January 04, 2003
the cure *
Was just on a forum called Freedom from Homosexuality. (Yeah, I know, shouldn't'a gone, but I did.) This probably isn't surprising, given that the forum was more about "support for ex-gays" than for debate, but no one ever said how they were cured. Or the nature of the cure.
Now, being me, of course, I was doing some reading on ex-gay therapies. Not only do they have dismal "success rates," this is "success" defined at its most broadly-- cessation of homosexual activity. Not "cessation of homosexual feelings and attractions." Not even partial. The most they can give you is a half-celibate bisexual or a completely celibate gay person. In all but something like twenty percent of the cases, they can't even give you that much.
And they claim that they have a "cure." Bull.
That's not "freedom" from homosexuality. That's a delusion. It's a self-contradicting ideology: I'm now a former homosexual who still has homosexual feelings? Well, doesn't that mean that I'm still gay? Whether I've acted on it or not has no impact on my orientation.
Maybe if they said "freedom from destructive homosexual behavior," you know, something like getting people out of the cruiser culture, fine. But no, that's not effing CATCHY, is it? Nope. They have to dangle an effing CARROT in front of your self-hating nose and then yank it back in the form of "well, actually we don't cure homosexuality, per se" fine print.
That's not a cure, that's a palliative. And it's not even a NICE palliative. This is the kind of palliative that has stupidly high rates of failing to achieve even THAT much. And it's the kind of palliative that's harsh enough in the administering that it causes people to spiral into depression and suicide.
Which, for the record, not that anyone reads these records, is why in the absence of a concrete reason not to, I'm waiting until at least after I graduate college to tell my parents I'm bi. I have NO desire to be, if not disowned, then forced into therapy that's going to make me revisit those dark places. I've been depressed before, it was NOT nice, and it would be a really effing bad idea to make me go back there.
They would do it, too. If they didn't outright kick me out of the house. My mom was sitting in the kitchen a while back watching some TV news blurb about Michael Jackson the Baby-Dangler, and she muttered under her breath that he looked like a "fag." Later on, when Ignatius was home from his date, she commented, "I'm just glad you're not gay."
Mm-hmm. I left the room both times before I could accidentally give myself away. If she only knew. I can only imagine how my dad would react. Violently, I suppose.
Now, being me, of course, I was doing some reading on ex-gay therapies. Not only do they have dismal "success rates," this is "success" defined at its most broadly-- cessation of homosexual activity. Not "cessation of homosexual feelings and attractions." Not even partial. The most they can give you is a half-celibate bisexual or a completely celibate gay person. In all but something like twenty percent of the cases, they can't even give you that much.
And they claim that they have a "cure." Bull.
That's not "freedom" from homosexuality. That's a delusion. It's a self-contradicting ideology: I'm now a former homosexual who still has homosexual feelings? Well, doesn't that mean that I'm still gay? Whether I've acted on it or not has no impact on my orientation.
Maybe if they said "freedom from destructive homosexual behavior," you know, something like getting people out of the cruiser culture, fine. But no, that's not effing CATCHY, is it? Nope. They have to dangle an effing CARROT in front of your self-hating nose and then yank it back in the form of "well, actually we don't cure homosexuality, per se" fine print.
That's not a cure, that's a palliative. And it's not even a NICE palliative. This is the kind of palliative that has stupidly high rates of failing to achieve even THAT much. And it's the kind of palliative that's harsh enough in the administering that it causes people to spiral into depression and suicide.
Which, for the record, not that anyone reads these records, is why in the absence of a concrete reason not to, I'm waiting until at least after I graduate college to tell my parents I'm bi. I have NO desire to be, if not disowned, then forced into therapy that's going to make me revisit those dark places. I've been depressed before, it was NOT nice, and it would be a really effing bad idea to make me go back there.
They would do it, too. If they didn't outright kick me out of the house. My mom was sitting in the kitchen a while back watching some TV news blurb about Michael Jackson the Baby-Dangler, and she muttered under her breath that he looked like a "fag." Later on, when Ignatius was home from his date, she commented, "I'm just glad you're not gay."
Mm-hmm. I left the room both times before I could accidentally give myself away. If she only knew. I can only imagine how my dad would react. Violently, I suppose.
Labels: family, religion, Teh Gay
# posted by Liadan @ 6:31 PM 
