I used to pray -work in progress

I grew up in the Midwest in the middle of no where in a place called Saukville Wisconsin. I went to school in this even smaller town called Fredonia. I had my siblings as my playmates and parents who expected me to be this strong manly man but I just wanted to dance and sing.

A lot of people don't know this about me but I did not want to be gay. I think that I always knew I was different but I didn't know why. Gay wasn't something I grew up really understanding. I went almost half of my life never meeting another openly gay person. There were really no gay people on TV, I think the first time I remember seeing a gay person was on Dawson's Creek. For me it hurts to remember this because I was disgusted. Or I thought I was supposed to be. I think probably about the time I hit middle school it really started to hit me that I liked boys. I didn't understand it because I thought I liked women. I had girl friends since the 4th grade. All my friends were girls. I thought I was this big ladies man.

I was made fun of so much for as long as I can remember. I used to study other guys and try to imitate them. I wanted to be more manly. I wanted to fit in with the guys but the harder I tried the bigger fool I made of myself.

I grew up very Catholic and was heavily involved in my church. Once I started to realize that I liked boys I was terrified. I had no one to talk to. I had no one to tell me that I was okay. I used to be in church standing at the front holding a bible while the priest read from it during mass. I was an alter boy at two churches. I would be holding the bible and asking God at the same time to help me. "Lord please help me." I used to ask. I used to ask him to save me. I just simply couldn't be gay. I couldn't like boys. I was told by kids my whole life I was gay. Or that I acted girly. And I always thought no I wasn't. Realizing these kids who taunted me might have been right was terrifying.

My whole life I was in a battle to get my father's approval. I just wanted him to love me and I just couldn't figure out how to make him. I acted out. I disobeyed. I tried to do things like go fishing. But it just wasn't me. I knew or at least thought my dad, my mom no one would love me if I was gay. I had never once heard anything positive about being gay from anyone around me. In fact I had already been made fun of, for as long as I can remember, for being gay.

Probably around the end of 8th grade it hit me that I was in fact gay. It was awful because I thought I hated gay people. Which in turn made me think that I hated myself.

For years I had been trying to sort this out in my head with no one to talk to. In CCD which was like religious classes I was sitting in class being taught by an older nun who was telling the class how wrong homosexuality was. I could feel the whole classes eyes on me. I was front row and was trying not to just burst out in tears or just run out of the room. I was an abomination. I was going to hell. My prayers were not being answered and I thought God didn't love me.

Class ended and my mom picked me and asked how was class. I just had to pretend like nothing happened, it was all normal, I had to pretend that I didn't feel like my soul was just ripped out of my chest and I didn't know what to do. I got home ran up to my room and cried for hours.