When I was young I was always an outsider, probably due to the fact that my family was in such trouble. My mother had some sort of mental illness, which went undiagnosed although I think that it was a kind of depression brought on by a combination of postpartum depression, menopause and the death of her father which all happened within 2 years or so. She sat in a hostile fury at the middle of the family--full of rage, fear, desperation, sorrow and surrender. This was terrifying and filled almost every horizon in my young life. I did everything I could to keep peace. 

I became a real loner socially and spent a great deal of energy looking after the family. In time, I became the main confidante, nurse, cook, cleaner and I looked after my little sister a lot. My father left me with my mother while he, my brothers, and Dad's mother became allies. My dad was a very weak influence in my life although everyone else seemed to love him. Both my brothers fought with him a lot and were angry with him, but he was the parent they turned to. I didn't feel much of anything for him. 

Throughout my very isolated youth, I began to accept with grim horror the fact that I was "queer". I was always very religious and I prayed and prayed but nothing changed. I turned to the harsher parts of the Bible (eternal damnation, lakes of fire, and so on) and threatened myself to frighten myself away from homoerotic fantasy--but to no avail. Living in my head was like living with the Grand Inquisitor. 

When I turned 18, I left for Montreal. I wanted to start travelling around the world. It was the year before Expo 67 and the whole world came to Montreal. In time I became very involved in the gay life--I guess I was a street kid of sorts, although it was sort of hard to tell with so many hippies around. I was very attached to the hippies and became more so as I grew more and more disillusioned with the gay life. On the whole, my life was like a long spiral downward--especially with hallucinogens. I was never too promiscuous by the standards of the time but that was definitely in the cards for me. 

This whole downward cycle was interrupted by a long bout of hepatitis. At 25, I felt my life was over. It was during my long illness that I came in contact with the Baha'is and my life started over. I was so disillusioned with the gay life that I was secretly grateful that it was against Baha'i law. At that time, so carried away I was by the Baha'i Writings the whole idea of homosexuality meant very little to me. Getting the hallucinogens out of my system was a more pressing problem. 

My life started over. I put sex on a back burner, went back to school in Vancouver, and began to rebuild my life. It took about 10 years for me to find a career and settle into it. I moved to a remote rural area, made friends and began to feel secure about life for the first time. 

Then everything began to fall apart. The pot at the back of the stove began to boil over and start burning. It was then that I began to really learn the difference between chastity and celibacy. I had been celibate since I began a Baha'i but I had been 'white knuckling' it. I was afraid that I would not be able to control it any longer. I looked for help with 3 therapists then I found Adult Children's groups, which gave me real help with most of the problems, but they had little to say about sexuality. 

Almost by chance, I came across some Christian ex-gay groups. The first group I found was HA in Reading Pa. I still remember the day the package of literature came in the mail. It was like I was getting yet another second chance in life. I read about Moberly, Payne, Nicolosi, Comiskey, and Worthen. I even drove to Philadelphia then to St. Raphael to meet John J and then Frank Worthen one summer. Driving through the deserts and canyons of the Southwest was one of the peak experiences of my life. 

Through HA, I found a Christian therapist in a nearby city 400 miles away and I went to see him 2 times a month for 2 years. At last I was beginning to find peace that I had given up on. At last, I had found a therapist who believed in me and was willing to help me with my problems. He knew all about Moberly and the others and had helped many gay men in the past. I found out later that this was not easy for him; it had attracted the suspicions of the licensing board and they were dubious about registering him, even though he did all the course work etc that other therapists were required to do. Things worked out for him, but I am very grateful for his courage and kindness. 

Although I'm not Christian, I have always been treated with the greatest of kindness of love by the Christian ex-gays that I have met. I only hope that I will be as willing to defend them as my therapist was willing to help me. 

Currently, my life is going quite well. Work and community life is becoming much more stable and enjoyable. My confidence levels have really gone way up. I'm deepening my friendships with men in ways that I never thought possible and I'm generally very optimistic about the future. This I attribute to the recovery I have gone into. The term 'ex-gay' feels uncomfortable because I still feel homosexual urges in times of stress or depression. 

I look forward to the day when I will be able to look at the deep scars on my psyche with pride and say that I won these scars fairly in the battle of life. 

With respect 
Gary 
PS I have done a lot of work on my web page.