CHAPTER V

The Bridge Back

Early on in the recovery process, during my first year of sobriety, I met another newcomer to the process who had gotten sober within a couple of weeks of the same day that I did, John H. John was an Irish cop, and a man I would have never thought I would want to get to know. Nevertheless, and to my great surprise, I felt strangely drawn to him. It was not a sexual attraction, for he was very straight and very much the image of Mickey Macho, things which had never held an attraction for me. I think part of it was that he was solidly behind a brick wall of isolation, just like me. There was something we had in common, something I could not put my finger on, but I knew it was definitely there. Before long we were going to meetings together several nights each week, and had begun to share on more than a peripheral surface level. As we begin to know each other more, I found myself doing something that terrified me all my life--I chose to risk trusting another man with my real feelings and my real history. Gradually John began to draw out of me all of the things I had longed to be able to share with somebody for years. The ability to trust which had been destroyed by my father when I was seven years old began to be restored. The more I trusted John the more he trusted me, and we both began to dismantle the brick wall of isolation, brick by brick, slowly and fearfully, but with determination. John became my bridge back to reality, my bridge back to humanity. I remember after we had known each other for about a year or so I revealed to John that I was gay and John revealed to me that he was a cop--both small details that we had carefully avoided mentioning to each other prior to that time. Not surprisingly, we both had figured out about the other long before the things we were then revealing. But that was the first time we had shared them openly.

 As the years passed I began to realize that I was learning for the first time in my life about what love really was--not sex, but love. John became my adopted Big Brother. He became the family I had never known. I no longer had to fantasize about what it would feel like to have a real, loving family. God had given me one--my Big Brother. I could and did share anything and everything. He became the only person in the world to know my whole story--the truth. To this day, there is no one in the world I love as I do John. Of all the lovers and sex partners I have had over the years, I have never known such a beautiful closeness and loving bondedness, such a feeling of loyalty and commitment as I have for John. He has been one of the major channels of healing for me for a very long time. He tells me the truth, no matter whether I like it or not and I know that it comes out of love for me. Big Brother can tell me things that, coming from anyone else, I would take as an offense, but not from John. John helped me to discover what it means to love honestly and openly, without fear. Everything I learned about love from my childhood was reversed--at least the process of reversal was begun. Today's confidence was never tomorrow's ammunition. John would never consciously hurt me for the world, and he never has. The loyalty is sure and trustworthy. John was never condescending and never preached to me. But he was and is always there for me when I really need love and support. He was and is the beautiful positive full color print which transformed itself out of the horribly ugly, black and white negative image of dad. Where dad only recognized me for my accomplishments and what I could do, John accepted and accepts me for who I am regardless of what I can or cannot do. It took years for me to realize what had happened, but now it is clear--John proves to me daily that all the things I learned about myself and about people who love me from dad are not true. All that was necessary to make a beginning start at becoming a real human being was one non-judgmental, accepting man with whom I was willing to take the risk to trust--and love.

Another thing that has become clear is that the bridge back for me had to be a straight man, not a gay man. With even the hint of sex present, all of my own incest issues would have immediately blocked any possibility of trust. My bridge back had to be in the form of a man who was accepting and non-judgmental, but at the same time absolutely straight. That was and is John. It is truly amazing to me that God has consistently put people into my life at the very point at which I needed them so that I could heal. Granted, I usually do not realize it at the time. Or rather, I never realize it when it occurs, but only after the fact. Even when it has been people confronting me in very painful, uncomfortable ways, it has been at the exact point at which I was ready to listen, like it or not, as when the Prior confronted me with the decision either to go to rehab or pack my bags. The following two pieces of poetic text sum up much of how I perceive the healing channel that is my relationship with John. Both were written within the last year prior to the composition of this autobiography:

INCARNATION

In the beginning was the Word

and the Word was with God

and the Word was God.

And the Word became flesh,

and looked into my eyes.

With strong arms and wise counsel

he enfolded me in safety.

When I was hungry

he fed me;

When I was sick

he nurtured me;

When I was afraid

he encouraged me;

When I was hurting

he comforted me;

When others pushed me out,

he invited me in;

When my faith faltered

he shared his faith with me;

When I could not pray,

he prayed in my stead.

Though in form and appearance

an ordinary man--

a strong jaw,

two penetrating eyes,

broad shoulders

and a strong back--

in reality a holy being,

created of God,

light from light,

true man from true God.

And I beheld his glory,

the glory as of a holy Son of God,

full of grace and truth.

THE BRIDGE BACK

As an outsider looking in,

safely hidden in shadows,

I stood apart and watched:

people living,

people sharing,

people loving,

while my soul was troubled,

afraid to go in, and grieving alone

in the shadows.

Afraid to let anyone in

to see what is inside,

afraid to be hurt

and left to my tears...

once again.

And so as an outsider looking in,

safely hidden in shadows,

I stood apart and watched.

Then you appeared in the shadows,

to join with me out of your own fear,

and take my hand and guide me

as a bridge back to humanity,

to people living,

people sharing

people loving,

as God's gift of healing.

No longer an outsider looking in,

but standing bathed in light,

I stand inside, hand in hand

with my big brother.

Realize, dear reader, that I cognitively know that my Big Brother is very, very human, complete with all the imperfections and flaws that characterize every homo sapien on the planet. I do know that he cannot always be there for me in all the ways I wish him to be. But that is not realistic, and it is not real love either. I love him as he is, including all the imperfections. In fact, I could not love him at all if he did not have all the same human flaws that I have. He would be yet another unapproachable paragon of holiness. I had enough of that years ago. For me love is accepting both my humanity and his. Love is a decision, not an emotion, for emotions are fickle. They are constantly changing. I made a decision to risk loving my Big Brother in spite of the fact that at times I may not feel particularly loving; in spite of the fact that he is not always feeling particularly loving; in spite of the fact that we both accidentally hurt each other from time to time. I made a decision to act in a loving way toward him however I happen to feel at the given moment. That decision is a commitment of loyalty. It is a decision to do the one thing I have feared the most throughout my life from the time I was seven years old--to allow myself to risk being loved by another human being. Love is not a matter of testosterone and progesterone. But it is a matter of making a choice and sticking to it, through thick and thin, no matter what. It is a choice I could only make as a free one--if it is not free, if it is compelled in any way, it is not a choice, but merely compliance. I freely chose to love. And, dear reader, love is the key to healing. It is only love that has the power to elevate my spirit to realize the potential within me given by God. It is only love that can animate the imago Dei within my very being. It is only through the power of love that I could discover that I do have a self that is not dependent on anything or anybody outside of me. The loving, bonded relationship that we share not only is the bridge back to humanity for me, but it is also the bridge back to God, although not the condescending, judging God of my childhood. Rather, it is the loving creator who gave me my being. To open the door, all it took was the key, and that one relationship was the key, and still is.