Emily’S story
Conversion therapy made me fear other LGBT people
I grew up attending church – my family and I were heavily involved my whole life. When I was 18, I came out as gay to a pastor at the church. We both held conservative views around homosexuality. From my side, this was because I hadn't heard anything positive about LGBT people. As you might imagine, I was frightened about what my sexuality meant for my future. The pastor and I spoke regularly about my sexuality – he and one friend were the only people I was out to. This meant that my pastor had a huge influence on me, and I trusted him completely. These discussions lasted for a year before I moved away for university.
I was frightened about what my sexuality meant for my future.
In our discussions, the pastor suggested that perhaps I was gay because something bad had happened to me. Perhaps it was a problem with my relationship with my parents, or a traumatic childhood event. He suggested that I had let myself become ‘too much of the world’ and so I had started to believe it was okay to be gay. He said I needed to pray more. He also suggested that the more I thought about it, the less likely ‘change’ (by which he meant becoming straight) was to happen. He said that he knew of someone else who had ‘changed’, but that there were people who had ‘gone too far’ in accepting their sexuality and there was no hope of change for them.
My experiences with him weren’t entirely bad – there were also helpful things he suggested. He suggested I come out to my parents, and said that the church had idealised marriage, which made it hard for single people. He did also say, at times, that there was nothing wrong with being gay, it was just acting on it that was wrong. When I kissed a girl, I was asked to take a break from the church for a few days and had some leadership responsibilities removed from me.
During the year I had conversion therapy, I started to self-harm and became very depressed. The pastor was aware of this. He was concerned, but we continued our conversations and he continued with the idea that change was possible, and the ideal. Celibacy was the other acceptable route I could take if change didn't happen.
I’ve also found it difficult to become part of the LGBT community, since I was taught to fear LGBT people.
After leaving for university, it felt very hard to manage without his ‘support’. He had taught me to be afraid of the secular world and even of Christians with more liberal views. I’ve also found it difficult to become part of the LGBT community, since I was taught to fear LGBT people. Dating has been impossible at times – sometimes I have felt physically sick when starting a relationship because the feelings of ‘I shouldn't be here’ come back so strongly.
It took six or so years before I realised that what had happened to me was conversion therapy, and that it was wrong. I’ve now theologically reconciled my faith and sexuality, but being allowed to belong fully in Christian spaces and overcoming my own fears of being there is still a challenge. My pastor’s attempts at therapy might have appeared innocuous, and he may have truly believed he was doing the right thing, but his actions caused me a great deal of harm.
Today, I know that I didn’t need to change, and this should never have been the goal of our conversations. All LGBT+ people should be supported to be their true selves, in every part of their lives. But without a legislative ban on conversion therapy in the UK, I worry that this will never be a reality for people like me.
Emily’s name has been changed.
Take action to ban conversion therapy.
If you have been a victim of so-called conversion therapies, or are worried you’re at risk, please give the National Conversion Therapy Helpline a call or email.
Galop's expert LGBT+ team are here to support.
The National Conversion Therapy Helpline is open 10:00-16:00, Monday to Friday on 0800 130 3335, or you can email CThelp@galop.org.uk.