Here is an excellent read by Scott Terry on the Huffington Post. He was a Jehovah’s Witness who hated himself for being gay and tried desperately to change himself. Here is an excerpt from his story — including a hot cowboy scene.

Thirty years ago, during a bull-riding practice session, I met a handsome steer wrestler from Wyoming. Buck was taller than I was. Furry, blond, and beefy. He was sexy as hell. We travelled around the intercollegiate rodeo circuit and saved money by sharing a hotel room with other college cowboys, shacking up four cowboys to a room, two in each bed. More than once, when left alone in our hotel room, Buck tackled me on the bed to wrestle naked.

I was not a willing participant. I was as homophobic as they come. Not only was I verbally homophobic, but my life was still absorbed by religious indoctrination and guilt. Words like “fag” and “queer” came easy to me in the company of others. In the privacy of my unspoken mind, I characterized my secret homosexual desires as “gay,” a much gentler term for the desires that I didn’t want, and a stark contrast to the epithets I used in public discussions of other homosexuals. Everything I believed about homosexuality had been learned from my father and my religious upbringing with the Jehovah’s Witnesses, and none of it was nice….

My history with fundamentalism has given me an oversized suspicion of religion. Religious preaching all sounds the same to me today, and I no longer think that God or righteousness is found in a church. I just don’t.

So knowing what I know today, and being free of even a smidge of self-hatred for being gay, would I go back to my rodeo years, if I could, and explore what Buck was offering to me back then? Would I wrestle naked with him? Hell yeah.

Read the whole article.