surrounding you, laying hands on you and asking the demons inside
you to get out. Nothing happened, so I kept having them – I thought
maybe I wasn’t praying hard enough. I became really closed off to
other people and put walls up around myself. I created bizarre rules:
I wouldn’t watch any movies with good-looking male actors, because
it would make my mind wander. I had this idea that if I shut myself
off from any homosexual thoughts, I could starve it out.
At 21, I joined a Christian pop group and it was full-time ministry
for two years – touring around the country, making an album,
the whole thing. When I left the group, I was really depressed
and had developed severe OCD. Compulsive prayers; constantly
praying for forgiveness; hand-washing; not speaking to good-
looking guys – it was crippling. I’d read some Christian books
by ‘ex-gay’ people – most in their 40s, 50s and 60s – who’d
supposedly found ‘healing’ from homosexuality. One of them
was 27, though. I thought, “Wow, maybe I won’t be 100 by the
time God decides to heal me.”We started emailing and I asked, “When did you start being
attracted to girls, because I’m not at all and I’m trying really
hard.” He wrote back, “It’s not that simple. I can’t say I don’t have
homosexual feelings anymore.” My whole world came crumbling
down and I wanted to die. I’d never have killed myself, because
I was so scared of hell, but I prayed every day when I was in the
car: “Please God, let me be in an accident today.” I wanted to
stop struggling to be something I couldn’t seem to be. My parents
told me later that I’d lost my personality – I wasn’t laughing
or singing; I wasn’t Chris anymore.
One day, my mum took me out to coffee and asked how I was
handling being Christian and gay. I told her I didn’t want to talk
about it, that I was ex-gay. She said, “Maybe the reason God hasn’thealed you is because there’s nothing wrong with you.” I was taken
aback – my parents, as far as I’d known, had always supported me
in this ‘ex-gay’ endeavour. She said she and Dad had been praying
and researching for several years, and had changed their minds- God had made me this way. It hit me like a tonne of bricks; my
parents had done a full 180. Even so, it took me several more
years to be comfortable with being gay and Christian.
I still go to church. Not the same one I went to when I was
young, but I have a good relationship with people there. A lot
of them, including the pastor, have apologised for how they
steered me in my teenage years. They were trying to help, but
didn’t realise they were causing lasting damage that I’m still
working through today, with the aid of a psychologist. I’ve been
talking to a lot of conversion therapy survivors, and something
that’s common is serious anxiety disorders. If you’re telling
someone they can’t be the way they are, it’s not so surprising
that there’s damage.
I’ve had a couple of serious boyfriends who’ve been accepted
by my whole family. My parents were very supportive of the ‘yes’
vote last year – that’s how much they’ve changed. Recently,
I started a petition with change.org to outlaw gay conversion
therapy, as they don’t know the damage they’re causing. Every
six months or so a story pops up in the media and there’s outrage,
but nothing changes.
I thought the petition would get 100 signatures max, but within days
it exploded to 5000. When I saw that, I burst into tears – I thought,
“People do actually care.” I’ve had meetings with state health
ministers, which has been a privilege. Great things are coming out
of my experience. They aren’t wasted years – there’s going to be
real change in this country.Photo
Carine Thévenau
pieces of me