In The Affirmative: Listening and telling stories

A  painting by Wendy's wife Jo which Wendy says reminds her of 'the value of being listened to well, or listening well to someone else’.

OUR MOST READ BLOGGER since 2022 is back with the third of a new series sharing more of her story. Content warning: This month includes her experience of sexual and spiritual abuse.

In the Affirmative is a monthly blog from Open Table member Wendy Young who shares her life, thoughts and experience as a queer Christian in Britain. We’d love to hear from you, too: Wendy invites readers to add their responses and reactions as we build community together. You can read the first two in the series here and here.

Welcome back! I’m so glad you’re here.

“We might be a small minority but we have such powerful stories to tell! And given the right circumstances, we can give to other people the things we didn’t get when we needed them most. ”

As LGBT+ people, we’re a small minority group: In the UK the 2021 census figures say that an estimated 3.3% of the UK population aged 16 years and over identified as lesbian, gay or bisexual (LGB) in 2022, an increase from 2.1% in 2017. (Because I lived most of my life in South Africa, I went to look at their 2022 census but the current structure of the census there does not even mention LGBT+ people. Yes, really.) I can’t help but wonder what the percentage would be if absolutely every single LGBT+ person felt safe to say ‘yep, that’s me’. In 2023 Stonewall published a report that showed hate crimes based on sexual orientation were up by 112% since 2018. How do we change this?

It is my personal experience that sharing our stories with our own ‘tribe’ is extremely valuable. It helps us understand our value as members of society and it helps us look for opportunities to listen better too. First, we have to be allies to each other; then we can look for allies elsewhere.

Last time I told you about how I had to leave high school due to a mental health crisis. I am now going to tell you more about what led to this crisis. This is the hardest part of my story and it has taken me very long to finish writing it.

If you want to skip the part that might be triggering, scroll down to ‘And now…’

I was sexually abused as a child, for about seven years, by a family member. When I was 17 I started seeing a mental health professional. Together we had to unpick the complex layers of abuse, sexuality and faith and, once the floodgates were open, it seemed I wanted to talk to others about these things too. In retrospect I can see three distinct differences in how people dealt with what I was telling them - these three examples still inform how I listen to others today.

Listener 1: The Psychologist

During my first ever session I told her that I thought I am gay. This didn’t seem to be the taboo I had expected it to be, not to her anyway. I also told her about the sexual abuse. Actually, she had to tell me about it: I had used words that would indicate a relationship, a consensual and equally balanced exchange. She taught me legal and medical terminology for what had happened and, by the end of one of our first sessions, my body was shaking, shell-shocked at the truth of incestuous abuse and rape. Over the course of about ten sessions, her no-nonsense, non-judgmental approach was incredibly helpful in my understanding of what had happened to me and in finding a way of coming to terms with it.

Listener 2: The Teacher

My home economics teacher was new at my school and was also the school counsellor. I spent many afternoons in her garden and we gradually became friends who shared our poetry, our trauma and a deep emotional intimacy with one another. I know now that this was inappropriate and made falling in love with her almost inevitable. I am, however,  still grateful for the generosity with which she gave me her time and attention. It was unconditional.

Listener 3: The Vicar

Around this time the Dutch Reformed Church minister came to visit me at my home. It went a bit like this:

‘Your parents have mentioned to me that you think you might be gay. Well, you’re not, because you’re Christian, so that’s just not possible. They also mentioned you told them you were “raped” by your uncle…’

(He made air quotes with his fingers).

‘Did he rip your clothes?’

‘No.’

‘Did he bruise you?’

‘No.’

‘OK, so then you weren’t “raped” and you need to stop saying that.’

I was staring at him blankly, knowing full well that what he was saying didn’t tally with the actual truth.

‘Good, I’m glad we could have this chat. I’ll go tell your parents everything's fine.’

I let him say this and watched him leave.

What followed…

…was years of trying to balance all these aspects of myself simultaneously: I am Christian, I am gay, I was abused, and I want to be happy. I can honestly say that it is only now, in my 40s, that I am starting to experience an equilibrium. It is also only now that I have enough clarity to know what kind of listener I want to be.

And now…

Last winter we ran the first ‘Being With’ course at my church. This is a course by Sam Wells and Sally Hitchiner of St Martin in the Fields, created to help people discover dimensions of God’s desire to be with them. I am in the exceptionally privileged position to say that I was asked to lead this course alongside our vicar - the opposite kind of minister to Listener 3 above - and that it has taught me many things. One of them is that it is an invaluable kind of listening just to be with someone, fully present, not distracted by anything, with no need to provide any solutions or platitudes. No need even for words. Being in the presence of someone who is going through something traumatic is a gift, to the person going through it as much as to the person listening.

My privilege goes further: I was able to preach a Sunday morning sermon in the church I have called home for about two years now. We focused on the theme of prayer - you can see the service here, with my wife Jo doing the reading at about 16.5 minutes in (This is a treat; don’t miss it). My message follows straight after the reading.

We might be a small minority but we have such powerful stories to tell! And given the right circumstances, we can give to other people the things we didn’t get when we needed them most.

Until next time: Let’s be good listeners. Let’s also be storytellers.

God has made you wonderfully - share that with the world.

Wendy