I was diagnosed with testicular cancer at 26. At the time I was a gay, celibate, obedient Catholic. The inner turmoil I felt about the conflict between my sexuality and my religion was far worse than the cancer diagnosis. Having read the words of Saint Chrysostom at thirteen who said I homosexuals are better off dead and having heard all my life that gays were child molesters and bound for Hell. And I BELIEVED IT. I couldn’t forgive myself for simply being what I was. I couldn’t stand the shame of disappointing God, even if the betrayal was only a feeling.
For someone who had been suicidally depressed for much of his life since puberty, I faced the diagnosis calmly and practically. When I got the diagnosis from the biopsy and the news that my testicle had already been removed, my doctor cried. I just said I’ll do what has to be done.
There was a major abdominal surgery to remove metastatic tissue and four rounds of chemotherapy so toxic that it had to be prepared with a gas mask. I almost died from the side effects of the anti-nausea medication.
When I was cured, I felt mysteriously disappointed. Subconsciously, I had hoped this cancer would be a release from the indignity and conflict of my life. I prayed to God for death at Christmas mass that year.
The answer to my prayer was an insight that my religion had been a greater danger to my life and well being than cancer had ever been. It had taken away my will to live and, even, my conviction that I had a right to live.
As the years went by, I saw my Church and my fellow Catholics villainize gays as child molesters, endorse anti-gay discrimination in employment, housing, military service, hospital visitation and medical power of attorney rights, and access to insurance.
Eventually, I renounced my religion as evil, hateful, and contrary to the will of a just God.
I now value my life and have the dignity to share my life and my gifts with others thanks to that renunciation of religion. Perhaps, there is a God, but the way to reach him isn’t through some anti-gay death cult.

Thank you for your inspiring story, Mary Ann! (Sorry that Frank barged in with his own narcissistic agenda). Yours is a story of authentic faith, hope and love. GOD BLESS YOU!!!!