(Author's note: All of these stories are intended for a very specific audience—lesbians who've had problems with religious beliefs, and their overwhelming desire to love another woman. The mental and emotional stress they have been subjected to, while wholly unnecessary and erroneous, still takes its toll on those so afflicted.
These stories were meant to reach lesbians, thus though they have much religious text in them, they would most likely not be seen by most lesbians if placed in the Essay category. Beside that, they all are set as stories, thus placement in the Lesbian category. If you still wish to read them, please keep these items in mind.
All citations are accurate within the bibles (King James Version and New Revised Standard Version, plus some from The Catholic Bible) they are taken from, and you are welcome to verify all of it. In fact, I hope you do verify it all as it will lead you, if you need it, to the truth of the lies we are told, and an understanding of how those lies are affecting so many, and in so many ways. Also, the historical evidence is also known as accurate, and you are welcome to verify that as well. Solo Veritas! Thank you.)
(Reading note: All of these stories are about lesbians who have had problems—great or small—with religion in their church and/or religious family, as well as how religion was being used to shame lesbians with much believed lies. The stories are best understood, and make more sense if read in sequence of submission, which is: The Devil's Gateway, parts 1 and 2; Fortune's Wiles, parts 1 and 2; Liv's Legacy: Anise; and finally, this one, Liv's Legacy: Paula, part 1 with part 2 to follow later. Thank you.)
Chapter 1
The night was pleasant, the breeze light, but I knew that later on, it would turn cold. By then, it wouldn't matter, it would be done, and I would have no more worries, nothing would be able to tear me apart any longer. Peace was starting to settle in on me, a quietude that I was loving to feel. It was incredible how swiftly and easily it was coming to me. Why couldn't it always be this way?
There was no other way for me, save this. It had to end, I couldn't continue to feel myself being torn apart as I was. I couldn't understand why it had to be this way. What had I done that was so wrong? Why couldn't I be as they all were, as they expected me to be. My whole life was a lie, and I could do nothing to salvage it other than to give it up. My misery would end, and my parents wouldn't have to face any shame.
They all seemed to be so happy in church, rather, so ecstatic. Were they truly feeling as they showed they were? Their hands raised in the air, their bodies swaying while most never left where they stood. Seeing it now in my mind, it seemed surreal, or maybe wholly unreal.
"Praise God! Praise the Lord! Yes, Jesus, yes!"
It was an eternal shouting, the preacher working himself and the congregation to a frenzy that bathed them in whatever light they said overcame them. Soon all the world would know what they knew, all would bow to Jesus.
I would gladly have bowed to Jesus, praised God as they did, and in fact, I did just that, but I didn't really feel as they did. I was a liar, a hypocrite, a phony, and I dared not admit it openly. It's not that I didn't want to feel as they all did, it was... I'm not sure what it was, but it was not in me. It wasn't.
For a long time, and sometimes it seemed interminable, the preacher belabored the sin of homosexuality. All of those who were homosexual would one day face God and be judged an abomination not worthy of him. They were the scourge of the earth, the cause of all of America's ills. All such would be condemned to the fires of hell. All homosexuals were the children of the devil, Satan's pawns, Satan's children send to deceive us, to lead the elect of the Lord down the wrong path. All homosexuals would be forever destroyed. And that was his mild preaching on homosexuality. Other times his words were vile, almost violent sounding.
We, our country, had strayed from his, God's, words, from his laws, from the Path of Righteousness that he had set for all his children to follow. Now we must repent for the end of times will come, and we know not when, but it will surely steal in the dark of night, and those of us who follow God's just ways, his laws, would be taken up, the others would be cast into the fiery pit. He would separate the lambs from the goats.
I was a goat!
And none knew it yet, but I did. All day and night I would hear words that said I was to be condemned. My parents believed that, they believed the church, and like all the others, they shouted in affirmation with the 'Amen's and 'Praise Jesus, Praise the Lord'. They believed that our country was forsaking God's ways, and we must remain pure, faithful to the end wherein we would receive our reward for our faith in Jesus who was our savior.
Why was I a goat? Why could I not love a man as I was supposed to? At my age, I had to select a man from those who were known to be God's servants, marry, and procreate as God said we should, and be faithful to his laws. My parents had given me the names of those that they thought were worthy and acceptable for they walked in God's light, in his ways. But how could I chose when it wasn't in my heart to want a man. Why couldn't I have a woman of my choosing if she wished it too?
No, I had no woman in mind, and none sought me as far as I knew. Fear kept me from even looking at another woman, from thinking of one, though my heart yearned to be with a woman. Why? Why couldn't I feel it within me to be with a man? Why was it that I could not imagine myself being with a man, of allowing him to kiss me, hold me as his own, or even not as his own, but just to go out with in the supervised way that was ours, and maybe kiss chastely? There were good men, men who were good as far as a man went, perhaps many, but it wasn't in me to do that, to want one.
I was an abomination before God, and soon they would all surely know it because I was of an age to where I was now a fully grown woman, and should be married. In truth, I should be married and raising a family already.
My parent's were kind, they were patient though I was slow in responding to let them know whom I would have so they could arrange it if possible. They did try to give me that latitude, and that was good of them. It was I that was not good, I who would soon bring shame on them and all because I couldn't find it in me to be with a man.
What had I done to be born this way? I knew of no other woman in our church that felt as I did. All married at the appropriate time, and all bore children as commanded by God that we were to do. Why was I not as they were? I couldn't say, I didn't know, I didn't intentionally choose to be as I know I am. It has worried me for years, and I have tried to reconcile myself, to change, to accept, but it is no use, and now I must end it.
It is such a beautiful night. The stars in the heavens are so wondrous to gaze upon, to wonder at the immense beauty of God's creation. The breeze caught me up, it flowed as if through my soul, whispered to me of what I was knowing, the beauty of what God made, what he offered to us. Why could I know the beauty of God's world? Was God teasing me? Was he saying to me to feel, sense, know of what he had to offer, and to repent of my ways, my wants of the ways of the world?
God, please forgive me, but it is in me, in my heart, my soul, my inner being to be like this, to desire companionship from a woman, and not from any man. Forgive me for being born as I was. Is there forgiveness for such as I? If I am not given to know otherwise, yes, I will end it, end being an abomination in your sight. That is not what I want to be, but I can not help it, can not help myself. Please, God, forgive me.
For far too many years now I had lived in two mental worlds, two emotional worlds, at the same time, and those two worlds were in continual conflict in me. My desire to be with a woman prodded me incessantly from some unknown place within me burdening my heart. My fear of the church and of God's displeasure and wrath made me shiver with my prospect of eternal hell. Desire and fear, and so incessantly constant. How had I lived with them both forever battling in my unknowing, confused person, driving me to despair, to feel desolate?
It wasn't only at night that the war raged in my mind and emotions, though that was when it was the worst. Many nights I had cried in anguish over my hopeless condition. But during the daytime too, I worried endlessly that someone would discover me as I truly wished to be, and expose me to one and all. There was no other way for me. This constant bickering between my two selves was more than I could bear.
Just before I knew I would have to enter my watery grave, I once again enjoyed the night air, how the breeze engulfed me like a lover's embrace, and seemed to want to hold me forever, maybe to cuddle with me in the joy of our precious love. Yes, my thoughts were silly, childish, but I yearned so.
Only a little bit more, then I would do as I must. I would walk in slowly, stop after a few steps and make sure my body was acclimated to the coolness of the water, then move further in until it was at my head. After a few more minutes, I would dive in fully and swim until I was too tired to swim any further. Then I would allow the inevitable to follow.
Closing my eyes, I looked within, sensed my peaceful resignation, my fate as it must be. So beautiful to feel the peace. So beautiful feeling it wash over and through me.
"Hi! A nice night, isn't it? Sorry, I don't mean to intrude, but I saw you, and, well, you looked so peaceful, I was drawn to stop and talk to you. May I," she said, and sat beside me.
Shocked that anyone would be anywhere near me, I instinctively tried to see her. I couldn't see her well for the night, but she was a young woman, perhaps mid-twenties, and had a very agreeable voice, one that nearly had me sighing at its feminine beauty. Maybe I thought that because she wasn't of the church, and I could day dream for a while.
