Joe Dallas - Desires in Conflict: Hope for Men Who Struggle with Sexual Identity

HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS

EUGENE, OREGON

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DESIRES IN CONFLICT

Copyright 1991 by Joe Dallas [revised 2003]

Published by Harvest House Publishers

Eugene, Oregon 97402

www.harvesthousepublishers.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Dallas, Joe, 1954-

Desires in conflict / Joe Dallas.

Includes bibliographical references.

ISBN 978-0-7369-1211-2

ISBN 978-0-7369-6034-2 (eBook)

1. HomosexualityReligious aspectsChristianity. 2. GaysPastoral counseling of. I. Title.

BR115.H6D35 1991

261.8'35766dc20

91-10270

CIP

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For my beautiful Renee, who never stops believing.

Contents

A person can see where theyve messed up in their life, and they can change the way they do things. So maybe my nature does draw me to you. That doesnt mean I have to go with it. I can say yes to some things and no to other things that are gonna ruin everything. I can do that. Otherwise, you know, what good is this life that God gave us?

FROM THE A CADEMY A WARD-WINNING FILM M OONSTRUCK

During a quiet January evening in 1984, the conflict between my sexual and spiritual desires finally reached its peak. It had to be faced, and decisions had to be made.

I was 29 years old by then, feeling at least 50, and realizing that I had already lived three distinct and irreconcilable lives: a wildly promiscuous kid, a rigidly pious young minister, then a compromised adult who had triedand failedto mix Christianity with sexual sin, hoping against hope it would all work out.

The promiscuous kid was shaped by events that were mostly out of my control, at least in the beginning. I did not ask to be born sensitive, for example. But there I was: a shy, towheaded loner who felt every slight or insult a hundred times more deeply (or so it seemed) than other boys. I cried easily, which never helps a guys social standing, and was awkward in groups. So I created a safe world of books, daydreams, bike riding, and long solitary walks.

Less safe was the real world I was avoiding: two older brothers who seemed light-years ahead of me in confidence, a highly driven dad who made it clear I wasnt exactly every fathers dream son, and a strong belief that I was unacceptable, stupid, weak and, above all, very, very different. I have never pinpointed the source of that belief. I know neither my parents nor brothers really wanted me to think so little of myself. But by the time I reached my eighth birthday, I was certain the reject stamp on my forehead could be read from a 20-yard distance.

That was the year1962, my eighth onewhen my mother, having heard of pedophiles hanging around our downtown area, warned me to never go to certain theaters where these men were rumored to be. There are men at those places wholl want you, she stressed. So never, never go into that part of town alone.

Assuming that wanted meant liked or cared for, I couldnt imagine what Moms fears were about. So even as I promised never to go there, I began plotting how and when I would. Nothing sounded better to me than the thought of being wanted by a man.

That Saturday I rode my bike to the area I had promised to avoid. Mom had named a few downtown theaters that were considered dangerous. I located one of thema legitimate but run-down movie housestashed my bike, bought a ticket, and stepped into the lobby.

I lounged around there, munching candy and waiting for the movie to start, not sure what, if anything, was supposed to happen. Several other people were milling about as it got closer to show time, all looking pretty normal: couples, parents with kids, a few loners like myself. Not a sinister-looking character in the bunch. For all intents, the place was a typical theater showing a two-part matinee. Just as I was deciding Mom had worried about nothing, I noticed a middle-aged, friendly looking man striding toward me. Smiling.

What strikes me to this day is how normal it all seemed. I was standing by a movie poster when he approached. He asked if I had seen the film yet, what sort of movies I liked, and how many times a week my parents let me go to the theater. If he was sizing me up, I sure couldnt tell. All I knew was that a nice man was interested in me. In me! And I drank it up like a thirsty puppy.

I didnt want sex. I had no idea, in fact, sex existed, much less what it was like. But Im sure, after 15 minutes of conversation with this genial guy who so obviously liked me, everything in my eyes and attitude was saying, Whatever you want, as long as you keep liking me, Im game.

He asked if I needed to use the bathroom before the movie started. I said yes, walked into the mens room, and found a stall.

He followed. Then he put a warning finger to his lips, looked over his shoulder, stepped inside, and locked the door.

When it was over, he told me two things that would impact my thinking for the next 21 years. Youre good at this, he said over and over. Youre really good. And he told me he had friends.

Molestation doesnt necessarily cause adult homosexuality, and many homosexuals have never been violated. But molestation does cause, in all cases, confusion. And confusion would become my theme as, over the next two years, I accepted money, gifts, and affection in exchange for sexual favors to this group of seven or eight men who had a virtual harem of kids at their disposal. It stopped when I grew older and less compliant, and I never told a soul until my teen years. But I had been awakened sexually and looked for outlets wherever I could find them. Playboy magazine became a primary source as I noticed my fantasies about the female body were growing as I reached puberty. A local liquor store kept the magazines in a rack easy enough to steal from. I developed a habit of snatching the porn, using it almost daily, and withdrawing even more into the dark magic of sexual fantasy.

When I entered junior high, I tried acting those fantasies out on any girl who seemed willing. There were a few, and we experimented to whatever lengths they would allow. So by the time I reached ninth grade, I had had many partners. By the time I reached high school, I had begun seeing adult men for sexual encounters as well.