This week, I tell a friend I’d love to chat but actually I have to run Yom Kippur services are starting soon and I’ve got to repent for my sins before the gates are closed. She laughs. “Well, you’re gay, so you’ve definitely got a lot of repenting to do.” It’s a joke, I know, but I still tell her don’t worry. My God is compatible with my queerness. I tell her my love is not my sin, but my tongue stumbles on the words because they ooze out from the pit of my rotten belly. Lies.
You see, the only girl I’ve ever loved boiled my God into mud and told me it was medicine, made mockery of...Read More
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