You need to sign in or sign up before continuing.

2.0

Oof. I read this book because many, many Christians who hold non-affirming LGBTQ theology recommended it to me in hopes that it would change my theology or convince me to be straight again. (Which is highly problematic to begin with, but that’s not the point of this review.) I couldn’t have a conversation with them if I hadn’t read the book, so I read the book.

I admire Hill Perry’s courage in sharing her story. That’s no small thing. I also admire her writing style — she’s a talented wordsmith who seamlessly weaves prose, poetry, memoir, and prayer. I also admire the way she earnestly seeks to serve God with humility.

I appreciate the nuance of her position. She doesn’t argue that God will turn people straight, nor should that be anyone’s goal. She also doesn’t believe heterosexual marriage to be the point of the Christian life, and she calls out the ways that the “heterosexual gospel” popular in America has wrongly made marriage synonymous with sanctification.

But man. Most of her theology I wholeheartedly disagree with, and reading about the ways her theology has impacted her life broke my heart.

Her book isn’t an exploration of that theology; she begins with the premise that it’s not possible to be in a same-sex relationship and be a faithful Christian, and she doesn’t question that. So I’m not really sure why my friends suggested this book to me. One individual’s personal experience of God is not Gospel-truth, and a stranger’s personal experience of God should not and will not convince me that my personal experience is invalid.

Problematically, Hill Perry conflates gender identity and sexuality throughout the entire text. A lengthy section of the book details a shopping trip to Forever 21 for her to buy “female” clothes that don’t hide the shape of her God-given body, which she poses she needs to embrace in order to be a biblical woman. She also talks about needing to wear a real bra rather than a sports bra in order to embrace her God-given femininity. If this is merely her personal experience or preference, then that’s for her to work through. But she posits it as if any woman who presents as a “stud” or “butch” is rejecting their femininity and rejecting their God-given identity. Where in the Bible are women told to wear fitted clothing or undergarments that enhance their shape? Where in the Bible are women instructed to present their bodies in a way that aligns with a cultural/societal standard of what it means to be feminine? It breaks my heart that Jacky thought she had to give up the clothes that made her feel most at home in her body in order to meet a standard that is not biblical. It breaks my heart that folks who read this might be encouraged to do the same, rather than exercise their God-given creativity in how they dress and express themselves.

I also find it problematic that so much of her memoir details traumatic experiences inflicted at the hands of men, which reconfirms a prominent misconception that women are gay because of “daddy issues.” Hill Perry has a footnote that refutes this point, but it’s only that—a singular footnote that stands in opposition to an argument which the arch of her entire book supports. It breaks my heart that Hill Perry had so many terrible experiences with men. And I worry that her story will bolster the people who have told me that I’m “just confused” because I’ve had bad experiences dating men, and if I deal with my trauma, I’ll realize that I’m actually straight. Which is just untrue.

So, a 2-star review: props for the quality of the writing, but would not recommend because the content is damaging and dangerous to anybody who knows an LGBTQ individual (so, everybody).