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A memory of abuse

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  • Korry Korry
    As I am sure many of you did, I grew up in a dysfunctional family, most notable for a father who had serious, but never diagnosed mental health issues, as well
    Message 1 of 7 , Feb 2, 2010
      As I am sure many of you did, I grew up in a dysfunctional family, most notable for a father who had serious, but never diagnosed mental health issues, as well as alcohol and prescription drug addiction problems.
      He died when I was twelve, but if anything the general dysfunction at home got worse. Lately a very painful memory from my adolescence came back. It was not a case of a repressed memory, but rather something which I never thought about too much after it happened, and yet something, I am not sure what, has caused me to remember and re-evaluate.

      I was from my mother's second marriage; her first husband died in an accident a few years into the marriage, leaving her a widow with two very young sons. About a year later she married again, and then I was born.

      My father had serious mental health and addiction issues, and my half-brothers resented my very existence, in large part because they perceived me as an extension of my father, and I grew up being targeted for all the verbal and psychological abuse they would not dare place upon my father (their stepfather).

      After he died from pancreatic and liver cancer (a consequence of his years of chemical abuse), it seemed that all bets were off and they were free to do to me whatever they felt.

      Both my (half) brothers had much more aggressive, alpha-male personalities than I did; very extroverted, very physical, while I tended towards being more introverted, creative, and sensitive. 

      When I reached adolescence, all their years of taunting me as a "faggot" seemed to find confirmation in the fact that I had no seeming interest in girls. As it is, I virtually had no friends because I had extreme social-relational skills; I really did not know how to "make" friends with my peers, and always felt more comfortable in the company of adults. This was, as I found out decades later, was related to my undiagnosed Aspergers (a form of Autism).

      Around the age of fifteen, one of my brothers began to taunt me repeatedly over the fact that I did not have a "girlfriend," whereas when he was the same (four years earlier) he was a teenage ladies man. I began to make-up stories of seeing girls who lived far away from home. He in turn, would, in front of whatever young woman he was dating at the time, make nasty remarks about my "hips" being very much "woman's hips." (I was not very athletic and had a very lanky build at the time, but I did not have feminine hips). The point was to comunicate the idea that 1) he knew I was gay and 2) he knew that I was terrified to talk about it. And I was; I had lost my father three years earlier, and my mother's reacted in a way that revealed her own degree of mental instability. Hence, I was terrified that the revelation of my homosexuality would drive her to suicide. Looking back, that was an unreasonable fear, but not unreasonable for an adolescent.

      The worst of it, however, was those times when my brother and me were alone, at home, in the kitchen, and he would grab and twist my arms behind my back, bragging about how much stronger he was, and how "girly" thin my wrists were. And occassionally he would attempt to grab my genitalia as a form of sexual humiliation. Or at least he would make gestures creating the impression that he was going to grab my genitals.

      To me, his behavior conflates psychological, physical, and sexual abuse of the worst kind. 

      I feel like writng to him, but I don't know if it would be worth it. My previous attempts to try to broach what happened has resulted in him getting extremely angry and defensive.

      For what it is worth, if I were to at least feel some compassion for him, my brother struggled academically throughout school, even had to repeat a grade, and was always deeply, profoundly insecure, very jealous of both me and his other brother, both of whom had higher vocabulary skills and could "talk" like adults the way he never could. All three of us suffered not only the impact of my father's madness, but my mother's profound narcissism, which rendered her a hollow Stepford mother, keeping a clean house and preparing good meals, but completely ignoring the emotional, social, and academic well-being of her children. Some of this abuse happened right before her, and she pretended it was not happening.

      What do I do? Forgive him? Try to dialogue with him? And how do I forgive him?

    • Rev. Ninure D. Saunders
      You can try to forgive him. You may have to try every day, speaking from experience. I say this because I really want to forgive my Mother, and every time I
      Message 2 of 7 , Feb 2, 2010
        You can try to forgive him. You may have to try every day, speaking from experience.

        I say this because I really want to forgive my Mother, and every time I think I have, I discover the wounds still hurt, and so I try again.

        I would not not try dialoging with him, until and unless he can acknowledge what he did to you.

        Pax Christi,
        Ninure Saunders aka Rainbow Christian
        My Blog
        http://blog.myspace.com/rainbow_christian
        Be my Friend on MySpace:
        http://www.myspace.com/reloc.cfm?c=2&id=a75aba99-1279-4e87-8cfc-b359823723ec
        ===========================
        "All truth passes through three stages: First, it is ridiculed; Second, it is violently opposed; Third, it is accepted as self-evident." -- Arthur Schopenhauer

        People often say with pride, “I’m not interested in politics.” They might as well say, “I’m not interested in my standard of living, my health, my job, my rights, my freedoms, my future, or any future.”
        — Martha Gellhorn, writer/journalist (1908-1998

        Live simply. Love generously.
        Care deeply. Speak kindly.
        Leave the rest to God.

        --- On Tue, 2/2/10, Korry Korry <korrykorrykoan@...> wrote:

        From: Korry Korry <korrykorrykoan@...>
        Subject: [Exex-gay] A memory of abuse
        To: Exex-gay@yahoogroups.com
        Date: Tuesday, February 2, 2010, 9:52 AM

         

        As I am sure many of you did, I grew up in a dysfunctional family, most notable for a father who had serious, but never diagnosed mental health issues, as well as alcohol and prescription drug addiction problems.
        He died when I was twelve, but if anything the general dysfunction at home got worse. Lately a very painful memory from my adolescence came back. It was not a case of a repressed memory, but rather something which I never thought about too much after it happened, and yet something, I am not sure what, has caused me to remember and re-evaluate.

        I was from my mother's second marriage; her first husband died in an accident a few years into the marriage, leaving her a widow with two very young sons. About a year later she married again, and then I was born.

        My father had serious mental health and addiction issues, and my half-brothers resented my very existence, in large part because they perceived me as an extension of my father, and I grew up being targeted for all the verbal and psychological abuse they would not dare place upon my father (their stepfather).

        After he died from pancreatic and liver cancer (a consequence of his years of chemical abuse), it seemed that all bets were off and they were free to do to me whatever they felt.

        Both my (half) brothers had much more aggressive, alpha-male personalities than I did; very extroverted, very physical, while I tended towards being more introverted, creative, and sensitive. 

        When I reached adolescence, all their years of taunting me as a "faggot" seemed to find confirmation in the fact that I had no seeming interest in girls. As it is, I virtually had no friends because I had extreme social-relational skills; I really did not know how to "make" friends with my peers, and always felt more comfortable in the company of adults. This was, as I found out decades later, was related to my undiagnosed Aspergers (a form of Autism).

        Around the age of fifteen, one of my brothers began to taunt me repeatedly over the fact that I did not have a "girlfriend, " whereas when he was the same (four years earlier) he was a teenage ladies man. I began to make-up stories of seeing girls who lived far away from home. He in turn, would, in front of whatever young woman he was dating at the time, make nasty remarks about my "hips" being very much "woman's hips." (I was not very athletic and had a very lanky build at the time, but I did not have feminine hips). The point was to comunicate the idea that 1) he knew I was gay and 2) he knew that I was terrified to talk about it. And I was; I had lost my father three years earlier, and my mother's reacted in a way that revealed her own degree of mental instability. Hence, I was terrified that the revelation of my homosexuality would drive her to suicide. Looking back, that was an unreasonable fear, but not unreasonable for an adolescent.

        The worst of it, however, was those times when my brother and me were alone, at home, in the kitchen, and he would grab and twist my arms behind my back, bragging about how much stronger he was, and how "girly" thin my wrists were. And occassionally he would attempt to grab my genitalia as a form of sexual humiliation. Or at least he would make gestures creating the impression that he was going to grab my genitals.

        To me, his behavior conflates psychological, physical, and sexual abuse of the worst kind. 

        I feel like writng to him, but I don't know if it would be worth it. My previous attempts to try to broach what happened has resulted in him getting extremely angry and defensive.

        For what it is worth, if I were to at least feel some compassion for him, my brother struggled academically throughout school, even had to repeat a grade, and was always deeply, profoundly insecure, very jealous of both me and his other brother, both of whom had higher vocabulary skills and could "talk" like adults the way he never could. All three of us suffered not only the impact of my father's madness, but my mother's profound narcissism, which rendered her a hollow Stepford mother, keeping a clean house and preparing good meals, but completely ignoring the emotional, social, and academic well-being of her children. Some of this abuse happened right before her, and she pretended it was not happening.

        What do I do? Forgive him? Try to dialogue with him? And how do I forgive him?


      • Anthony Venn-Brown
        Here is a passage from my autobiography Korry that might be helpful. I’d been able to get a job as a sales representative with a famous Australian landscape
        Message 3 of 7 , Feb 2, 2010

          Here is a passage from my autobiography Korry that might be helpful.

           

          I’d been able to get a job as a sales representative with a famous Australian landscape photographer and was involved in selling his limited edition prints and organising exhibitions. Realising that there was no hope of ever returning to the ministry, making the effort to be

          Christian seemed like a façade, but I gave God an ultimatum.

           

          ‘You’ve got three months to do a miracle. If you haven’t changed me so I’m no longer attracted to men then I’ll leave and stop wasting our lives.’ I knew deep down what the outcome would be but over the last twenty-two years I’d seen many examples of divine intervention and hoped there might just be an easier way of dealing with the inevitable. For the second time, I was at the point where I could no longer live a lie; this time I would not be swayed again.

           

          I’d seen what had happened to preachers who’d stepped out of the ministry because of immorality or marriage breakdown. I’d even helped a couple of them, like my friend Steve, whose  wife had left him. The humiliation and rejection led to hurt and anger, then eventually bitterness and resentment destroyed them like a terminal cancer, eating away at all that had been good in their hearts. It was tragic to watch them become isolated and gather around them others who would feed their negative energy.

           

          I had enough to deal with during the months ahead and, unless checked, those destructive emotions would eventually destroy me also. The next moment in my life was a defining one. One that I’ve often looked back on and when people have asked me how did you find such peace or how come you still have your sanity, I tell them of this moment when I knew the power of forgiveness would set me free. I’d read so much about how to let go and now was my opportunity to find it in a profound way myself. Unforgiveness is taking the poison you intended for another. Forgiveness is setting the prisoner free only to realise you were the prisoner. With a conscious act of my will I decided to forgive all my friends who had let me down and the denomination that had betrayed me. By letting all that go, I knew I would be free to move on.

           

           

          Anthony

          Moderator

          http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Exex-gay

          My sexual orientation is not a sickness to be healed or a sin to be forgiven. My sexual orientation is a gift from my Creator to be accepted, celebrated, and lived with integrity.

          Freedom 2 B(e)

          Support - Information - Dialogue for GLBTIQ People from Pentecostal/Charismatic Backgrounds go to www.freedom2b.org

           

          From: Exex-gay@yahoogroups.com [mailto:Exex-gay@yahoogroups.com] On Behalf Of Rev. Ninure D. Saunders
          Sent: Wednesday, 3 February 2010 3:07 AM
          To: Exex-gay@yahoogroups.com
          Subject: Re: [Exex-gay] A memory of abuse

           

           

          You can try to forgive him. You may have to try every day, speaking from experience.

           

          I say this because I really want to forgive my Mother, and every time I think I have, I discover the wounds still hurt, and so I try again.

           

          I would not not try dialoging with him, until and unless he can acknowledge what he did to you.

          Pax Christi,
          Ninure Saunders aka Rainbow Christian
          My Blog
          http://blog.myspace.com/rainbow_christian
          Be my Friend on MySpace:
          http://www.myspace.com/reloc.cfm?c=2&id=a75aba99-1279-4e87-8cfc-b359823723ec
          ===========================
          "All truth passes through three stages: First, it is ridiculed; Second, it is violently opposed; Third, it is accepted as self-evident." -- Arthur Schopenhauer

          People often say with pride, “I’m not interested in politics.” They might as well say, “I’m not interested in my standard of living, my health, my job, my rights, my freedoms, my future, or any future.”
          — Martha Gellhorn, writer/journalist (1908-1998

          Live simply. Love generously.
          Care deeply. Speak kindly.
          Leave the rest to God.

          --- On Tue, 2/2/10, Korry Korry <korrykorrykoan@...> wrote:


          From: Korry Korry <korrykorrykoan@...>
          Subject: [Exex-gay] A memory of abuse
          To: Exex-gay@yahoogroups.com
          Date: Tuesday, February 2, 2010, 9:52 AM

           

          As I am sure many of you did, I grew up in a dysfunctional family, most notable for a father who had serious, but never diagnosed mental health issues, as well as alcohol and prescription drug addiction problems.

          He died when I was twelve, but if anything the general dysfunction at home got worse. Lately a very painful memory from my adolescence came back. It was not a case of a repressed memory, but rather something which I never thought about too much after it happened, and yet something, I am not sure what, has caused me to remember and re-evaluate.

           

          I was from my mother's second marriage; her first husband died in an accident a few years into the marriage, leaving her a widow with two very young sons. About a year later she married again, and then I was born.

           

          My father had serious mental health and addiction issues, and my half-brothers resented my very existence, in large part because they perceived me as an extension of my father, and I grew up being targeted for all the verbal and psychological abuse they would not dare place upon my father (their stepfather).

           

          After he died from pancreatic and liver cancer (a consequence of his years of chemical abuse), it seemed that all bets were off and they were free to do to me whatever they felt.

           

          Both my (half) brothers had much more aggressive, alpha-male personalities than I did; very extroverted, very physical, while I tended towards being more introverted, creative, and sensitive. 

           

          When I reached adolescence, all their years of taunting me as a "faggot" seemed to find confirmation in the fact that I had no seeming interest in girls. As it is, I virtually had no friends because I had extreme social-relational skills; I really did not know how to "make" friends with my peers, and always felt more comfortable in the company of adults. This was, as I found out decades later, was related to my undiagnosed Aspergers (a form of Autism).

           

          Around the age of fifteen, one of my brothers began to taunt me repeatedly over the fact that I did not have a "girlfriend, " whereas when he was the same (four years earlier) he was a teenage ladies man. I began to make-up stories of seeing girls who lived far away from home. He in turn, would, in front of whatever young woman he was dating at the time, make nasty remarks about my "hips" being very much "woman's hips." (I was not very athletic and had a very lanky build at the time, but I did not have feminine hips). The point was to comunicate the idea that 1) he knew I was gay and 2) he knew that I was terrified to talk about it. And I was; I had lost my father three years earlier, and my mother's reacted in a way that revealed her own degree of mental instability. Hence, I was terrified that the revelation of my homosexuality would drive her to suicide. Looking back, that was an unreasonable fear, but not unreasonable for an adolescent.

           

          The worst of it, however, was those times when my brother and me were alone, at home, in the kitchen, and he would grab and twist my arms behind my back, bragging about how much stronger he was, and how "girly" thin my wrists were. And occassionally he would attempt to grab my genitalia as a form of sexual humiliation. Or at least he would make gestures creating the impression that he was going to grab my genitals.

           

          To me, his behavior conflates psychological, physical, and sexual abuse of the worst kind. 

           

          I feel like writng to him, but I don't know if it would be worth it. My previous attempts to try to broach what happened has resulted in him getting extremely angry and defensive.

           

          For what it is worth, if I were to at least feel some compassion for him, my brother struggled academically throughout school, even had to repeat a grade, and was always deeply, profoundly insecure, very jealous of both me and his other brother, both of whom had higher vocabulary skills and could "talk" like adults the way he never could. All three of us suffered not only the impact of my father's madness, but my mother's profound narcissism, which rendered her a hollow Stepford mother, keeping a clean house and preparing good meals, but completely ignoring the emotional, social, and academic well-being of her children. Some of this abuse happened right before her, and she pretended it was not happening.

           

          What do I do? Forgive him? Try to dialogue with him? And how do I forgive him?

           

          No virus found in this incoming message.
          Checked by AVG - www.avg.com
          Version: 8.5.435 / Virus Database: 271.1.1/2662 - Release Date: 02/02/10 07:35:00

        • Anthony Venn-Brown
          I think forgiveness is always the first step……and this is more for your benefit than your brothers. What transpires from that will become clearer.
          Message 4 of 7 , Feb 2, 2010

            I think forgiveness is always the first step……and this is more for your benefit than your brothers.

             

            What transpires from that will become clearer. Sometimes we need to do something to cement it……other times the personal act of forgiving someone in our hearts is enough.

             

            One thing you could do is just write an email….but don’t send it.

             

            Sounds like all your family members had stuff to deal with Korry….and played out in different ways. There are very few families that don’t have ‘stuff’. It’s not what happens in families and between siblings that is the issue in the end ……it is how we are going to respond to that now we are adults. Will it make us bitter or better.

             

            Anthony

            Moderator

            http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Exex-gay

            My sexual orientation is not a sickness to be healed or a sin to be forgiven. My sexual orientation is a gift from my Creator to be accepted, celebrated, and lived with integrity.

            Freedom 2 B(e)

            Support - Information - Dialogue for GLBTIQ People from Pentecostal/Charismatic Backgrounds go to www.freedom2b.org

             

            From: Exex-gay@yahoogroups.com [mailto:Exex-gay@yahoogroups.com] On Behalf Of Rev. Ninure D. Saunders
            Sent: Wednesday, 3 February 2010 3:07 AM
            To: Exex-gay@yahoogroups.com
            Subject: Re: [Exex-gay] A memory of abuse

             

             

            You can try to forgive him. You may have to try every day, speaking from experience.

             

            I say this because I really want to forgive my Mother, and every time I think I have, I discover the wounds still hurt, and so I try again.

             

            I would not not try dialoging with him, until and unless he can acknowledge what he did to you.

            Pax Christi,
            Ninure Saunders aka Rainbow Christian
            My Blog
            http://blog.myspace.com/rainbow_christian
            Be my Friend on MySpace:
            http://www.myspace.com/reloc.cfm?c=2&id=a75aba99-1279-4e87-8cfc-b359823723ec
            ===========================
            "All truth passes through three stages: First, it is ridiculed; Second, it is violently opposed; Third, it is accepted as self-evident." -- Arthur Schopenhauer

            People often say with pride, “I’m not interested in politics.” They might as well say, “I’m not interested in my standard of living, my health, my job, my rights, my freedoms, my future, or any future.”
            — Martha Gellhorn, writer/journalist (1908-1998

            Live simply. Love generously.
            Care deeply. Speak kindly.
            Leave the rest to God.

            --- On Tue, 2/2/10, Korry Korry <korrykorrykoan@...> wrote:


            From: Korry Korry <korrykorrykoan@...>
            Subject: [Exex-gay] A memory of abuse
            To: Exex-gay@yahoogroups.com
            Date: Tuesday, February 2, 2010, 9:52 AM

             

            As I am sure many of you did, I grew up in a dysfunctional family, most notable for a father who had serious, but never diagnosed mental health issues, as well as alcohol and prescription drug addiction problems.

            He died when I was twelve, but if anything the general dysfunction at home got worse. Lately a very painful memory from my adolescence came back. It was not a case of a repressed memory, but rather something which I never thought about too much after it happened, and yet something, I am not sure what, has caused me to remember and re-evaluate.

             

            I was from my mother's second marriage; her first husband died in an accident a few years into the marriage, leaving her a widow with two very young sons. About a year later she married again, and then I was born.

             

            My father had serious mental health and addiction issues, and my half-brothers resented my very existence, in large part because they perceived me as an extension of my father, and I grew up being targeted for all the verbal and psychological abuse they would not dare place upon my father (their stepfather).

             

            After he died from pancreatic and liver cancer (a consequence of his years of chemical abuse), it seemed that all bets were off and they were free to do to me whatever they felt.

             

            Both my (half) brothers had much more aggressive, alpha-male personalities than I did; very extroverted, very physical, while I tended towards being more introverted, creative, and sensitive. 

             

            When I reached adolescence, all their years of taunting me as a "faggot" seemed to find confirmation in the fact that I had no seeming interest in girls. As it is, I virtually had no friends because I had extreme social-relational skills; I really did not know how to "make" friends with my peers, and always felt more comfortable in the company of adults. This was, as I found out decades later, was related to my undiagnosed Aspergers (a form of Autism).

             

            Around the age of fifteen, one of my brothers began to taunt me repeatedly over the fact that I did not have a "girlfriend, " whereas when he was the same (four years earlier) he was a teenage ladies man. I began to make-up stories of seeing girls who lived far away from home. He in turn, would, in front of whatever young woman he was dating at the time, make nasty remarks about my "hips" being very much "woman's hips." (I was not very athletic and had a very lanky build at the time, but I did not have feminine hips). The point was to comunicate the idea that 1) he knew I was gay and 2) he knew that I was terrified to talk about it. And I was; I had lost my father three years earlier, and my mother's reacted in a way that revealed her own degree of mental instability. Hence, I was terrified that the revelation of my homosexuality would drive her to suicide. Looking back, that was an unreasonable fear, but not unreasonable for an adolescent.

             

            The worst of it, however, was those times when my brother and me were alone, at home, in the kitchen, and he would grab and twist my arms behind my back, bragging about how much stronger he was, and how "girly" thin my wrists were. And occassionally he would attempt to grab my genitalia as a form of sexual humiliation. Or at least he would make gestures creating the impression that he was going to grab my genitals.

             

            To me, his behavior conflates psychological, physical, and sexual abuse of the worst kind. 

             

            I feel like writng to him, but I don't know if it would be worth it. My previous attempts to try to broach what happened has resulted in him getting extremely angry and defensive.

             

            For what it is worth, if I were to at least feel some compassion for him, my brother struggled academically throughout school, even had to repeat a grade, and was always deeply, profoundly insecure, very jealous of both me and his other brother, both of whom had higher vocabulary skills and could "talk" like adults the way he never could. All three of us suffered not only the impact of my father's madness, but my mother's profound narcissism, which rendered her a hollow Stepford mother, keeping a clean house and preparing good meals, but completely ignoring the emotional, social, and academic well-being of her children. Some of this abuse happened right before her, and she pretended it was not happening.

             

            What do I do? Forgive him? Try to dialogue with him? And how do I forgive him?

             

            No virus found in this incoming message.
            Checked by AVG - www.avg.com
            Version: 8.5.435 / Virus Database: 271.1.1/2662 - Release Date: 02/02/10 07:35:00

          • Ian Horner
            ... Re: [Exex-gay] A memory of abuse Anthony, Those are just amazingly beautiful and insightful words! So good to read them again! Ian & Dane Sydney ... Here
            Message 5 of 7 , Feb 2, 2010
              Re: [Exex-gay] A memory of abuse
              Anthony,

              Those are just amazingly beautiful and insightful words!

              So good to read them again!

              Ian & Dane
              Sydney

              -----
              Here is a passage from my autobiography Korry that might be helpful.
               
              I’d been able to get a job as a sales representative with a famous Australian landscape photographer and was involved in selling his limited edition prints and organising exhibitions. Realising that there was no hope of ever returning to the ministry, making the effort to be
              Christian seemed like a façade, but I gave God an ultimatum.
               
              ‘You’ve got three months to do a miracle. If you haven’t changed me so I’m no longer attracted to men then I’ll leave and stop wasting our lives.’ I knew deep down what the outcome would be but over the last twenty-two years I’d seen many examples of divine intervention and hoped there might just be an easier way of dealing with the inevitable. For the second time, I was at the point where I could no longer live a lie; this time I would not be swayed again.
               
              I’d seen what had happened to preachers who’d stepped out of the ministry because of immorality or marriage breakdown. I’d even helped a couple of them, like my friend Steve, whose  wife had left him. The humiliation and rejection led to hurt and anger, then eventually bitterness and resentment destroyed them like a terminal cancer, eating away at all that had been good in their hearts. It was tragic to watch them become isolated and gather around them others who would feed their negative energy.
               
              I had enough to deal with during the months ahead and, unless checked, those destructive emotions would eventually destroy me also. The next moment in my life was a defining one. One that I’ve often looked back on and when people have asked me how did you find such peace or how come you still have your sanity, I tell them of this moment when I knew the power of forgiveness would set me free. I’d read so much about how to let go and now was my opportunity to find it in a profound way myself. Unforgiveness is taking the poison you intended for another. Forgiveness is setting the prisoner free only to realise you were the prisoner. With a conscious act of my will I decided to forgive all my friends who had let me down and the denomination that had betrayed me. By letting all that go, I knew I would be free to move on.

              Anthony
              Moderator
              http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Exex-gay <http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Exex-gay>
              My sexual orientation is not a sickness to be healed or a sin to be forgiven. My sexual orientation is a gift from my Creator to be accepted, celebrated, and lived with integrity.
              Freedom 2 B(e) <http://www.freedom2b.org/>
              Support - Information - Dialogue for GLBTIQ People from Pentecostal/Charismatic Backgrounds go to www.freedom2b.org <www.freedom2b.org>
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