FIXING FRANK...fixing myself?

The other day when I was at the library I picked out a DVD that intrigued me called Fixing Frank. The synopsis reads:

“Reporter Frank Johnston is sent undercover by his boyfriend, psychotherapist Jonathan Baldwin to write and exposé on Dr. Arthur Apsey, a therapist who claims he can successfully change gay men to straight men! Posing as a patient, Frank eventually falls under Apsey’s spell. As Frank’s relationship with Jonathan deteriorates, a fierce psychological tug of war erupts between the two doctors over the heart and the mind of Frank.”

Basically, the film examines reparative therapy, the type of therapy designed to “repair” a homosexual individual and help them become, if not completely heterosexual, the least homosexual possible. For a while, I wondered which side the film was promoting (it is ultimately against RT), but it was interesting and challenging to hear the arguments made by Dr. Apsey as he defended his methods. Dr. Baldwin denounces such therapy as being inhumane and damaging, but Apsey boldly advocates the virtues of his approach.

When I first came out to myself, I remember the great distress that permeated every moment, the looming acceptance of something I had always hoped could not be true about me. I remember thinking that once I went to a therapist and worked through my issues I would be “fine” in six months or so—what a cheerfully naïve prognosis! In the counseling I did do, I worked through my self-worth issues and my perfectionism, such that by the end of the semester I was no longer depressed and, hey! I even started to like myself a little.

It was at that point that I began attending Evergreen meetings, where I met other gay LDS men like myself who were seeking support and answers to far-reaching questions like “Is change possible?” “Could I one day marry a woman?” etc. When I first joined, I was told to buy three books: In Quiet Desperation, Growing into Manhood, and Jason Park’s Resolving Homosexual Problems: A Guide for LDS Men. I read the Park book first, and it essentially advocates a reparative approach, discussing male emotional needs and possible reasons why men are socialized to have homosexual feelings. I found many things interesting and because I had so little knowledge and experience it all seemed fine and dandy to me. Just fill those homoemotional and homosocial needs, and the homosexuality goes away! Or if it doesn’t go away, it will diminish such that normal heterosexual feelings could take its place, or the person would feel less distressed.

Wanting to know how this might happen, I began reading Alan Meninger’s book Growing into Manhood. As has happened with only two or three books that I can recall, I couldn’t finish it. The book freaked me out! The message I got from what I read was that I would essentially have to give up my personality and interests and force myself into more “masculine” circles in order to learn how to be a man because I didn’t when I was growing up. While I grant that I did feel excluded from many of the “male rites of passage” in my childhood and teenage years, what that book proposed scared me and seemed to place before me an insurmountable and perhaps damaging task. So I stopped reading it, bewildered and wondering what would happen to me if I could never change and I remained (gasp) myself with (gasp) homosexual feelings.

Then I read In Quiet Desperation. Though I don’t know how much I agree with/relate to it now, at the time it was so helpful for me in getting me away from the I-have-to-change-soon-or-I’ll-always-be-miserable mindset. The concept that helped me most was when Ty Mansfield said that, in reference to our ultimate salvation, our sexual orientation won’t save us. Heterosexuality isn’t our savior, God is. From that point on I decided it was much better to work on my relationship with God and remain close to him instead of trying to be someone I’m not and feel something I don’t. I threw out the idea of trying to become straight and “resolve my homosexual problems” and instead worked on self-acceptance, spirituality, and developing wholeness in my life.

Seeing the film last night brought back all of these memories, including the prior conflict I had felt, feeling much like Frank at times where I didn’t know what I wanted or who to believe. In one scene, Dr. Apsey offers Frank a pill that he says will make him straight, hypothetically. He asks Frank to ignore everything other than his own voice and then asks if he would take the pill. I have been asked a similar question when I’ve spoken in classrooms. People have asked me if I would change my orientation were I given the opportunity. For a while the answer would have been a simple “yes,” but now I’m not so sure. I have learned so much about living and I have had to confront issues that I never would have because of my homosexuality. I have learned greater empathy and understanding, for myself and others. It’s a tricky question, and right now I have an idea the answer today would be “no.”

How do I feel about reparative therapy? The thought I took away from watching this movie was that changing one's sexual orientation is, as with many things, a choice. Those people who do not want their same-sex desires might benefit from such therapy, though some people come off worse because of it. I don't see it as unethical or immoral to help people attain the state of being they desire, but it is a choice on the part of the person and it takes an enormous amount of committment. Personally, I think it would be damaging for me to deconstruct my feelings and my reality at this point. However, I have deep respect for my friends who are trying to change and those in mixed-orientation relationships. Props to you if you can do it, and I won't try to stop you. Every person has to decide what is best for him/her. The following words of my favorite musical Wicked seem to fit those who choose either path:

Glinda: I hope you're happy / Now that you're choosing this...

Elphaba: You too - I hope it brings you bliss

Both: I really hope you get it / And you don't live to regret it / I hope you're happy in the end / I hope you're happy, my friend...