Monday, October 26, 2020

On Being Bisexual




I don't always like talking about my sexuality. It's a personal issue for me, one that has led to both many joys and many heartaches. If I were honest with myself, the heartaches were more frequent than the joys, but when the joys came, they came in overflowing passion. Yes, I realize that they etymology of "passion" comes from suffering. So I see the irony in this as well.

The questions and comments about my sexuality sometimes overwhelm me. The comments come from both straight people and people in the LGBT community:

"I don't agree with your lifestyle, but I still love you."

"If you're bisexual, doesn't that mean you want to have sex all the time?"

"Being bi is the holding spot for fabulous, when you become gay."

"Isn't it possible that you're gay and not bi?"

"Have you ever heard the term, 'Bi now, gay later?'"

"How do you reconcile the Bible with your lifestyle?"

"Aren't you afraid of going to Hell?"


So, in a (perhaps futile) attempt to clarify who I am, I felt it might be time to explain what it means for me to be bisexual. I am by no means an authority on bisexuality. My experiences are mine alone. They may or may not be similar to other bi people's experiences.


When did I know?


No, I don't fall into the category of:  "Somehow I always knew." I didn't know what was going on with me. Growing up, I noticed myself being attracted to both men and women. It was at times disconcerting and confusing for me. I was scared to have any relationship, with either a man or a woman. I knew immediately that if I tried to have a relationship with a man, I would be disciplined by my parents. This is not a criticism of them, either. This is just a statement of fact. For them, any same-sex romantic relationship was a sin and a choice.

And . . . I at first believed that. I went on some dates when I was in high school. I was attracted to several girls at different camps, but my introverted self had so much difficulty in even approaching them. I didn't feel handsome. Going through puberty, who ever does? Having a bad case of acne, which could only be cured through Accutane, made my life a living Hell.

I went to Homecoming. Believe it or not, I was asked out. The whole situation for me was both great and awkward. She asked me out. She paid for dinner. She had the car. I felt like I was in a no-win situation. In retrospect, I should have realized that she showed so much interest in me and I should have been flattered. Instead, I was embarrassed:  Embarrassed that I didn't have a car at the time and embarrassed that I liked her, but didn't know what to do. I didn't go to prom at all while in high school. I just didn't have the courage to do so.

Do I regret that? Absolutely.

It was because I was attracted to women that I kept on thinking to myself:  "Being gay is a choice. It's not something that's genetic. People are lying and living in sin." How wrong I was.

You're probably thinking:  What about being attracted to men?

Yes, that happened, too, and came on in a fury. I hid it all, too. I saw guys my age and was attracted to them. I couldn't explain it, either. When people ask me what attracts me to men as opposed to women, it's hard to quantify. 

The Camp Years, with hair still!


Did I . . . you know?

I am not about to give away names, but this is perhaps is what was most difficult for me to do. Being attracted to both men and women, I would most often spend time with other guys my age. Sleepovers and camps sponsored by my church were the opportunities I had to experiment at all.

And, as with any church camp, the very next day was accompanied by amnesia and the guy I had the encounter with would normally deny it or act like nothing happened. Being a recluse, I was scared to even bring it up at all. Since those encounters happened at church youth retreats, church camps, or church sleepovers, the guilt placed on me by my church was overwhelming. It normally led to praying at the altar afterwards. (In my old denomination, this was a place near the front with a prayer rail and a place to kneel. For young people, it was only acceptable to pray at camp or a youth retreats, never during actual church services.)


The College Years




College came and matters only intensified themselves. My roommate, God bless him, was the best person in the world to me. I never discussed my sexuality with him and he was definitely only interested in girls.

And then it happened:  I fell in love. I fell in love with my best friend's girlfriend.

That sucks. It hurt like nothing else I had been through. I cared, though, more about my friend and never told him anything about it at all. When he moved back to Norway, his girlfriend insisted on spending every minute with me:  lunch, study breaks, on the phone. It was mostly to talk about him, but it became pure torture and pure bliss for me.

I was so confused. I didn't know what to do. My college offered counseling and I took advantage of it.

It was the first time I ever mentioned to another soul what I was feeling. I cried. I cried until it hurt to cry and I ran out of tears. All of those pent-up emotions came pouring out like never before. I felt so much better. Believe it or not, that counselor never told me what I was feeling was bad at all. He never said having same-sex attractions was a sin. That surprised me because I was attending a Christian college. I just assumed he thought that.

After my good, long cry, I was at peace again.


The Marriage Years

And then I was married! Those thirteen years together with my wife were some of the happiest and saddest times of my life. I had fallen in love with the most beautiful person in the world. It was wonderful. We had three beautiful sons together. The first son we struggled to have after a miscarriage. The second was a total surprise. Our last came during our difficult transition back to the United States from Germany.

In all that time I never discussed being bisexual with my wife. I had decided for myself that this was definitely a choice. I was happy with her. I enjoyed my life with her. I loved our ministry in Germany. I repressed everything I thought about other men. To my everlasting shame, I even told one of our members of our church in Germany that he should leave when he came out to me as gay.

At the same time, something terrible began to happen with me:  Depression. I was going through classic depression. I spent all my time in my office, buried in my computer or a book. I stopped talking to my wife. She became frustrated with me, too, and understandably so. It was during that time that our denomination, The Salvation Army, decided to send us back to the United States, not telling us why.

Only after being home for a year and a half did they tell us that they brought us home because of our marriage difficulties and thought to set us up with counseling when we returned. That didn't happen until we asked for help.

Instead, we were sent to a small congregation that had a history of financial problems, never having ever led a congregation in the United States. We floundered.

Our thrift store wasn't making any money. We just broke even. Our headquarters took over the store. It still only broke even.

I came out . . . as a liberal.

It was during this time that I had to face certain things about myself. I had changed. I had lived for 10 years in Germany:  from 2000-2010. I lived there before the attacks on September 11th. I came back to a changed and paranoid country. I was changed, too, but couldn't admit it to myself.

I started realizing I was a liberal with the horrendous healthcare system we have in the United States. My wife and I had decided to use a midwife to give birth with our third child, just as we had done with our first two children. This would have been covered by our insurance, but we had to find a doctor to give us prenatal care. Initially the doctors we talked with refused to even see us because we were giving birth at home. They felt that if we gave birth at home and something happened to the child that we would sue the doctors.

This was insane. We moved from a country where midwives are the standard for every birth and obstetricians are only called in case of an emergency.

So we had to pay for the birth out of pocket. Still, it was probably even cheaper than had we given birth at a hospital.

I started to complain about our situation on social media. Most of our friends, especially those in The Salvation Army, simply told us that we would get used to it again in the United States. We didn't. It seemed to get worse. Then they began to openly criticize us.

After detailing all of the frustrations I was having with the insurance and the absolute lack of any recycling facilities in our county, one of my parishioners told me, "You're a liberal." I was shocked. Me? A liberal? I voted for McCain in the election of 2008 (a decision I have since come to regret). Then I had to admit to myself. I was indeed a liberal.


The Progressive Salvationist

During this time, I thought to myself that I couldn't be the only one in my denomination who thought the same way. There had to be other people of a liberal persuasion.

Indeed there was. I found a fellow officer who posted many great posts about socialism and how Christianity is closer to socialism than capitalism. I approached this friend of mine and asked him what he thought about creating a group just for Salvationists of a liberal slant. We agreed and called the Facebook group:  "The Progressive Salvationist."




This was the beginning of the end of my career as a Salvation Army officer.

It was exciting. I met many other Salvationists, at first in the United States and Europe, but then worldwide, who were also progressive. We let anyone in at the beginning, as long as they were respectful. (This changed when people began sending screenshots to our headquarters to "report" on us.)

I began hearing very similar stories from our new members:  "I was an officer in The Salvation Army, but left because I am a woman and wanted to marry the woman I loved."

"I got kicked out of the Army for being gay."

I started then to think about this logically. When Jesus was on this Earth, he associated with people society had rejected:  Prostitutes, swindlers, unpatriotic tax collectors, lepers. If Jesus were here today, who are the marginalized of our society? The immigrant, people of color, the LGBT community. Jesus didn't ask them to change. He loved and accepted them. So I loved and accepted our members who were in the LGBT community.


What about you, Timothy?

I started then to logically think about myself. If you can love and affirm these other people who are in the LGBT community, what about yourself?

Can you be honest with yourself?

I. Am. Bisexual.

I cried. I came undone, but I was finally honest with myself.


The End

I came out to a friend. My messages were discovered, copied, and given to others against my knowledge and will. My wife was understandably upset. Although I still loved her, she wanted a divorce. There were other reasons, of course, but I will not disparage her. She is the mother of my 3 sons and I see the love of her in them as well. Divorce is never pretty and she will always be special to me.

Unfortunately, since we were going through the divorce, The Salvation Army terminated us as officers. They also told me that because of my stance on LGBT issues and because of my orientation, I can never become an officer again. My ordination was terminated irrevocably.

I lost everything:  My family, my job, my home, transportation, pension, etc.








The Beginning

I have talked in other posts about these issues before and what happened afterwards. 

Being bisexual openly is a new thing. I have had many friends come out to me personally, but not openly yet. It is comforting talking to them about what it means to be out. It is very difficult. It devastated my life, but it also opened up a new life.

What does it mean to be bisexual then for me? I have the best of both worlds. Loving all people no matter their gender is perhaps one of the godliest things I can think of.

I am reminded that Jesus said that the Greatest Commandments were to love God and to love others. All other instructions for life stem from these two. My being bisexual does not go against either of these commandments.

I am discovering God in a new way than I have met God before:  Bigger than the god of my childhood and evangelicalism. 

Awhile ago I wrote these words on Twitter:

One thing I miss about Evangelical Christianity is the anthropomorphized god I worshipped. This often centered on Jesus, which is not good for a good Trinitarian. It was as if this God were somehow tangible, giving rise to the "Jesus is my boyfriend" worship songs. That made it very confusing for me, growing up bisexual. In discovering mysticism, God became both impersonal and more personal; closer, but more aloof. In all this, I am still discovering who and what God is, leaving behind the god of my imagination and discovering the Mystical One.




photo credit: Arturo- The Last Waltz - Variações via photopin (license)

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