What I was a Baptist boy, I used to think it was that simple too. I loved my friends at church, I loved my Sunday school teachers. I loved playing volleyball and tetherball after church when we had fellowship. I loved the bonfires. I wouldn't have put it this way then, but I realize now what I loved was the community.

Then, when I was almost 12 years old, I sat in a pew listening to the preacher condemn homosexuals. (With very harsh, hateful language.) I realized in a sudden epiphany that he was talking about me. Suddenly, the feelings I'd been experiencing as I went through puberty made sense. I got it. I was a homosexual.

I had to rush out of the pew and run back to the men's room, where I lost my breakfast.

I spent many years hating myself, and I almost killed myself.

Now, when I think about church, I don't remember the fun, the good times, the camaraderie, or the community. Instead, I remember learning that I was the scapegoat, that I was evil, that I was disgusting.

Queer kids in general get that from Christianity, especially from conservative Christian churches like Baptist churches.

I'm glad you saw what was going on and pulled your son out of that toxic mess. He deserves better than that. He deserves to learn true empathy and respect, which is something Christians truly hate, I think. Or that's what my life has led me to believe.