Our Stories
Learn from other men who have journeyed this road less traveled.
Transformed
Frank
Nothing of real value comes easy.
My mother’s relationship with my father was defined by constant strife over his alcoholism, gambling, and coming home late. My father was the “bad guy” in our household. We all took my mothers’ side. We were all triangulated into the relationship between her and my father. She was “safer,” because she was present and provided more comfort and attention than he. However, my mother always suffered from migraines, sudden mood swings, and other problems. I am sure raising five kids on her own took its toll on her emotionally and physically. My mother was both physically and emotionally abusive. She screamed and yelled a lot. She would leave all of us home by ourselves as she went out looking for her husband in bars. In her bursts of anger and frustration she beat us with coat hangers to settle fights and squabbles us kids had. There were no healthy boundaries set in our home. She could not handle us. And she hung on to an unhealthy relationship at all odds.
…the perfectly behaved young man…
I carried a lot of fear and shame.
There were volumes of literature on homosexuality. It was nurture versus nature, in a nutshell. But the truth was, my attractions to men were so strong, it didn’t matter what the research said. I determined that my sexual attraction had to be genetic since it was so strong. And it turned out that three of my siblings also had same-sex attraction. The genetic argument won.
I got my degree. My girlfriend and I went our separate ways. I could not deny my attractions to men. I was “free!” I began to act out and embrace the gay life style. The first two years I had many openly gay friends. A good time consisted of us going to West Hollywood, getting drunk, and picking up guys.
Over the next 10 years, I had two five-year relationships with gay men. The first was a “cheater,” and I thank God that I never contracted AIDS. I was totally sexually obsessed with this man, and it was a difficult thing to break off the relationship. The second was an awesome man. I love him to this day, but now in a deeper way, as a brother. We built a home down in Mexico. I had found what I was looking for!
There was still something missing in my life.
Homosexual behavior is a core identity and emotional issue.
I broke up with my boyfriend. It was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, but I could no longer deny that there was indeed something more for me to discover about myself.
I hate to read, but I had this insatiable hunger for the truth. I read Richard Cohen’s book, “Coming Out Straight.” I read “Battle for Normality” by Van Den Ardwig. I read Nicolosi’s books and countless articles. I could not stop seeking out the truth. Every book had my story in it. I became well versed in father wounds, mother wounds, triadic relationships, defensive detachment, and missing steps in core identity development. My homosexuality was just a symptom of profound and deep emotional arrest. It was indeed the tip of an iceberg. I began therapy with a NARTH therapist, and have never looked back since.
These last years I have involved myself in deep emotional healing with the support of many wonderful men who choose not to embrace homosexual feelings. Most importantly, I have other men in my life now who are not same-sex attracted. Both of these groups of men are my brothers. They are my fathers. They are my peers. They are my connection to the world of men to which I belong and had not been a part of before. Many of these men are my Journey into Manhood brothers. They helped to initiate me into a more authentic manhood. With this healthy connection to men, I have learned what men do, how they act, feel, and express themselves.
Gone are the manic energies I used to have.
I have started an SSA healing ministry at my church. I serve as a volunteer staff member on Journey into Manhood and other weekends. I helped create a local support group for same-sex attracted men seeking change.
So, when do I stop? My answer is never. This work is food for my soul.
—Frank, 2000