Debora Barr
“Sexual abuse created a web that led me to reject not only men and masculinity but even my own femininity.”
The eldest of four children, I grew up in a church-going family where both parents were present and available. In my early years, my love for God and church was integral to my life. But everything in my world was rocked, including the development of my sexual identity, when I turned 16. At that time, I had a boyfriend who wanted to take our relationship further by having sex. I wasn’t ready for that experience, so I confided in my mom, who I considered to be my best friend during those years. Not only was her response unseemly, but days later, I saw them together, inappropriately engaged in her bedroom. I felt devastated and betrayed, not only by my mom and my boyfriend but especially by Jesus. Shouldn’t God have done more to protect me? I asked. Feeling abandoned and alone, I rejected my faith and professed atheism. When my parents later divorced, my life further spiraled downward into alcohol abuse, depression, and self-hatred. I even attempted suicide.
After I left for college, the rest of my siblings moved with my father to Colorado. Separated from family, my connection with others became challenging. However, I bonded deeply with my college roommate, and our relationship became emotionally enmeshed, opening the door to future relationships with women that eventually turned sexual. Taking a job to help pay for college also proved perilous. My boss began grooming me for sex, asking me to wear certain things and to act in particular ways. Once, he tried to corner and rape me. In the same season, I was sexually molested by two older men. Their aggression made me fear my femininity, so I rejected anything that attracted men. I felt I needed to be unattractive and undesirable so they would leave me alone. These sexual abuses created a web that led me to reject men and masculinity and even my own femininity. Inadvertently, this attracted women, and because I didn’t feel safe among men, I began to identify with lesbianism. My same-sex attraction seemed to explain why I didn’t feel comfortable as a woman being pursued by men.
When I entered my first real relationship with a woman, I reexamined my life to try to piece together evidence to affirm the narrative I had heard for years: I was born gay. Because I felt conflicted about what I was doing, I wanted to justify these feelings, but I was also desperate for love. Feeling loved and special around my new girlfriend, I further defended my behavior. This is who I am, I told myself. As a result, I embraced same-sex sexual behavior for many years.
When I revived the faith of my childhood and began to follow Jesus truly, I revisited past hurts to forgive the perpetrators and to receive emotional healing from sexual abuse. I acknowledged my fractured self-image and connection with others, and I confronted my misperceptions about my own womanhood. By cultivating non-sexual, peer-to-peer friendships with women at church, I unraveled the insecurities that had shaped my adoption of lesbianism. Eventually, I developed confidence and security in my femininity, not in the labels I’d worn for 18 years. Consistent community, vulnerability, and prayer have helped restore my areas of emotional, spiritual, and relational brokenness. A refuge from sexual abuse, much of my same-sex sexual behavior was anchored in fear of my femininity. Addressing those traumas enabled me to move on from what was really a coping mechanism. Today, same-sex sexual feelings are no longer part of my life.