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I ask this because I have a unique experience. I am a man who *chose* to be heterosexual. Based on my experiences, and the experiences of others I know, I can definitely assert that homosexuality and heterosexuality are indeed choices we make.
See, my wife and I are both members of an ex-gay group; that’s how we met, in fact. I can’t tell you what a blessing from the Lord it is to have this woman in my life. I can only imagine what my life would have turned out to be had I not chosen to embrace my God-mandated heterosexuality.
I was always a man you would never have looked at and imagined to be anything but straight. During my teen years, however, Satan sent every temptation he could to try and ensnare me in the gay lifestyle. First, there was that sofa my mother bought; she had chosen a respectable rust coloured overstuffed one, but what was mistakenly delivered was one in rich corinthian leather. Almost immediately then the furniture store went out of business, so we were stuck with the sofa. The rich, musky smell of that leather put all sorts of polluted thoughts into my young mind.
It was about the same time that those Brawny Paper Towel commercials of the 80s started. With his “butch” clone look, I innocently thought Mr. Brawny all man, and emulated him. Frankie Goes To Hollywood was also riding high then, and all of this meant that I was on a one-way road to hell town! I was battling in my very soul, and I felt weak. It was 1984, I was a young man filled with hormones, and there was nothing on television but the lousy election coverage. I was fighting temptation to go to a gay bar and have my fill of lust. I tried to pray, and I asked God for a sign. Well, Satan must have intercepted my prayer, because, turning on the TV to try to find a Christian program, the screen instantly flashed on to Clara Peller, that little old lady from the Wendy’s commercials, saying “Where’s the beef?” I gave in to sin and went to the gay bar.
There followed years of immorality where I did terrible things, like wear a plaid kilt and leather vest, watch “Solid Gold” to get a glimpse of Andy Gibb’s hairy chest, and record old Match Game reruns featuring Charles Nelson Riley. That last one is a shame that will haunt me my entire life. Things got so low for me that I even got a nipple piercing. I still have the piercing, but today I only wear a crucifix in it.
I thank Jesus, though, for delivering me from all of that. I met Becky at the ex-gay meeting, and we determined to embrace our heterosexuality. My marriage to Becky is the most important thing in my life, and I am really saddened to see the march of same-sex marriage threaten the sanctity of it. My marriage is a precious gift from God, and I knew it from the moment I saw Becky at the meeting, all the way through to the next morning, when we wed.
Is it always easy? No, but Becky and I are vigilant. We have taken steps to heterosexualize our home. For instance, I am no longer allowed to wear Brut cologne, because of its slogan, “the smell of a man.” Becky helps me to keep a watch over things that might cause me to fall; for instance, she got our ex-gay group to intervene and talk me out of going in for that prostate exam that the doctor had scheduled for me. I can’t thank her enough for looking out for me. Becky, too, has to always be on the alert for anything that might lead her astray. She has taken to wearing makeup, except for lavender eyeshadow, of course, and she is no longer allowed to go to the Home Depot, wear birkenstocks, or eat sushi. Mammograms are out of the question for her, unless performed by a male doctor. We both made the decision to ban tofu from our home.
Our support group is excellent, and it provides the majority of our social life. Becky and the ladies get together to praise God and comb each other’s hair, and I get together with the men from the group to play tackle football and exercise to Richard Simmons videos. Once a month, Becky and I follow the Lord’s will, and I go into her bedroom so the two of us can make heterosexual love. Our faith in God gets us through this, plus the doctor’s script for Compazine really helps. Right now, Becky is pregnant with our little bundle of joy, and I know our home will be happy and complete when this child is born. I can’t imagine a child growing up in a more perfect home.
So there you have it. My wife and I have both chosen to be heterosexual, so it stands to reason that homosexuality is likewise a choice. Why do people insist on saying that it isn’t a choice, however? Do personal experiences count for nothing?
I thank Jesus every day for the happiness of the normal life that I now know
Edit: As usual, my postings go right over the heads of so many people, lol. Too bad that people don’t read the details.
Meds, you’re right, Paul Lynde would have been a better choice, and yes, I save this stuff; I originally posted this earlier this year. People didn’t get it then, either. lol