I grew up in a Christian family in Sydney, went toa Baptistchurch,
and believed in the whole kit and caboodle when it came to God and
Creation and stuff. At church, I began hearing about homosexuals
being perverted when I was about 10. I remember talking to Dad,
and he told me there was something wrong with their make up,
but it was also a choice against God and nature. Around that
time, I started having crushes on boys.
I vividly remember one of Dad’s friends telling him about someone
who asked to be prayed for, because they were gay. He said, “I cast
seven demons out of him.” I got into a panic – for the longest time,
I had a fear I was demon-possessed. I started pretending to have
crushes on girls; at one point, I thought I had feelings about men
because I was an artist. Creative people appreciate different bodies,
or something like that. By 14, though, I knew I was gay.
I believed I was destined for hell, and was constantly afraid of
dying and sizzling in a pan of fire for eternity. Now it’s almost
laughable to me – I don’t believe in a hell like that, but for a
kid it’s really frightening. Around 16, I decided to move from
a Christian school to a public school so I could find more
non-Christian friends to spread the good news of Jesus to.
I became known as ‘Christian Chris’. I was going to church
three or four times a week, trying to atone for my inner guilt
by being the best Christian possible on the outside.
Around that time, I confided in my pastor about being gay, and
he eventually introduced me to the Australian director of Living
Waters – an ‘ex-gay’ organisation. Their course was presented
as a way of finding ‘healing’ from being gay, so I decided that,
after I left school, I’d move to Canberra and sign up. I could have
done it in Sydney, but I wanted to move away, because I’d made
some gay friends and started to explore the Oxford Street scene,
drifting from the church a bit. I came out to friends at school;
they were extremely happy for me. I started to tell people at
church, and they cried – the pastor took me aside and told me
not to tell anyone else, because it was upsetting them. My parents
were devastated – they both cried – and I’d have fights with my
dad, who was quite homophobic.
When I was 17, my parents took me to a Christian conference in
Tasmania. I was really angry and didn’t want to go, but eventually
fell back into wanting to be accepted by the church. By the end of
the conference, I’d decided I’d dedicate my life to God and wouldn’t
be gay anymore. I finished school, moved to Canberra as I’d
planned, and did a six-month Living Waters course.It was a lot like Alcoholics Anonymous. We’d get together
once a week and work our way through textbooks full of pseudo-
scientific and pseudo-psychological reasons for homosexuality.
It was the ideology I’d grown up with, but intensified, just
focused on sexuality and gender. There’d be a time of worship,
and a different speaker every week. We’d break into groups for
confession, talk about our struggles with our sexuality, and then
be anointed with oil. At the end of the course, I was disappointed
to find I was still as gay as ever. Nevertheless, I filled out a
questionnaire saying I identified as ‘heterosexual ex-gay’. I always
laugh – or rather, cry – when I read those studies of ‘ex-gay’
people that ask them to rate how straight they are. It’s total
bullshit – as if anyone’s filling them out honestly.
After Living Waters, I decided to be celibate until God healed
me – I really believed he would. I started to clutch at anything that
would help me, including exorcisms. I’d seen them when I was
younger, and they were quite scary. There was screaming, but no
vomiting like inThe Exorcist; essentially, it’s a group of peopleafter experiencing it firsthand,
chris csabs is campaigning against
gay conversion therapy.
AS TOLD TO LETA KEENSeverybody
has a story
pieces of me