Hey. I figured since the person above shared his story that I would share mine.
Before this all began, I was raised in the church as a Nazarene. My mom never went to church, but she would let me spend the night at my grandmother's to go to church. When I was in the... 7th grade, I believe, I had decided I was gay; so for me it was a choice. To me, at the time, it just seemed to fit. I was so curious at first, wondering what to do about it, who should I come out to first, and so on and so forth. Years roll by and I end up moving to a new school. Immediatly I found friends who accepted me for who I was. I was far too afraid to tell anyone at church. All the time I considered myself gay I loved God and knew that He loved me, but I avoided thinking about how me being gay would effect my relationship with Him. Sometime during the 8th grade, I came out to my mom. She seemed okay with it, she sometimes still thinks I like guys like that, but she didn't talk or say much about it. It wasn't til the summer of freshman year that I went to a camp known as Rocky Creek (we just call it Super Camp). We had amazing and touch sermons. Practically everyone was at the alter or praying in their seats during alter call. So, on the night before we leave, I'm lookin at all the people crying and praying and I just feel this tug in my chest and my heart feels like... well, it's hard to describe, but I just get this feeling that I need to go down there and pray over my being gay. I had been having doubts about the okayness of being gay the time I was at camp. So I'm praying and praying and I'm just asking "Lord. What do You want for me? Who am I? What was I meant to be?" and I could feel deep down in my heart the Lord telling me that the path I was on was not the one he had made for me. I just started balling and asking for forgiveness over and over again. I just felt horrible for ignoring this all those long years and I just prayed and prayed until I was out of tears... and all I could do was smile. Like the world was lifted off my