By Christian de la Huerta
Part of me would be fascinated to know what makes me gay. My earliest sexual fantasies—even before I knew what sex was—were always about men. Interestingly, my earliest romantic fantasies—those involving kissing and holding hands — were about women. The heterosexist cultural conditioning had already begun.
Though we may never know for sure, I suspect that gayness is due to a combination of genetic and environmental factors. Ultimately, however, does it really matter? Nature or nurture, genetics or the environment, choice or not, so what? The reality is that we are here, that we always have been here, and that, most likely, we always will be here.
Knowing what makes us gay might be interesting and may help take the discussion out of religious and moral arenas, but it won’t change who we are or the fact that we exist. Clearly, evolution, in its mysterious and inexorable wisdom, would have long ago handled the situation if gay folk did not serve some kind of purpose. It may be more useful, then, to ask: what are we going to do with the reality of our existence? If, in fact, we serve a purpose, what might that be? What contributions do we make?
Regardless of what they called themselves or whether they self-identified in a particular way, there is substantial evidence that throughout our short tenancy on this planet a certain percentage of humans have expressed their sexual desire and explored their sexual passion with others of the same sex. Furthermore, in contrast to what ex-gay ad campaigns would have us believe, far from needing to “recover” from homosexuality in order to have spiritual grace, it appears that throughout history and across different cultures gay people have not only been spiritually inclined but have actually been respected and revered for assuming roles of spiritual leadership. Many enact those same roles today. Among them are mediators, scouts of consciousness, keepers of beauty, healers, teachers, caregivers, sacred clowns, shamans, and priests. Of course, we don’t have an exclusive on these; heteros have embodied them beautifully and continue to do so. Yet these are roles to which we have gravitated, for which we have exhibited a propensity, and which we have fulfilled in disproportionate numbers.
Our outsider status accounts for a sense of perspective—our ability to see the forest and the trees. Because we stand outside the mainstream, we are not as rigidly bound by its rules. Although to some this may be stressful and a cause of much pain, loneliness, and alienation, it also creates the opportunity to live by our own rules—certainly a more honest process than the blind acceptance of old and tired rules, handed down by generations that were less informed and for whom external morality was perhaps more appropriate.
While I suspect that sexuality is much too complex a phenomenon to be limited to or caused by any one factor, the question still arises about the risks inherent in discovering a “gay gene” responsible for sexual orientation. How many parents would choose to abort or somehow genetically alter their unborn gay children, if that ever became possible?
Some people still desire to change their sexual orientation. No wonder; we still live in a world that largely discriminates against sexual minorities, where one’s sexual orientation can harshly impact one’s livelihood, living situation, and even life.
Undoubtedly, countless people have suppressed their sexual feelings, with varying degrees of success and failure, throughout history. Modifying or suppressing sexual behavior is one thing; changing a person’s fundamental orientation is quite another.
After I came out to my father, a Catholic psychiatrist, he kindly reassured me that I would always be his son and he would always love me. He then put on his “shrink” cap and proceeded to advise that I choose another lifestyle. With very good intentions, I have no doubt, he said that it was a very difficult lifestyle, that he knew because he had treated many homosexuals, even “curing” some.
What my father didn’t know, however, is that I slept with at least two of those he “cured,” post-cure. I know because after we did our thing, they asked if I was related to so-and-so. When I answered that he was my father, they said, “Oh, I used to go to him.”
Sexuality, like everything else, including matter, is a form of energy. Though it can be transmuted, energy cannot be destroyed. What is suppressed here will inevitably surface there. The problem with sexual suppression is that when it re-emerges elsewhere, too often it does so in very unhealthy and ugly forms.
Repressing such an intrinsic part of myself was no longer an option for me. It’s been a very long and arduous journey, but I have come to such a profound place of acceptance that I actually live in a state of gratitude for being gay.
I look forward to the day when sexual orientation will be a nonissue; when GLBT people will be respected for who we are and the contributions we bring to the world. In such a world, the possibility of eliminating us—whether by genetic alterations, burning, or gas chambers—would be unthinkable. More and more people are beginning to realize that we add value to our collective human existence. And given the desperate state of our world, we need all the help we can get.
Being gay is an advantage. It is a gift, a blessing, a privilege. In many ways it frees us up to discover who we really are and who we are goes way beyond our sexual practices or who we tend to have romantic and emotional connections with.
Had there been a way to alter my sexual orientation when I was growing up and barely surviving the long existential depression of my adolescence, what would I have done? I don’t know, but now, the answer is clear. To even consider the possibility of changing is ludicrous to me.
I still experience self-consciousness in certain situations. Recently at a national park the guy I was with reached out and held my hand while a group of tourists was approaching. I felt tension. I felt fear. I pulled my hand away.
But would I change? Not a chance! I love being gay. I love the sense of perspective, the freedom from societal rules, the generally more fun and open outlook on life. Most of all, I love being who and what I am.
Christian de la Huerta will be leading a Gay Men?s Retreat January 27-29. Click for further info.