This is the eleventh voice to speak out in Orthodoxy in Dialogue’s Fifty Years after Stonewall: A Virtual Listening Tour. We urge our readers to forward the articles in this series to their diocesan bishops and parish priests. We beg our hierarchy and clergy to listen, attentively, reflectively, and prayerfully.
The deadline to write for this specific series is tomorrow, June 30. We ensure complete anonymity if you wish to add your voice.

To the Bishops of the Orthodox Church:
I don’t really expect to be “heard” when I write this. I’m not sure it will even be read. Yet, I still feel there’s some value in putting it out there.
I’ve known I was gay for longer than I’ve known what sex is, longer than I understood what this “difference” that I’d always felt was. By 11, I knew what it meant, though.
It meant God hated me and I would always be alone and never matter to anyone.
I carried that into puberty, in shame and fear and desperate longing. Around 13 I spent hours one night begging God to kill me. I have rarely cried so hard or so deeply. As I fell into exhausted sleep I prayed, “Kill me or change me. I can’t stand this.” Read More




