By Cindy Mahan

I grew up in a loving Christian family with an older and younger sister and two loving parents.  Growing up, I knew I was loved by my family, but as far back as I can remember I heard the story.  It went like this, Cindy was supposed to be a boy.  The name, Donald Jr.,  had already been picked out and everyone was anxiously awaiting the son to carry on the Mahan name.  This was extremely important to my Grandfather.  Of course, when I came I wasn’t the boy everyone had been expecting.  My mother had suggested to call me Donna after my dad, but my dad wouldn’t allow it, stating, it might make me think they wanted a son.  This was heard from my mother, grandparents, aunts and uncles.  My dad, however, never said anything about me being a mistake of gender.

In my mind, I perceived my family (immediate and extended) wasn’t pleased with me since I was a girl.  I have spent my entire life of forty seven years trying to get acceptance.  I have always been an overachiever just to hear the words, “you did good” or to receive the wonderful pat on the back.  I did get the affirmations as I excelled in school, athletics, at work and when I received my mechanical engineering degree graduating with highest distinction.  I have heard the ‘atta boy’ from my mother, sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles, bosses, coworkers, classmates but I can not ever recall hearing it from my dad.

During my childhood years, I was always the one helping my dad do his jobs around the house.  I was there handing him the tools, holding the flashlight or fetching something when he needed it, trying to be the son he had wanted.  Indeed I was a tomboy.  We went fishing together and pitched softball together but I never got the pat on the back from him.  I thought we were close.  In junior high, my dad went into full time ministry as a preacher and our times together ceased as he was gone in the evenings a lot.  The next couple of years was turmoil and rebellion for me.

At the age of 16 I entered into a life of homosexuality with a 24 year old woman.  On my 18th birthday, I moved out to live with what I thought was the love of my life.  But the relationship was over by age 20.  At age 25, I got involved with a woman my age and for the next 21 years we were together through good times and bad times.  The best of friends, the perfect couple and in love.  Our relationship was better than most heterosexual relationships.  So it was a great shock to everyone including me when I ended the relationship nine months ago for religious reasons.  I wanted both of us to go to heaven.  We had started going to church about five years ago.  This was something I told her I would never do, but she talked me into it.  So for three and a half years I fought with God over my homosexuality and he finally won.  Praise God!