by C. J. Hardee

I've come to realize that I am not a very patient person. I always thought that I was, but over the past two years, I have come to realize that perhaps I am horrible at being patient. I can sit for hours by a lake, with a fishing rod in hand, I can wait for days knowing the first spring rain is on its way to quench the dry Texas ground, I can wait for months knowing my best friend and his fiance will be down to visit me from Seattle... but I cannot wait any longer for my family to realize that nothing on or in this world, made me a lesbian.

I can no longer listen to my parents and grandmother say that me going off to a State University made me gay, that the bullying I went through in middle school is the reason for my "same sex attraction," I no longer have the patience in constantly telling my Mom and Dad that they didn't do anything to make me the way that I am. I no longer have the patience in trying to convince my family that I am still the same decent, god-fearing, family centered, healthy, generous, loving and independent woman.

When I came out to my close friends over five years ago, I had never felt more free and genuine in my entire life. I lived three years, in-hiding to my family because I knew exactly what they would think. I knew that they would think it was their fault, that I would somehow be a dangerous influence to my nieces and nephews and that I was willingly living in sin. That Satan had captured me and had his evil hooks in me. "the face of the enemy, he comes to steal, kill and destroy. He is so real and he is the roaring lion of the scriptures. What I am trying to convey is that I have such anger where Satan is so active, you are so precious to me..." It burns and tears my heart hearing the loss and sorrow and darkness that is felt towards me from someone who is supposed to love me unconditionally (of which they said two messages prior). I want to reply back "I'm not a whore! I don't do crack! What's your problem with me?!"

I'm tired of waiting on my family. My patience in them is gone. Nothing I can do or say sinks in. They have voluntarily chosen to set up a battle against me. Let God be the judge. We are called to love, love as Christ has loved us.

How much longer can my heart and my mind stand up against them? How much longer can I listen to these words of guilt and blame and disgust before I start hating myself again? I will not go back into that depression that I finally escaped from. I will not go back to living a lie so that my parents can not "suffer." They say this is killing them, that this is the hardest thing that they never thought they'd have to face... but what about me? What about knowing that your Mother walks on eggshells around you? What about knowing that your Mother is terrified of asking how you are doing because you might talk about your girlfriend? What about knowing that your father won't make eye contact with you? What about knowing that when your grandmother calls you'll only get preached out, fire and brimstone? How much can you take? How much should you allow yourself to take before you push back? How can you show that it is killing you on the inside, their words and actions, without them saying that that is the Lord telling me that I am sinning? How much? How much patience?

As I am constantly struggling, I have to remember that I am loved. I know they love me. I know my girlfriend loves me. I have friends and other family members that love me. I am not alone in anything. I much have patience, if not for them, then for myself. I must continue to be strong and courageous.

"through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope." Romans 5: 2-4

Used with permission. Original found here.