Feelings of Closeness
by Carlton Quattlebaum
Being a true romantic, I took two weeks vacation from my position as a minister of music to surprise my wife with a trip for our 5th wedding anniversary. As it turned out, the biggest surprise wasn't the trip to Disney World.
On the night of our anniversary, as we lay in the moonlight, Tammy uttered the agonizing question, "What's wrong?" The only way I knew to answer was to whisper the words, "I'm gay." As much as I wanted her to walk out of the room, I thank God that she didn't. For the first time, someone who knew me and loved me also knew my secret and wasn't bolting for the door. To the contrary, Tammy said that if I was willing to get help, she would be there for me. That was literally the first glimmer of hope I ever had in light of my homosexual struggle - a struggle that dated back to at least age eight.
I was used to living without a father because when I was very young my parents divorced. The sudden death of my dad at age eight simply made his absence permanent, leaving me with a hole in my heart and unequipped to live in a boy's world. I didn't have a clue how to do things I would have learned from Dad, like playing baseball, shooting hoops and relating to other boys.
Not too long after Dad died, a man in my church focused his attention on me. Unfortunately, I didn't have the capacity to process what was happening. At the time, being sexually abused didn't feel like a violation - I finally felt special and close to a father figure. I also discovered that I could use fantasy and masturbation to help me achieve the same counterfeit feelings of closeness that I felt from my abuser.
In the contest for peer acceptance, I struck out. While other boys played together outside, I lived isolated in my world of fantasy. As I entered adolescence, I sought out others sexually to recapture those feelings of closeness, which helped me medicate the pain of rejection and abandonment. It was around this time that I developed the ability to identify homosexuality in others, which facilitated numerous anonymous sexual encounters over the course of several decades.
Equally endless were my desperate, private confessions to God. Growing up in the church, I heard that homosexuality was an abomination, attendant with remarks like, "God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve." I got the picture - I was an abomination. I even got good at laughing at all of the jokes that made light of my most profound struggles; in reality I was dying inside.
I did have my musical skills. They not only provided me with a means to receive approval from people, but also from God. If I can perform well enough for God, I thought, then hopefully He will overlook my sin. I expected my gifts to redeem me. In the Church's unwillingness to deal with this issue, many like me are driven into closets of shame, only to emerge in leadership where the consequences of their brokenness are much greater.
I started a relationship with a girl named Tammy on New Year's Eve 1984 and asked her to marry me on Valentine's Day, only six short weeks after our first date. Five months later, on July 20, 1985 , we were married. I never considered Tammy a "beard" - a relationship for appearance purposes only, to deflect any suspicions about my homosexuality. Falling in love with her was real, but also gave me a false hope that I could escape the vortex in which I felt increasingly lost. I simply had no clue how to get out of the lifestyle I was falling into. A few years into marriage a lot more of me was invested in deception and brokenness than in intimacy and wholeness. Even so, I was unable to walk away from our marriage.
Then on the night of our anniversary, I came clean with Tammy. At that point, I decided to take action and seek out help. In a difficult search, I ultimately found Reconciliation Ministries, an Exodus member ministry in Detroit, Michigan. God used Reconciliation to effect enormous changes and growth in my life and marriage - far beyond what we dared to hope for. A marriage that survived for years without intimacy was deepening and growing, even as our family grew with births of our children.
But healing did not come without a great deal of risk and pain. My familiar patterns of pursuing closeness had never included being vulnerable. This pattern extended beyond my sexual acting out. In everyday relationships, in and out of the church, I never dared to let people see who I really was. I became a master of creating whatever masks I needed to secure false intimacy with others. The masquerade continued into my marriage as I hid the truth of my identity and behavior from my wife because I feared her rejection. My masks provided an alternate reality and allowed me to escape the painful truth of my life: I hated who I was. I did not hate myself simply for being gay, or for the pattern of lying which kept me from experiencing the consequences of my sin. My self-hatred extended to the deepest recesses of my being. There was literally nothing about me that I considered good or worthy of any consideration or affection. Acting out homosexually allowed me to secure a sense of closeness, especially from men, by giving away something I considered worthless - myself.
The process of discovering and reclaiming myself required self-examination, brutally honest confession to God and others, and a passion to realize the identity and destiny I knew God had for me. It required facing not only others' sins against me, but my own sinful responses and choices. It meant letting go of false masks and risking rejection in order to experience a transcendent closeness - an authentic intimacy. The journey has been filled with victory and disappointment, dramatic spikes in growth and seemingly endless plateaus. But it has been replete with divine purpose and true intimacy that has revealed the value and worth of this life.
Now, over eighteen years of marriage has confirmed that I could not have made a better choice for a wife, despite the fact that marrying amidst my profound brokenness was a misguided decision. And, our healing has brought about a new ministry direction helping others who are trapped in sin. Today, Healing Choices Ministry exists to inspire and equip people to pursue and experience healing in their relationships and sexuality, while leading then into a deepening relationship with their Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. That closeness is neither evasive nor violating, but ever-present and empowering. He mentors us in ways that transcend fallible human influences, and yet He calls us into relationship with one another. Through Him, we can do so with confidence. My choice to entrust my heart to Him has been the most healing choice of my life.
Carlton is Executive Director of Healing Choices Ministry, an Exodus member ministry in Canton, MI. He and his wife Tammy have two children, Jonathan and Sarah. The ministry, hosted by TriCity Christian Center, offers support groups for those strugglig with sexual and relational issues, as well as their family members. You can contact Carlton at 734.397.4700 or carlton@healingchoices.us.
More Testimonies:
A Pastor A Father An Ex-Lesbian
