Paula here: Don’t bury your homosexuality or non-binary gender! Vicky Beeching, a powerful Christian song writer hid her lesbianism to the world. It was a long and lonely journey and it took a toll on her mental, spiritual and physical body. Many gay and lesbian individuals are trying to reconcile their sexual orientation with a religion that they follow. Vicki Beeching had a large following of fans in the USA that bought her Christian records and have now abandoned her, many sending hateful comments. The World Psychiatric Association,( a scientific body with nearly 200 member nations,) wrote a declaration in March 2016 to the United Nations and World Leaders. It declared that homosexuality cannot be reversed/changed and is therefore NOT a choice. Here is the story of Vicky Beeching and her struggle to hide her homosexuality from her family, friends and the world. Do NOT follow in the steps of Vicky and she would tell you the same advice. Be proud of your sexuality. Homosexuality may be illegal in 79 countries but that is not your fault or doing. Most of this illegality is based on century old scriptural laws and Leviticus in question was written 3,500 years ago when starting a fire was done with rubbing two sticks or flints together. Be proud of who you are and know that homosexuality has been in existence since the Dawn of Civilization and it is found in every country and culture. You are NOT alone. As Shakespeare wrote:
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell, my blessing season this in thee!
I have shorted the article taken from the Independent newspaper. You can read the longer version on http://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/news/vicky-beeching-star-of-the-christian-rock-scene-im-gay-god-loves-me-just-the-way-i-am-9667566.html
Excerpts from the Independent Newspaper.
As a little girl, Vicky Beeching soon became aware of the attitudes towards homosexuality surrounding her. She learnt of them in Sunday school. “It was in children’s picture books about the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah – hailstones of fire raining down on these cities known for the ‘abomination’ of homosexuality. It was viewed as a terrible evil, the cause of the floods. I don’t think that my parents brought it up – it was just a given.”
The secrecy, the loneliness, the unerring work at churches hell-bent on attacking her own, erupted the following year. Her body started attacking itself.
“I was blow-drying my hair and looked in the mirror and noticed this white line down my forehead.” The scar grew and became “really noticeable – inflamed and red”. The day she handed in the master tapes for what was to be her last album, she went to the doctor’s, expecting to be handed some E45 cream.
“They said, ‘You need to sit down. This is really serious. It’s an auto-immune disease called linear scleroderma morphea, and a form of the disease called coup de sabre.’ It’s a degenerative condition where soft tissue turns to scarring. At that point they didn’t know if it was just localised or whether it would affect my whole body.” In the worst cases, one’s whole body can turn to scar tissue, including internal organs. It can cause epilepsy, blackouts, and can kill.
Beeching was told she would need extensive chemotherapy and to expect hair loss, weight gain and exhaustion. She went home to her apartment where she lived alone, and looked up pictures online of sufferers, many of whom lose parts of their face.
“I vomited,” she says. She flew home as soon as she could. “The doctor here said, ‘In our experience there will always be one thing you can name that is a point of stress, of deep trauma in your life, that triggers this.’ For me there was no question: it was the stress of my sexuality.” In hospital a few weeks later, Beeching made a vow.
“I looked at my arm with the chemotherapy needle poking out, I looked at my life, and thought, ‘I have to come to terms with who I am.'” She gave herself a goal: to come out by the time she was 35.
“Thirty-five is half a life,” she says, sadly. “I can’t lose the other half. I’ve lost so much living as a shadow of a person.”
Beeching had 18 months of gruelling chemotherapy. The exhaustion was so acute that she was forced not to work, and instead, to think, to feel, to gradually accept her sexuality. She has never had a relationship. She didn’t meet an out gay person until she was 30. In recovery, Beeching went to visit Ruth Hunt, chief executive of Stonewall, who put her in touch with some out lesbians: the BBC newsreader Jane Hill, sports presenter Clare Balding and her wife, Alice Arnold, the former Radio 4 newsreader. “They said, ‘Be yourself and everything will follow.'”
One hopes it is that simple. Before we meet, I hear Beeching is being lined up to be one of the new presenters on Songs of Praise. She refuses to comment either way, instead replying simply that it would be a “dream job”.
At Easter this year, she came out to her parents. “I was terrified but they reacted really well. They said, ‘We’re so sorry that you had to go through this alone.'”
Beeching and her parents have agreed to disagree on the theology around homosexuality. “It’s a picture of what is possible, even when you don’t agree, that love can supersede everything.” She hopes the Church of England can one day follow suit.
“What Jesus taught was a radical message of welcome and inclusion and love. I feel certain God loves me just the way I am, and I have a huge sense of calling to communicate that to young people. When I think of myself at 13, sobbing into that carpet, I just want to help anyone in that situation to not have to go through what I did, to show that instead, you can be yourself – a person of integrity.”
After what Beeching has suffered, why not discard the faith that considers her sinful and wrong?
“It is heartbreaking,” she says, her eyes glimmering again. “The Church’s teaching was the reason that I lived in so much shame and isolation and pain for all those years. But rather than abandon it and say it’s broken, I want to be part of the change.”
As Beeching jumps into a waiting taxi, I think of all the young gay Christians who have spoken out over the years, who’ve told of their loneliness, their depression, the “cures” they sought, the suicides they attempted, and all who might hear Beeching’s story and feel less alone, and I whisper under my breath, for them, two words: thank you.