When I was a little girl, I knew that I didn’t want to kiss boys or marry a boy. But I did want to kiss girls. I even got in trouble in first grade for kissing one of my friends – my teacher told me that we don’t do that. But it’s just always been a thing for me, I didn’t know what it was and never really had a “great realization” moment. As I got older it mostly just confused me, because I grew up in a Christian household and wasn’t exposed to any LGBTQ media. I didn’t know anybody who was gay and hadn’t interacted with anything of the kind.

In high school I started going on the internet more and learning about same-sex attraction, learning what it was that I was feeling. And then I got super concerned. “I’m screwed,” I thought. “This is what my life is going to be, now. I’m going to have to hide it and won’t experience what other people experience.

“…and, I’m going to have to figure out how to deal with this.” I was determined at that moment to take this secret to my grave.

I had good friends, and in all honesty they were so cool with how much of a tomboy I was, they probably would’ve been cool about me being gay, too. Maybe. But I found the idea of telling them horrifying. It seemed like if I told them, my same-sex attraction would become the only thing about me. I was sure they would just pity me, and it would get really awkward—because they can’t do anything, really, and I don’t want them to feel bad for not being able to do anything. Things are good, so why jeopardize those relationships?

It’s the same with my family. I take care of them, mostly, my parents included. I don’t want them to have to take care of me.

Plus, it’s easier to ignore something about yourself when the people around you don’t know about it.

I’d rather be an alcoholic. Or addicted to drugs. It’d be better because at least I can fix those things. I know those aren’t easy things to overcome, but at least it’s possible, you know? I’ve heard stories where people like me are able to get married to someone of the opposite sex and live a happy life, but the majority, like 98%, don’t have that story.

My pastor is a bit of a “fire and brimstone” guy. I appreciate that he teaches the law and makes us understand what’s right and wrong and how we’re in need of a savior from our sin. I don’t think he’d betray my trust or anything if I were to talk to him, but I don’t think he’d be very encouraging, either. I rarely walk away from church feeling equipped to continue the fight – not just the fight against my sexuality, but the fight against sin in general. Rather than encouraged, I feel more incentivized to fight… because I don’t want to go to hell, you know?

But then again, I don’t know if I want my church to change. I’ve only ever heard about two kinds of churches: there are the strict ones that say being gay is terrible and that we should be fighting back against the LGBTQ agenda, and then there are the loose ones that only preach the gospel and say being gay is good. I know I don’t want the loose church, so that only leaves the strict one. But I hope that middle-ground churches exist – ones that will stick to God’s word, but also listen and help you with what you’re fighting.

Because, to be honest, I don’t know if I really grasp the depths of the gospel when I still feel stuck in a struggle with sin, especially sin that no one will address or help me with. We talk about all kinds of sins that I know other people in church struggle with, but my struggle only gets covered in, like, youth group or a Bible study as a topic of teaching, but it doesn’t seem to be allowed in church like other sins are.

To be honest, I’m kind of drawn to the gay people I see online. Or I read books with gay characters in them sometimes, and it’s kind of nice. They seem confident, not angry, not stereotypical. Like their sexuality doesn’t bother them. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t agree that embracing their same-sex attraction is a good thing to do, and they’re not going to convince me otherwise. But I watch them and imagine what it would be like to be so unconflicted about this aspect of themselves. They’re a lot like me, and they’re the only ones I’ve found who actually talk about being gay. But unlike me, they aren’t so scared and angry.

I’m angry at God, too, honestly. He tells me he knew me when I was in my mother’s womb, and it seems like a double-edged sword because I think, so if you knew I was going to be gay, why didn’t you do anything about it? Or, I know that he has a purpose for me, and I think, well, when am I going to see it? Because I haven’t encountered anything in my life yet that would make this all make sense. It’s so frustrating.

I come across as pretty confident, but all my life I’ve felt very bleak. From a very young age, this has really bothered me. I remember in my teens thinking, you know what? I’m just going to join the military. And if I die by the time I’m 25, then I die. Because what’s the point? I don’t think I was suicidal, really. I didn’t actively want to end it all. But I also didn’t see much of a point to continue on.

I would love for other same-sex attracted people not to get to that point. I’ve never met another same-sex attracted Christian, but I know they’re out there. And I want them to be braver than I’ve been. I hope they can find a way to avoid letting it consume them like it’s consumed me.

Talk to someone. Be confident, and talk about this stuff in your church, if you can. And seek out other people who understand what you’re going through. If your family or friends are willing to talk, do it.