Longing For Love Longing For Love
By Beth Romanowski
After an evening of angry words with my parents, I lay in mybedroom, staring into the darkness. Finally they knew I was gay.Where could I turn now? Everyone hated me. Worst of all, I hatedmyself.
January’s cold air was crisp and brutal. My boots crunched againstthe snow as I followed my father to his black Cadillac.
“So, what are you?” He clipped the words short as he slammed thedoor and we headed home. “Are you the queen, or is she?” I tried tomake myself small against the cold door, keeping my eyes glued to thefloorboard.
My father had just found out I was gay.
I was born on January 25, 1963, the second daughter of analcoholic father and an emotionally hurt mother.
The doctors were concerned about my health before I was bornbecause my mother was hooked on prescription uppers and downers. Atthe time of my birth, my mother was in the middle of a nervousbreakdown. Shortly after I arrived my father came home one evening tohear my mother’s screams as she battered her head against the wall.
My mother, now a beautiful Christian, understands that herproblems stemmed from a traumatic childhood. Her father was analcoholic and my mother became his emotional wife when her parentsseparated. Recently she has also become aware of being molested as achild.
While I was growing up my father provided most of my physicalbonding needs. Mother was always there when I needed her, but she wasnot demonstrative in her feelings of love. Consequently I began tolean heavily on my father. My mother and I were not close, and Ibegan to shut her out of my emotional life.
I recall terrible lonely feelings in the pit of my stomach duringgrade school days. I was afraid of going to school and leaving mymother, fearful she wouldn’t be there when I returned. I inventedillness symptoms for years to avoid facing reality at school.
My insecurities multiplied when I entered Junior High because Ifelt different. I fluctuated between 130 and 170 pounds and despisedevery inch of my body. Young teenagers aren’t known for beingsensitive and kids at school gave me the nickname “Fatty”. Too oftenI was also asked the humiliating question, “Are you pregnant?”
How I longed to feel loved and special to someone.
I usually had only one special friend during my years of school,which only intensified my feelings of loneliness and served tocatapult me into one very demanding friendship.
My father became the pastor of our church when I was 15. As hespent more and more time praying and fasting in his study, I turnedto a friend named Judy to fulfill the void inside me. Along with myfather’s change of position, he seemed to become more demanding inareas of morality and displayed critical disapproval of me.
I had no one left now with whom I could feel secure. Both of myparents were objects of my bitterness and resentment; I shut outtheir love and gravitated to Judy’s declaration that I was her bestfriend.
During tenth grade, Judy became my lover. I found ways to get outof my house on week nights by perfecting the art of telling lies. Myconscience pricked me terribly, but the love and acceptance I feltfrom Judy were worth it to me. I depended on Judy for every emotionalneed. I would have died to please her, my need for security was sogreat.
After two years with Judy, I began to wonder if I was what societycalled “gay”.
I didn’t come to a conclusion until that dark night in January.Looking back now, I realize that over the years I had interests inother girls. Although short-lived, I also had a few friends that I”loved” very early in life. But I never confronted my homosexualityuntil my world came crashing down, encompassing me with guilt andshame.
That same evening in January, my father had found a letter fromJudy expressing her love for me. I was at Judy’s house with hercousin, Dick. At one point in the evening Dick came crashing into thebedroom, laughing. Judy threw me from her and yelled in a disgustedtone, “Get away from me, you’re sick!” I can still feel the hurt ofrealizing her love for me was false. She would rather save her honorthan declare her love for me.
Then the door bell rang, announcing my father’s arrival. Thatnight, for the first time, I realized I was gay. After an evening ofangry accusations from my parents and many angry words, I lay in mybedroom, staring into the darkness. What have I done? I thought.Where can I turn now? I hated myself and I felt like everyone elsehated me too.
I knew that my parents had every right to ostracize me, and I feltthat they would also be justified in their hatred of me. Guilt clungto me like a heavy blanket. For three days I stumbled through themotions of life in a stupor. On the evening of the third day, I criedout to God in despair.
“Please help me.” That’s all I could say. I felt so low that therewas nothing to offer Him. But slowly, through the darkness, like aflower blooming, I felt God speaking to me.
“Give your life, your family and yourself. I will give them backto you one hundredfold.” God’s cleansing peace washed over my woundsas I yielded everything to Him.
I would like to say my surrender to God was the end of mystruggles, but in reality I had only taken the first step towardfreedom as I began the slow process of coming out of homosexuality.
During the ensuing months, I experienced untold guilt and shame. Iwithdrew into a shell of condemnation. I had one friend who somehowloved me in spite of my past. Sue belonged to our church, so I saw alot of her in the following year of high school. Her friendship wasthe first I experienced as a Christian with a female outside ofhomosexuality.
Sue’s vivacious nature helped me find joy in my Christianity and,at the same time, provided a vent for my frequent periods of weeping.I had a lot of suppressed emotions pertaining to my parents. Sue wassuch a lighthearted person that my depression didn’t seem to affecther.
I know now that God sent Sue to me at a time of great need. Ientered a stage of denial, blocking from my mind any thoughts of mypast relationship with Judy.
After I asked God for help I did not have a struggle with sexualfeelings for other women,nor did I have sexual feelings for men. Youmight say that I was neutral.
When I turned eighteen, I married the most wonderful man I haveever known. Tom had joined our church right after my relationshipwith Judy broke apart. He lived next door, so I saw a lot of him.After we’d known each other for about a year, he asked me to marryhim. I accepted immediately and we were married ten months later.
Tom was tall, ruggedly handsome, lighthearted and protective. Imarried him because I loved the secure feelings he gave me. Inbecoming Tom’s wife, I was looking for a father figure. He knew aboutmy past but didn’t judge me.
I realize now that although God had taken away my homosexualtendencies, I still had unresolved bitterness and resentment towardmy father and mother. These feelings caused my insecurities because Iwouldn’t allow myself to be loved by my parents. It would be manyyears until I could honestly deal with this problem.
Tom loved me through our first years with an unfailing passion.But no matter how much he tried to reassure me of his love, I doubtedit. I loved my husband with all my heart, but only like a child lovesa father.
After the birth of our first child, Jessica, it became painfullyapparent that I had an old problem hanging around. I had no desirefor the intimacies of married life. I was cold, constantly pushingaway Tom’s affection. I had no desire for intimate relationships withfriends, much less with my husband.
By 1987, Tom and I had been married six years and had threechildren. But all was not well. I was frequently depressed and myweight was up to 200 pounds.
We decided to join a counseling group at our church. Tom needed tovent his feelings of being abandoned by me. My marriage to Tom hadbecome a heavy cross on my back.
It took two years of counseling before I could see the bitternessI held toward my parents. I saw how I had shut out their love.Finally I started dealing with the hurts and feelings I had lockedaway.
For months I worked through these emotions. My first step was toshare with Tom some of the most painful periods of my gay past.
With these secrets out in the open, buried feelings from yearsbefore poured out of me. I leaned on Tom in full trust as I vented myemotions: Anger toward Judy and my parents. Shame for my sinfulactions. Embarrassment for being the gay daughter of a pastor.
All these feelings I labeled and cried through, worked on anddealt with over a period of months. Much of the time I struggled toremain open to my female friends and not operate in a shell of selfpreservation.
As I worked through these emotions, I began to notice a markedchange in my relationship with Tom. When he showed me affection thatin the past had triggered repulsion, now I felt a new response as awoman.
At times these last few years have been very difficult. Onlythrough the grace of Christ and His long suffering love have I beenable to come through this time.
A few months ago I dealt with the bitterness toward my parents. Itook a big step and wrote my mother, explaining my painful memories,my anger and hurt feelings toward her, and my desire to become closeas mother and daughter. The Lord is healing the breech and this issomething for which I’m very grateful. My father and I are alsogrowing close again.
I am no longer bound by homosexual feelings and I am now acomplete woman, very comfortable with heterosexuality. I no longerdeny or hide my past, but see God turning my weaknesses into Hisstrengths. Glory be to the Most High and All Powerful God!
Beth is a homemaker living in Milwaukee, WI. She and herhusband, Tom, have four children and attend Charity Faith Church.
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