A JOURNEY ‘BEYOND GAY’

By James Parker

www.virtueonline.org

May 8, 2026

NEWS: In light of recent revelations regarding Sam Allberry. British-born pastor, author and apologist, who was “disqualified from gospel ministry" following information about a past relationship with another man, VOL believes that stories of healed homosexuals need to be told. These are men and women who have renounced their past homosexual lives, and now believe that God has restored them to full heterosexuality. Their stories would never make MSM.

This is the story of James Parker.

I grew up believing myself to have been born gay. Why should I think otherwise? I had always, and only, experienced the most powerful, all‑consuming erotic attraction toward my own sex. I was unquestionably 110 percent same‑sex attracted — an exclusively homosexual male with no heterosexual desires whatsoever.

My teenage years were hell. I often thought of suicide, occasionally self‑harmed, and had a growing problem with alcohol by age sixteen. Living in a rural mining community, I listened repeatedly to Bronski Beat’s Small Town Boy, convinced I would never be accepted as a gay man. Watching an older male cousin — who later died of a drug overdose — struggle to find his place as a gay man in the late seventies and early eighties only deepened my fears. It was no surprise that when I finally came out to my parents at seventeen, I broke down in tears. My parents were amazing. They said they had known I was gay and affirmed their unconditional love. My schoolmates said the same and honored me for coming out. Overnight, the fears I had carried for years subsided, and I felt an inner freedom I had never known.

At eighteen, I moved from the North of England to London and fully embraced my gay identity. I became the first openly gay student in my university college and helped establish a lesbian and gay group. I served the gay community wholeheartedly and preached its messages, especially against Christian institutions that suggested being gay was a choice or wrong. This was not just activism — it was about my own acceptance. I never felt the need to change. I was born gay. Everyone affirmed it. End of discussion.

Because of my Anglican upbringing and desire to know God, I attended meetings of the Lesbian and Gay Christian Movement. I learned a lot about safe sex but not much about God. In London, I lived a very promiscuous lifestyle and had over two hundred sexual partners before settling into a monogamous long‑term relationship. We even considered traveling abroad to have our partnership blessed, which was unusual in the eighties when the gay community largely rejected monogamy and marriage.

During this relationship, a fellow student asked me, “Do you want more love in your life?” When I said yes, he invited me to a young‑adult worship evening. Within weeks, I committed my life to Jesus Christ. As I developed a spiritual life, I slowly began examining my life more deeply. I realized I had issues affecting my relationships — fear of rejection, commitment problems, anxiety, and a pattern of using others and being used. I also recognized an innate fear of men — not “homophobia” as the gay community used the term, but a real phobia: a chasm between me and the confident heterosexual male.

A close friend suggested therapy. With a Christian therapist, I began recalling repressed childhood events. During this time, I sensed the need to end my long‑term relationship and make Christ central. Therapy helped me forgive many people, especially men. Although my same‑sex attractions were part of the conversation, therapy focused more on emotional walls I had built against parents, siblings, and other significant figures. I realized I had failed to integrate emotionally, physically, and intellectually with other males as a boy. I had perceived rejection, made inner vows never to trust men, and lived out of those vows for years.

As memories surfaced, I discovered I had been sexually abused repeatedly as a child — at school by a married male teacher and at home by an older family friend. I had repressed hundreds of incidents. I also came to recognize that sexual encounters with teachers at sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen were non‑consensual and constituted rape. My testimony eventually helped convict the married teacher, who had abused many boys.

Unable to take my place among men, I had made my primary friendships with women. As I untangled my perceptions of masculinity, I realized I had also developed a deep resentment toward women — partly because they could naturally attract heterosexual men in ways I could not. I had to forgive them, ask forgiveness, and grieve what had happened and what had not happened in my childhood.

As I found resolution through forgiveness, grieving, and spiritual growth, changes occurred deep within me. My fears subsided, anxiety decreased, and my sense of acceptance among men and women grew. My posture, gait, and voice changed. I began to see that perhaps I had never truly been gay — that a man had been hidden within me all along.

As I resolved issues around my own sex, I stopped eroticizing men. I lived chastely for several years, forming healthy male friendships I had missed in youth. As my heart joined the world of heterosexual men, the erotic attraction toward men dwindled. Eventually, I began noticing women in a new way — their curves, scent, and mystery. In my late twenties, I experienced what many males feel in their teens. I began dating women, married, and became a father — something I had been told was impossible.

I never set out to change orientation. I believed I was born gay. But therapy and spiritual work changed me. I realized my identity could not be reduced to labels. I came to believe there is only one orientation — heterosexuality — though affected by the Fall. I pursued cognitive therapy, behavioral therapy, group therapy, EMDR, and psychoanalytic work. A community of Christians supported me without labels or agendas, believing in the “true man” within me.

Years later, I visited my ex‑boyfriend. He had become more effeminate, contracted HIV, and was physically diminished. He told me not to meet again unless I would sleep with him. At that moment, I saw how enslaved he had become to eroticized masculinity. We never met again.

I chose therapy and surrender to Christ. He chose gay affirmation and became lonelier. Therapy saved my life and likely prevented me from pursuing gender reassignment later. I am deeply grateful to the therapists and Christians who supported me despite opposition from both gay activists and some church members.

People ask if I am now exclusively heterosexual. Much of the time, yes. Sexuality can be fluid for many people. I sometimes question my place among men, but I no longer remain stuck. The core damage once mistaken for my identity is repaired. I now know how to process my feelings and restore equilibrium.

I see young men today progressing rapidly through reparative therapies. I am grateful for courageous analysts developing new techniques. Some say my journey is extraordinary, but I believe it is similar to many same‑sex‑attracted men and women. The difference is that I was given — and took — the freedom to explore beneath the surface of my mind and challenge mainstream beliefs about sexual orientation.

To deny others this freedom is, in my view, a grave injustice. Banning reparative or reintegrative therapies denies fundamental human rights. I have met young people who attempted suicide because they could not access reputable therapy. I believe heterophobia and true homophobia — fear of one’s own kind — are more widespread among same‑sex‑attracted people than among heterosexuals. Accusations of “homophobe” or “transphobe” often mask deep internal pain.

Today, I experience a non‑erotic connection with men deeper than anything I knew as a practicing gay man, and I enjoy the mystery of woman as I believe it was created to be. I have exchanged homophobia and heterophobia for a healthy passion for both men and women. Life does not get better than this.

END