"Thou hast decreed, and it is so, Lord, – that the disordered mind should be its own punishment." – St. Augustine My sordid past, well – it’s confessed and forgiven. I have dealt with the memories of my dysfunctional childhood; Christ healed them. So much pain had built up inside me, that eventually it had nowhere to go, as a result I tried to push it down before everything came spilling out. By the time I was 18, I tried to forget the pain and figured that the whole thing would make sense when I finally admitted that I was gay – it didn’t. Now, those motives and the blind walking about with my hands in front of me – that found a naive kid stumbling into the gay capital of the world – have been revealed and resolved. My sexual attractions to men have become minimal. I struggle less. Nevertheless, I am haunted. Not by any residual reverberations of something I did – I am haunted by the dead. Yet, these are not literal specters, but the unshakable impressions that long departed friends left upon me. Sometimes, I will hear a song that we both liked, or I will unintentionally drive by the place we met, or I’ll inadvertently come across an old photograph of us together. Hating them all for leaving me, without thinking, I tear it up and throw the pieces in the trash; only, five minutes later, I am dumping everything out of the wastepaper basket onto the floor and haplessly trying to find every last fragment. At these moments, I can’t stop crying.
I always believed that no matter how far a person falls in whatever field of sin, God is always ready to forgive him, and we should not condemn if we hope to likewise receive God's mercy for our sins before it's too late. But reading Sciambra's book enlarged my compassion and understanding for men with same-sex attraction. His detailed stories are frankly gross and nearly unthinkable, but they illustrate how devastating sin can be to a person, and they make Sciambra's salvation all that much more glorious. God is merciful indeed, and Jesus is to be praised for it.
A critical look into the mind of a sad, repressed homosexual man. This person spent ten years in the worst, most exploitative part of gay culture possible (The Porn industry) and after leaving, has over compensated for it by repressing his homosexuality and inviting a zealous, fringe form of Catholicism into his life. The book is worthless except for getting the profile of this very sad individual, who we should feel sorry for. Ironically enough the same Catholic Church the author belongs to has denied that gay people can change their sexualities. Aside from that, all the evidence the book has is quote-mining that could be easily addressed by any psychologist. At least he’s figured out a way to make a quick buck off the few Christians today who still believe conversion therapy works. Also, this guy has said in the past that he thinks the devil comes out of your anus when you have anal sex lmao.
Although this book is in desperate need of editing, its message needs to be shouted from the rooftops: homosexual men are not born that way; rather, they suffer from broken/nonexistent relationships with their fathers. There is hope for these hurting and misunderstood men.
The author Joseph Sciambra spent a decade completely immersed in the gay male culture in San Francisco during the height of the AIDS crisis. He chronicles in great (and horrifyingly graphic) detail what this looks like and what it does to these men. He discusses not only the root causes, but also contributing societal factors. It is a fascinating and heartbreaking read. Sciambra effectively tells the truth about homosexuality, instead of allowing political correctness to silence him.