In 1981, before I graduated High School, I made friends with a young Witness whose father was an elder. He and I got along great so I decided one day to confide in him about the struggle raging inside of me. I did not want to be gay; I wanted to be a Jehovah's Witness and thought, with this young man's help, I could overcome my sexuality and become a loyal, faithful Witness just as he was.
Instead of keeping my confidence and helping me through the rough spots, he told his father about me. This led to a confrontation with the elders that would alter the course of my life forever.
The "presiding overseer" of the congregation back then was the husband of the woman who'd studied the Bible with my godmother, and the children's book with me at age 10.
When I was about 15, I decided to keep a diary describing in detail the struggle between my spiritual side and my carnal side, in very explicit language. I kept this diary hidden, but my godmother found it after snooping through my desk (she later lied about where she'd found it, but by then the damage was done). It was then that she and the whole family discovered that I was queer. My whole family was made to read my diary while I was punished by being forced to do squats for hours (that was her favorite punishment, deep knee bends for hours on end). Not long afterward, she took me to see the aforementioned elder to see if he could "fix" me.
I still remember a few details about that discussion, particularly his question to her, "Have you ever discouraged Tim from reading the Bible and the Watchtower?" In an outright, blatant lie, she responded, "No, I've encouraged him to do so." This after she'd thrown out all my literature and my Bible in the dump, which I'd retrieved in the middle of the night. She lied, and he believed her "hook, line and sinker." I don't remember much more of that particular conversation; I could thnk about is how she'd lied and the elder believed her every word. That was wrong, but several years later, after my previously-mentioned friend had told his father about me, it got much worse.
I'd been attending meetings pretty regularly during the first half of 1981 and had made some good friends. I remember one family in particular; they'd invite me over pretty regularly and we'd have hours-long dicussions about the Bible. I was very knowledgeable by then and could talk about Bible prophesies on a level most could not. I felt very at-home with them and everything was fine for a while. At some point, they asked me why I wasn't baptized yet and all I could tell them was that I was working through some stuff and hoped to be baptized in the near future.
One day at the Kingdom Hall, the husband asked the presiding overseer what it was that was holding me back. Instead of keeping my confidence, the elder told them that I was a homosexual and might not be good association! That's when I discovered that my young friend, to whom I'd confided my struggle, had told his dad, and subsequently would have little to do with me. After the next meeting, I confronted the elder who'd betrayed my trust. He, my "friend's" father and myself met in a room at the Hall and he proceeded to tell me, "We've been watching you. We've seen you passing notes around [a complete, blatant lie]. We could 'mark' you as bad association but we haven't yet." At that, I lost control. I accused him of betrayal, reminded him of the conversation a few years earlier with my godmother, when he completely ignored me and believed everything my godmother'd told him. I remember crying profusely and being completely devasted. These were people who were supposed to help me overcome my weaknesses and become a loyal, faithful Witness of Jehovah; instead they falsely accused me of wrongdoing and threatened to mark me in the congregation as unfit for association.
I left the Kingdom Hall that day utterely distraught...and remained gone for the next four years. I wanted nothing to do with the Witnesses at that point, so when I had the chance to move away from home, the first place I moved to was a house with two other gay guys.
It was then that I came fully out of the closet and fearlessly embraced my homosexuality with a fervor. I discovered the gay scene in Washington, D.C. and the rest, as they say, is history. For the next four years I was myself, someone with self-respect and dignity, and I had a blast!
During that time, circumstances led me to Denver, CO in 1984. I was homeless for the first three or four months, then got injured on a day-labor job. That winter, 1984/85, I found myself in a flea-bitten hotel in downtown Denver (thanks to assistance from Welfare; this was apparently the best they could do for me). Something snapped one day and made me realize that my life had taken a turn for the worse; I needed hope, and friends, so, on a cold, snowy Sunday I found the local Kingdom Hall and walked over a mile through the snow to get there.
Thus began the roller-coaster ride that would define my life for the next 30 years or so.
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