CueValle

Stories from My Life

By No Means Am I a Saint

“There is no saint without a past, no sinner without a future.”—St. Augustine of Hippo

I have been living here in Milwaukee for thirteen (13) months now. I went to Sunday mass today at my local parish, Old Saint Mary, where Fr. Kent Beausoleil—who calls the parishioners “future saints” when he says goodbye to them—was the celebrant. I ran into him in the lavatory after mass and I told him to have a nice week, to which he replied “You too, saint.” The fact that he referred to me as a “saint” instead of a “future saint” made me feel good.


I still have a long way to go to be a saint, but I have definitely come a long way. For many years, I was the most wretched of sinners: defiant and disrespectful to my mother; rude and vulgar; curious and careless; willing to try anything once if an offer presented itself; chain smoker; heavy drinker and drug user; frequent patron of seedy bars and taverns; and occasional partaker in certain homosexual activity.


I am happy to say I am no longer any of those things. I didn’t change overnight and I didn’t have a life-changing experience which put a stop to my shenanigans. I changed gradually. I changed over many years. I did not know this at the time, but our Lord Jesus Christ was with me during all those years.


For many years, I felt that God didn’t love me. I felt He had created me to be so different from most people because He enjoyed watching me struggle and was being entertained by the predicaments I was induced into. I never understood why He created me to be sad, miserable, hopeless, and full of despair. Although loving, trusting, and caring for my family, friends, and persons I met in life led me to betrayal, heartache, emotional pain, confusion, and deep sorrow; I never gave up on people and I never blamed God for my misery and suffering.


I always believed in God and I never complained to Him because I felt the sole purpose of my existence in this world was to amuse our Lord with my out-of-the ordinary actions and behavior when confronted with difficult situations. I always thanked Him for the good and unfortunate in my life. I would ask Him the reason why things were as they were, but I never asked Him to make things better for me. I would only ask Him to take me out of this world, to obliterate my physical existence in this material world—even if it meant spending eternity in Hell. Since I have an extremely high tolerance for physical pain and I had grown accustomed to suffering emotionally, Hell didn’t sound as terrible as living in this world.


God never granted my request, though. He never allowed me to die because He loves me. He wanted to give me the opportunity to repent of my wicked ways, be truly contrite for my sins, receive absolution through the Sacrament of Reconciliation, and receive the Sacrament of Confirmation—all of my own free will. I now realize that He loves me and that he wants me to love Him as best I can; and I finally realize that my mother has always loved me. I have learned that God always knows what is best for all of us.


My dear mother is eighty-five (85) years old now and I am forty-three (43). I have traveled a long treacherous road with many sorrows and very few joys to where I am today and by no means am I a saint, but I do feel that anything is possible with God. I am a sinner who has been led by the Holy Spirit to where I am now, who has been saved numerous times by the grace of God, and who is loved by Jesus, Mary our Blessed Mother, and Joseph, her most chaste spouse and foster-father of the Son of God. God is great because God is good.

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The Book of Henry

THE BOOK OF HENRY may be one of the best films of all time. Director Colin Trevorrow’s family drama tackles sensitive, mature subject matter, but is not graphic and contains no nudity whatsoever. It is humorous, at times, and has some suspense. This film is full of emotion and delivers a great message—without being overly sentimental and without showcasing characters committing adultery or using illicit drugs. The film is rated PG-13 for profanity and features exceptional performances from the entire cast. Jaeden Lieberher plays Henry, a teenage boy with exceptional intelligence, and Jacob Tremblay plays his little brother who looks up to him. Naomi Watts plays their single mother who is overly dependent upon her older son.

Thanks to Gregg Hurwitz’s screenplay, the dialogue sounds real and the situations are not far fetched. Without spoiling the entire movie, THE BOOK OF HENRY is about the trials of life; our roles as parents & children within the family; society & our responsibility towards those who aren’t members of our family; and our individual legacy in regards to how we impact and affect the lives of everyone we interact with. Colin Trevorrow’s direction is precise as he weaves all of these themes together to create a wonderful motion picture set in a small town. For a film set mostly indoors, it’s pretty to look at, thanks to the beautiful cinematography by John Schwartzman and impressive production design by Kalina Ivanov.

THE BOOK OF HENRY is definitely one of the best films of 2017.

Pray for Us

Dear Twitter family:
I am asking for your prayers on behalf of me and every other member of my family who live in our residence: both of my elderly parents, and two of my older siblings who happen to be co-owners of this house, my sister-godmother and my brother.

A few days before Christmas, Humberto, my older brother who sexually abused me for many years and who I live with because I take care of our elderly parents admitted to me and my sister-godmother that he hates us because he can no longer control or abuse us. Humberto also stated that he is going to kill me in self-defense when I least expect it because I bully him whenever I speak the truth.

Thank you very much.

Pray for Us

Dear Twitter family:
I am asking for your prayers on behalf of me and every other member of my family who live in our residence: both of my elderly parents, and two of my older siblings who happen to be co-owners of this house, my sister-godmother and my brother.

A few days before Christmas, Humberto, my older brother who sexually abused me for many years and who I live with because I take care of our elderly parents admitted to me and my sister-godmother that he hates us because he can no longer control or abuse us. Humberto also stated that he is going to kill me in self-defense when I least expect it because I bully him whenever I speak the truth.

Thank you very much.

Can Something more Evil than Abortion Exist?

(The following is not fiction. I wish it were. The following story from my life includes disturbing themes that ought to be addressed by law enforcement and all members of society.)

A member of my extended family on my mother’s side who has a tendency to move from place to place, having her telephone line disconnected, had invited my family to her daughter’s quinceñera back in 2005. Because she changes her residence with much frequency and would only come around when she needed some kind of monetary favor, we hadn’t seen her in years and my mother insisted someone attend the party to represent us.

Since I enjoyed drinking and dancing (in that order), I offered to go. One of my brothers whose three (3) years older than me accompanied me. We had a good time with my cousin that night and I chose to independently socialize with her more than our family usually does, but this did not turn out as expected.

My cousin was living with a man who behaved as a father to all of my cousin’s adolescent children even though none of them were his biologically. I thought this guy was cool because of this, but it turned out he wasn’t.

About a month into hanging out with my cousin and her family, my cousin’s male partner invited me to Mexico. They stated they go every summer. Since I have never been to mainland Mexico, this invitation immediately got my attention, but it was not a family vacation this man was inviting me to.

Unbeknownst to my cousin and in hushed tones, this man stated that, if I had the need to, I would be able to spend time away from the family in order to have discreet sexual intercourse for pay with a woman—even girls as young as nine (9) years old.

I showed no emotion to the man proposing this, but this was horrifyingly sick to hear. I am not nor have I ever been attracted to children. I am not a pedophile. I have never involved myself sexually with either boys or girls.

I never told my cousin nor this disgusting man that I am attracted to my own sex, so because I was a single, non-effeminate man in my 30s, he just assumed I was into little girls.

I never returned to their house after that incident. Innocent children sexually exploited for profit is evil. My cousin came around several times after that to visit my mother and I had a short conversation with him once because my cousin insisted I say hello to him. That last time I spoke to him was also the last time I saw him. He asked me if I was saving up my money for the best summer vacation of my life. As is often the case with me, I spoke with sincerity, answering, “No, I’m not.”

The Republican Nominee

The following is my opinion. Although I am a registered Republican, I am not a Trump supporter. Wisconsin governor Scott Walker was—and still is—my preferred GOP candidate for president of the United States.

All of this media attention regarding Mr. Donald Trump’s locker room banter with Billy Bush that occurred more than a decade ago doesn’t make Mr. Trump look any worse than he already does—and for more recent comments he’s made in public. It makes Billy Bush look like a pervert for his involvement in this kind of dirty talk.

The media attention revolving around this leaked tape proves that the network media is indeed controlled by liberals. Secretary of State Hillary Rodham-Clinton has said far worse and has even committed crimes while in the Obama administration and the media remains quiet. It is a shame that objective journalism no longer exists in America.

Our first-world country of America is slowly but surely turning into a third-world nation which our United States used to liberate. President Barack Hussein Obama behaves like a dictator with all of his “executive decisions.” America will continue to be oppressed by the Obama regime with Hillary Clinton as president of the United States.

I am prolife and I’m against Hillary Clinton because she is a proud supporter of partial-birth abortion. If a human being thinks it is fine to kill an innocent unborn child, what makes you think this person cares about the well-being of any other person in the country, especially a person who is not of their same social class or heritage?

Hillary does not give a damn about anyone but herself. With Hillary Clinton as our leader, America will lose many freedoms. We’ve already lost our freedom of speech and we’re in the process of losing our freedom of the press. Eventually, we will lose our right to bear arms; soon after, we will lose our freedom of religion. It’s only a matter of time.

I don’t know what America will be like with Donald Trump as president, but I am willing to take a chance on him—and vote for him—because I trust God.

God does not cause bad things. People do. God respects our free will and will always create good out of bad, no matter what. We simply have to trust in Him.

“Hello, I’m Judas Ogre.”

When I was a teenager, one of my older brothers gave me the nickname Ogre. I don’t recall exactly why he started calling me that, but I believe it was because I would get mad easily and I would talk back to my elders.

In Mexican culture, one is not supposed to disagree, much less argue, with an older member of one’s family. I was born and raised in America, and when I was a child, my parents were preoccupied with other matters and didn’t talk much to me, much less instill this highly important value in me. I never felt I had to follow my parents or older siblings instructions without question simply because they were older than me. It didn’t seem fair to me, so I did not follow this crazy rule.

Being the youngest of nine, no one would notice me as a child, so it was appalling to my parents and older brother that I went from being an obedient child to a defiant teenager overnight. I was a lonely adolescent struggling with same sex attraction and I was trying to share my thoughts and opinions, but because my ideas differed from theirs, I was told to shut up. From being ignored during my childhood to being prohibited from expressing myself, I did not feel wanted. It also didn’t help matters that my parents are not affectionate people because in addition to feeling unwanted, I also felt unloved.

The brother who started calling me Ogre had been sexually abusing me for many years and had ended the abuse, I assume, because I was too old. He taught me to read as a child and I am grateful to God and him for this, but calling me Ogre was hurtful. It became even more painful when my own mother joined him in calling me Ogre. It was a joke to them, but this caused much pain. Around this time, there was an instance when I kissed my mother on the cheek and that same brother witnessed this and called me Judas, in honor of Jesus Christ’s betrayer.

This nickname did not last as long as Ogre, which lasted for several years, but once again, my mother joined him in name calling. I was already feeling unwanted and unloved, and now I felt hated. How is name calling going to help me from being a rude, defiant, and angry youth?

Needless to say, I have never felt that after God, family is most important or that parents can love unconditionally. I have always felt that people feign love and pretend to care out of self-interest which, thank God, heightened my sense of perception regarding the intentions and motivations of others.

In conclusion, my disobedience and disrespect to my family created the nickname Judas and expressing my feelings of anger at being unwanted, unloved, and hated created the nickname Ogre. I am the only one in my family incapable of conforming to injustice, ignoring my feelings, and denying to speak sincerely. If I am to be called Judas or Ogre because of this, then allow me to introduce myself, “Hello, I’m Judas Ogre.”

Born this Way? (No.)

In the span of twenty (20) years, I had not yet discovered joy or happiness in the world. Most likely due to my depression, I tended to always focus on the negative aspects of life so the only things I encountered during this time were sadness, desperation, deception, hopelessness, exploitation, degradation, hate, crime, violence, and much ugliness.

Although I had stopped attending Sunday mass on a regular basis and I had not completed the sacrament of Confirmation, I did attend mass once a year in order to thank God for my wretched life. I never asked God for personal favors or for His help because I always felt I was not worthy of receiving anything good. I felt I was evil because of my same-sex attraction, sexual desires, and sexual activities. Because I was certain that God had created me this way, I felt I was destined to hell for being gay. I have never felt loved by anyone, including my parents and siblings, and I figured it was due to my homosexuality. My outlook on life has always been bleak, yet I never blamed God for my miserable life. Once a year in November, on or before my birthday, I attended Sunday mass to thank God for the life He gave me.

I was far from the Church all of these years, so I used my own moral compass to guide me in life. One trait that God had bestowed upon me was honesty and I used this virtue to guide me. I felt that the truth, no matter how embarrassing, horrifying, or scandalous, was nothing to hide or be ashamed of. I learned the hard way that not everyone feels the same as I do about speaking the truth. There are persons who deliberately deceive others in order to exploit them. There are persons who deny the truth as a defense mechanism. There are persons who are unable to hear the truth because they want to live in a false reality.

So, was I born this way? This is the truth:

  • God created me as a heterosexual male (just like every male).
  • I was sexually abused as a child by an older male for several years.
  • This lengthy sexual abuse sprouted my same-sex attraction.
  • As a trauma victim, my brain protected me by not recalling each of these incidents.
  • This lead me to falsely believe that I was born gay.

I was not born this way. The questions I had as a child were answered and I never found what I had been seeking. I am well aware that I will never find joy or happiness in this world because He loves me and wants each one of us to spend eternity in heaven. It is not He who condemns us to hell. We do it ourselves, of our own free will. We condemn ourselves to hell by the actions we commit because we deny the truth, claim ignorance, or live for the here and now.

Love the sinner, hate the sin.

Born this Way?

I have suffered from depression and same-sex attraction for as long as I can remember…ever since I was a child. I always thought it was natural for me to feel attracted to members of my own sex because I have felt this attraction since I was five (5) years old. My depression was not diagnosed until I was in junior high school, at the age of fourteen (14), but I had always felt sad and alone. I spent my time isolated from my parents and my other older siblings.

As a child, my mother instilled in me her Roman Catholic faith and although I was confused as to why God made me weird, I never felt anger nor resentment toward God. I simply accepted the person I was, the person God created.

That said, I never understood the reason God created me different from other boys in my classroom. I was obedient, respectful, and more studious than most boys. I was not talkative nor physically active than other boys. As I grew up, I realized that most of society frowned upon persons in my predicament, so I learned to hide my true feelings out of fear of being rejected by my family and friends. I did not understand why God would create me so different that I would feel shame and sadness my entire life.

As a teen, I became defiant towards my parents thanks to the influence of several liberal teachers I had in high school whose philosophy it was that students should speak their mind with no regard to the norms of society, family, religion, and government. I have always been sensitive, caring, honest, and was prone to experience deep sorrow and loneliness, so I went out in the world on a quest to feel joy, or at least some form of happiness.

At first I went to gay locales in order to meet other gay men who would not discriminate against me and accept me as I was—just like them. I quickly realized that the Los Angeles suburb of West Hollywood was a ghetto. I was not a White, physically fit or muscular man with a well-paid job who owned a nice vehicle, so I was not welcomed by gay society. I was shunned by the same people who demand society treat them as equals.

I did not expect to find so much hate and hypocrisy among persons who have suffered alienation, and perhaps discrimination or worse, from mainstream society, but I did.

I was not pretentious, materialistic nor superficial. I was not into gossip nor being the center of attention. I did not enjoy having insubstantial, anonymous sexual encounters. I was not fickle in regard to my emotions and I was not a creative person. Because of the fact that I was too weird for gay society, I never tried to assimilate to their way of life.

As an odd man out, I felt so alone in the world that I gradually began to numb my feelings with all night parties with “straight friends” fueled with binge drinking, illicit drugs, and occasional sexual gratification. Needless to say, I did not discover any joy in the pursuit of these activities.

Thoughts on Love (7 April 1998)

Love is like an open wound.

It hurts like hell.

And it feels great.

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