Every Sunday.

Racing heart beat, sweaty palms, dry mouth, consumed by crippling anxiety … all these emotions as I sit in my car waiting to go into Church.

Yes you read that right, Church. The one place in the world where we should feel safe, at home and at complete peace. I used to feel like that before I stopped lying to myself, before I admitted to myself I was a lesbian.

I can’t explain the shame and exclusion I feel now as I walk through those doors. Every pat on the back followed by the disapproving stare makes me wish I wasn’t the way I am, but can I change who I am ? Can I ignore how I feel ? Can I be ‘a good Christian’ ? Aren’t we all created in Gods image, and if so why is my sexuality wrong ? How is how I love wrong ? God made me this way … God loves me, why can’t Christians love me ?

I really believed at one point I’d be accepted for who I am by my Church, the people who constantly said they loved me and called themselves my family. How could I have been so wrong ? My Pastor says she still loves me but in the same sentence tells me its wrong and a sin and if I ignore it I will eventually find the man God has picked for me. How can she say she loves me but not love every part of me ?


This blog will be a diary of my journey as a Gay Christian struggling to find my place within the Church. 


One thought on “Every Sunday.

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