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Gaya

The month of June has been dedicated to the LGBTQ community as a means to feel comfortable, accepted, and protected. A month when they can celebrate who they are with every ounce of pride and not be discriminated but I’ve never felt that way even in my father’s house.

My name is Charles, and for as long as I can remember, I have always been attracted to men but where I come from it is still considered a taboo, an abomination, and being from a strong Christian family didn’t make it any better. I have never come out to my parents not just because I’m completely sure that they would disown me but also because being a pastor in the church was way more important than my sexuality. Plus knowing my parents, I would probably be taken for deliverance. This doesn’t mean that they don’t know or have never suspected, but they’ve decided to play it safe by not asking me any direct questions; to be sincere, I wish they would and maybe I’d have the confidence to open up.

Telling my story now, I realized that my first crush back in primary school was a boy, when all my mates were gushing over the most intelligent girl in class, I found myself thinking about the most intelligent boy in class. But I never fully understood what I felt, moving on to secondary around ss1, boys in my class started developing a thing for ss3 girls and I still couldn’t understand why I was drawn to a particular ss3 boy back then. I slowly realized that I might be different from my peers, I went through a serious phase of isolation and confusion, and I didn’t know who to run to for advice, and it also began to tell on my studies. For someone so brilliant I started failing in class and I think that was the only time my parents took me seriously but guess what? My parents took me for deliverance without bothering to ask me questions to understand what went wrong instead they both concluded that I was either possessed or that my father’s village people had decided to attack their only son. After that experience, I decided for myself that I would always keep my feelings intact and never let it affect my life.

I eventually graduated secondary school as a virgin if I may add because by ss3 most of my classmates already had bragging rights with the older women they had sex with but I didn’t let that get to me, I convinced myself that this wasn’t the time to be thinking about sex when I had JAMB, WAEC, and NECO to think about. I told myself the same thing in 100 level, “Sex isn’t important right now Charles, you just entered school you need to study even harder.”&nbsp; I neglected my feelings, urges, and sexuality; I just shoved them aside like it wasn’t part of me at least until 200 level when I went ballistic with sex. My sex-crazed phase started after I began having sexual dreams about a guy in my department, at first I thought it might have been a mistake but it became reoccurring and I just lost my cool. I questioned myself a lot, I questioned God,&nbsp; I hated myself, I didn’t understand why I was made this way, I was a good Christian, I never did enter that went against my religion, my parents were good Christians so why was I cursed with this fate?&nbsp;

To solve my problem, I drowned myself in sex and alcohol because I’d rather commit fornication than be gay, I’d rather have aimless sex than become an abomination. My first time was difficult because no matter how hard we both tried I couldn’t get an erection, I almost gave up but she insisted we drank alcohol to loosen up, and that did the trick. After that day, I drank myself to numbness just to have sex I kept trying to feel normal, to feel like a man but it was never enough, I kept blaming the girls, the environment, blaming everyone and everything except me. I got into my first relationship around my 400 level not because I was attracted to her don’t get me wrong she was beautiful, banging body but I still didn’t feel that spark or attraction. I liked her as a person, she was fun, easygoing, and nice. We dated for a couple of months before she bluntly asked me if I was attracted to men. I wanted to throw a fit, I remember trying to act angry because that was what a normal man would do but in all sincerity, I felt a sense of relief that someone had finally seen me.

She calmly explained that she sensed I was not attracted to her, I never initiated sex with her, I never seemed to enjoy sex with her neither had she caught me staring at other women nor flirting with them. And for the first time in forever, I was engulfed by the vulnerability that I cried so hard while talking to her. I opened up about everything beginning from my childhood to my parents, she listened to me with so much interest and understanding, and when she spoke there wasn’t a hint of pity, discrimination, or judgment. Till today she is still one of my closest friends.

After my conversation with her, I stopped the aimless sex, cleaned myself up, and worked on accepting and loving myself. I was very careful with the men I began to meet because to most Nigerians, homosexuality is like a disease and most of them would do anything to eradicate that disease. I met good partners who opened my eyes to love and made me embrace who I am. But my parents still chose to ignore me.

It's June, and I’m currently visiting my parents but I’ve been dreading it ever since because this was supposed to be my month, I am supposed to feel loved and cherished and safe this month, especially in my parent’s house but instead, I feel unseen, ignored, unwanted, not good enough. I know that they know, as a 29-year-old man, my mum has never made mention of a wife or grandkids, I tapped into my feminine energy years ago so my mode of dressing changed but they never complained, my mum has accidentally seen a picture of myself and a man I was dating, we were all cuddled up in a hotel but she never made mention of it.

And I can’t help but internally question their love for me; does their faith and religion matter more than their only child? Do moral ethics matter more? Do they truly consider me their child or are they still trying to paint the perfect family picture for their congregation? I watch other families on TikTok celebrating Pride Month with their children, telling them how much they still love them and I can’t help but wonder if I was born in the wrong country or into the wrong family. I truly despise the month that I’m supposed to love.

For context and protection, the identity of the actual individual has been concealed.

If my parents cannot accept me, how then am I supposed to believe that the world can? At this point the month I thought would be one of the best has turned into the worst.

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