P r i d e

I used to believe I was perfect. I grew up in a perfect family, did well in school, and attended church weekly. I got awards and accolades, went off to college and made my parents so proud. I followed the rules and truly excelled. I thought I only had one minor defect that would potentially derail everything and send me plummeting to my demise—I'm gay.

I did everything in my power to hide this "defect." I played the role as the straight, Christian male. I dated girls, played sports, and did my best to act masculine, and I truly believed that my attraction to men would someday go away. With enough prayer and discipline, it would disappear and I would be able to live out a truly fulfilling heterosexual lifestyle.

However, in my twenties, I realized it wasn't my sexuality that needed to be fixed, it was my pride. In the first book of John, it says, “For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father, but from the world.” My only concern was trying to conquer the lust of the flesh and of the eyes. In all seriousness, I was not only trying to conquer it, but completely obliterate it. I was trying accomplish the impossible task of eradicating my homosexuality while maintaining a picture perfect image. However, beneath the surface, an ugly dragon was lurking inside of me. This dragon was the deadly sin of pride.

The evangelical Christian world that I grew up in put an unhealthily weight on sexual purity. Not only was it of paramount importance to remain sexually chaste, but it was even more important to resist the unspeakable sin of homosexuality.

All throughout my twenties, I was sexually untouched—an exemplary model of how to overcome lust. I was the nice, Christian boy that every mother wanted for her daughter (Little did they know I wanted nothing to do with their daughters). All the while, pride was festering inside of me. Like mold that grows unnoticed behind a wall, it was invisible to the naked eye, but deadly.

I was like Eustace in TheChronicles of Narnia. One day, I woke up and realized my skin was not my own, but that of a dragon. I could not remove the nasty dragon skin by myself. As much as I tried, it only grew worse. Before I knew it, I was unrecognizable. I was covered in hideous dragon skin and only God could remove it. And he did this in a very painful way.

The only way to remove the dragon skin was to humble myself and accept my sexuality. This was the hardest thing I had ever done. Growing up in a Christian home, I was taught to detest the abominable sin of homosexuality. I internalized this so deeply and didn't even realize that I ended up detesting myself. I was the embodiment of the most foul sin. I hated myself, but God was teaching me to begin to love myself—even my homosexuality.

So, here I am today, embracing my sexuality as something God intended. If we spend our lives trying to change something that is impossible to change, then we overlook the real dragons inside of us. If we spend our lives hiding in the shadows of shame and self-hatred, we are unable to see the darker shadows that are much more harmful.

We were created to live in the light and not in the shadows. Our ugly imperfections will only fester when kept in the dark. When we pull them into the light and expose them to ourselves and our loved ones, only then can they begin to heal. I thought it was my sexuality that needed healing, but in truth, it was my pride. While trying to "fix" my sexuality, I was unaware of this disgusting need to appear perfect to those around me.