I’m Gay And I Was Born Into A Homophobic Family - My Life Is A Nightmare | This is my story
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Hello, everybody. I'm Matthew and a couple of years ago, I realized that I'd been brainwashed from childhood and decided to run away from home.
My whole family, my parents, my grandparents, my siblings were in the church. I think the first time that I joined them in picketing parades and funerals was when I was only 5 or 6 years old. I’d wear a cute little suit and stand by my mother, holding a sign, “God hates homos.” People on the other side would come up to us and be angry or scream; I was convinced that they were the ones that were hateful. My mom would then turn to me, hold my hand and say, “they don’t accept God’s love, we’re bringing them God’s love.” But those weren’t even the most horrible pickets I’ve been to.
I remember one in particular where I felt really uncomfortable. There was this shooting that happened when I was already a teenager, about 14-15 years old, and my whole community went to the funerals to celebrate. I was already a really passionate believer by then. I got out of the car with a sign that said “God sent the shooter” and I was proud of it. But when we stood in front of the mourning parents, there was still heartache that overwhelmed me. I was holding my sign, but tried to cover my face. I think I knew that if I looked straight into the eyes of the mourners, I’d know how much this hurt. I heard the victim’s mother sobbing loudly, a father trying to argue with my loved ones, trying to ask us to leave. Eventually, we left, my family still fuming over how sinful and wrong everyone was. But I was silent. I couldn’t let myself join in on their hate...
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