary forwarded emails from a distant cousin of mine that blamed Katrina on sin or hubris, and I'd forwarded it to him with comment, 'Isn't this ridiculous?'


"Actually, it's not," he'd responded. "I do feel that God isn't really pleased with our society." I was pretty shaken up by this sharp detour, and arranged to meet him at a restaurant we frequented, to tell me what was on his mind.

Maybe I'm being judgmental, I thought, and maybe he's really found happiness.

"Are you still attracted to men?" I asked him gingerly.

That look of beatific repose didn't alter. "I take each day at a time. We're not supposed to look at it that way."

"Well, then," I said, searching his face, "What makes you gay?"

He leaned back in his seat confidently. "My relationship with my father. I can see that my search for a male figure came from the screwed up relationship I had with him. And the things that I was doing. I went to sex clubs, met guys online, had some unsafe sex. The whole time I was thinking, 'God doesn't want this for us.'"

"Have you considered a gay religious group?"

He waved the idea away, like it was a pesky servant. "No, no. That's just heretical thinking. God has a design for us. We're broken, but through His love, was can be fixed."

"Do you really think everyone can be 'converted'? Richard Simmons? Little Richard?"

He laughed—the first time I'd seen the real Aaron through the haze of dogma. "Of course not. God's not stupid! But you do have to make a good faith effort to follow His plan."

It was bizarre to have this conversation with Aaron. Years ago, he had been the president of the Gay Student Union at his university, and he'd been very active in transgender and queer rights. He did a dual degree in (queer) Literature and International Business. Now, in a complete 180, he'd become a member of the religious right. Where had his brain gone? The Kool-Aid he'd swallowed was mighty powerful.

When our entrees arrived, he played the trump card. "People can change. There was a peer-reviewed study recently released by the American Psychological Association. The reviewer was actually one of the ones who removed homosexuality from list of mental disorders. Well, did another study that proved that you can change if you are motivated to."

I was familiar with the Spitzer study, and its criticisms. Robert Spitzer was on the board of the APA who removed homosexuality from the DSM-IV manual back in 1973. In the 2000's, he published a study that seemed to refute his initial stance. But there were flaws in both methodology and the data sample. For methodology, Spitzer relied on phone conversations; the data sample were approximately 200 ex-gays referred to him by NARTH (the National Association for Research & Therapy of Homosexuality). Spitzer subsequently acknowledged the methodology as being 'incomplete' and expressed outrage that his nascent work was used in a political manner.

I didn't tell Aaron this, though. I had a feeling that he would shut me down, and that the organization that he'd joined already had a pat response prepared. No, my job was to let him know that I'd be there for him should his conversion fail. I had to tread carefully.

I learned more about the group that he had joined. Whoever retooled it did their marketing research well, I have to admit. The group stresses celibacy, rather than outright conversion.

It was mostly a support group for those struggling with Same Sex Attraction, modeled after successful 12-step programs. The imperfection of existence is acknowledged, and they have a rather loose leash on their members. But still, the core is that homosexuality is WRONG. The only path to heaven in this case, is to cut your nose off despite your face.. Denial and self-loathing is a key part of this worldview, even though they have sugarcoated it.

I left our meeting with a sour taste in my mouth. Aaron was—and probably still is—smarter than I am. So, how could he fall for this sham? I was also disturbed, because I understood the seduction of such a program. Frankly, my road to self-acceptance is incomplete. I don't particularly fit in with the gay community or many of its subcultures for a variety of reasons. I have not yet met The One and I'm not holding my breath, either. I've lost straight friends over being gay, and seen gay friends succumb to self-destructive behavior. My family is supportive, but they wouldn't exactly be upset if I could change.

The idea of a salvation, of being welcome into the community of God and grace and, indeed, society at large, is very attractive. The only thing that stops me from following Aaron isn't my endless reserves of strength or my sparkling intelligence; it's that I'm a natural skeptic. I'm not a 'joiner.' As a black man in a racist world, being able to cut through bullshit ideologies is part and parcel of my survival; that experience gives me a kind of immunity to the messages . The ex-gay movement deals in false dichotomies: idealized heterosexuality vs. demonized homosexuality. And Aaron was always an idealist. I remembered when he was a bar back at a gay bar and all of the nasty things he'd say about the other patrons. At the time, it just seemed like cattiness. Looking back, I now realize that he was reinforcing his belief in negative stereotypes.

I have since lost touch with Aaron. The last time I spoke to him, he had been a relationship with a woman and was gushing about how wonderful it was. Not the woman, but heterosexuality. He didn't have sex with her, because that was sinful; and he was going on about how mature the relationship was. I was thinking that a relationship denuded of that pesky thing called sexual desire could seem 'mature.' And anemic. Last I heard, they broke up. He has since then become more involved with his group, and even turned from liberal to conservative. He also likes starting political arguments, to piss off us liberals, like a male Ann Coulter.

I miss the old Aaron.