For most of us, coming out and working through religious issues has required huge amounts of vulnerability (opening ourselves up to be easily hurt, influenced, or attacked).
We open ourselves up to others to share our deepest secrets, our shame, our mental health and the pain we’ve lived with.
Even with strong relationships and a solid loving community, this can be very traumatic. But without them, it can be a long lonely journey. Whatever the process for each of us, it’s something that requires guts, determination and bravery.
If we have come out of fundamentalism/pentecostalism etc we have the pain of losing those who we thought loved and cared for us. We become the target of their abuse, disguised as love and concern at best, or outright condemnation and assignment to hell at worst.
Eventually we have to turn our backs on these people and establish a new life with people who really do care, who actually love us unconditionally. To keep contact with those who abuse us is simply too hard, especially if our mental health has been affected. Our vulnerability can only stand so much and we must protect ourselves to survive.
Personally, this has been a complex battle. Part of me would love to walk away and never engage with this type of religion again. But I’m also confronted with the reality that I was part of the system that causes so much abuse, being a leader in Living Waters conversion therapy for so long. I shudder to think of the damage I did and perhaps the loss of life I was implicit in.
Silent Gays has been a work of passion and compassion for all those who have experienced religious abuse. But it puts me in a constant state of vulnerability. I share my life over and over. I am constantly confronted and condemned by traditional Christians. The more I reach out to those silently suffering in churches, the more I’m abused. It’s a situation of constant vulnerability, and honestly, some days it’s really hard. It takes it’s toll.
Despite this, my heart for the abused is stronger than ever, so I have to work with the balancing act of self preservation and confrontation. I will not stop confronting the religious fundamentalists because I know that in doing so, others are watching – those who would never speak out in vulnerability. I know that my strength in being vulnerable is an inspiration.
In writing this, I’m once again being vulnerable. Some will say it’s the least I can do given my participation in the abuse. Other’s will say to just let it all go and get on with my life. Perhaps one day I will walk away, but I think I’d never stop feeling for the countless others struggling under the deathly weight of religion.
Meanwhile, I do all I can to walk that fine line, and live my life to it’s fullest.
