I Went Through an Online “Ex-Gay” Program as a Teen

Matt Davis
7 min readAug 4, 2022

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Image: Pixabay

The year was 2003. Online classes weren’t a big deal yet, much less ones devoted to “freedom from homosexuality.” But there I was, a thirteen year-old boy enrolled in a class that promised to rid me of same-sex attraction in 60 days.

Trigger Warning: This article contains mentions of depression, self-harm, and suicide. If you need help, dial 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.

It’s Not Always What You Think

This might not fit the mold of what people think about when they hear the words “ex-gay therapy,” which is the dangerous practice of attempting to change someone’s sexual orientation. Often this is done for religious reasons. It can also be called “conversion” or “reparative” therapy.

One might picture a camp that queer kids are taken to, kicking and screaming, by religious parents. We’ve seen such images in movies like But I’m a Cheerleader or They/Them. You might imagine these programs attempt to change unwilling participants from being gay to being straight.

Reality can be a bit more subtle. Attempts by religious communities to change or “heal” someone from being gay don’t always occur at camps or ministries that slap the words “ex-gay therapy” on their front door. It can be at a Christian counselor’s office, in a private session with a pastor, or, yes, in an online class.

Sometimes participants might feel like it’s the best thing for them to do, but only because they’re sheltered from a mainstream approach to sexuality and gender. Plus often the expected result isn’t to change someone from gay to straight, but rather to encourage a queer person to become something of a spiritual eunuch, abstinent from all romantic relationships.

Despite these differences between perception and reality, one thing remains true: attempts to alter your sexuality are harmful. This view is supported by virtually every mainstream medical organization, including the American Psychological Association, American Psychiatric Association, and the National Association of Social Workers.

How I Got There

I grew up in a very conservative Kansas suburb where I didn’t know anyone who was openly gay. My family at the time was involved in a fundamentalist, Pentecostal church that condemned homosexuality.

Once I discovered that I was attracted to guys instead of girls, it was very scary for me. I thought it meant I was a freak or had some kind of an illness. After a few years of keeping everything bottled up I decided I had to speak with someone about what I was going through. But I was too scared to talk with anyone I knew.

So I called an anonymous “prayer hotline” that was on the back of a Christian magazine. The person I spoke to encouraged me to enroll in an online class called “The Door of Hope” that was affiliated with the Christian website ministry Setting Captives Free.

This website was started by a man named Mike Cleveland, an airline pilot from Ohio, in the year 2000. The original purpose of the ministry was to help people with pornography addiction, but soon after they created more classes that promised freedom from other “sins,” including homosexuality. Setting Captives Free was also very opposed to psychiatry, and another one of their classes claimed to set people “free” from their psychiatric medications.

Even though I had mentioned that I was feeling depressed, I was discouraged from seeking outside “secular” help and even encouraged to keep everything a secret from my parents. I’d rush home after school to try and finish up my classwork on the computer before my parents got home.

More Like the Door of NOPE!

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For “The Door of Hope,” I was given daily reading and homework assignments. They also assigned me a mentor, a man in his 40’s or 50’s named Steve (not his real name), who was supposed to email me as I progressed through the class. Even though the class instructions said to not make outside contact with our mentor (including phone calls) Steve made an effort to get my phone number so I could talk with him.

A big focus of the class was looking at any opportunity we had to “sin” and remove it, whether that was just an opportunity to entertain a dirty thought in our alone time, or to develop a romantic relationship with someone. In a disturbing choice of language, they called this process “radical amputation.”

Being that I was a sheltered thirteen year old, I wasn’t dating or worrying about having sex. So my classwork consisted of identifying any “impure” thoughts that I had or moments I had, ahem, privately entertained those thoughts.

This would be when Steve would encourage me to call him so I could describe those thoughts to him and receive prayer. Looking back on this as an adult, I can definitely see a creep factor that I was too naive to pick up on at the time.

The so-called “Door of Hope” class didn’t promise that I would turn from gay to straight, but they didn’t rule it out either. They stressed that gay sexual behavior was “sinful,” and my best hope was to push aside all romantic and sexual feelings. Otherwise I would be doomed to a life that was sad, lonely, and unhealthy.

Some of the lessons included in the class referred to homosexuality as “demonic.” They included stories of men that were pedophiles or had committed sex crimes. There was even a bonkers claim that there’s a cult within the gay community that worships male genitalia.

This helped reinforce a toxic belief in me: yes, I was a freak. And in my current state something was wrong with me.

A deep sense of shame washed over me. If I was still attracted to guys, I thought it meant I wasn’t praying hard enough or I wasn’t a good enough person. If I skipped a day of class on the site? That meant I was a failure. And if I thought about wanting another boy to love me? Then I was the ultimate failure.

While the class was only supposed to last 60 days, if we skipped too many days or didn’t have enough “success” we were supposed to start over. And so I did. I would start, then stop. Start, then stop. Over and over, constantly feeling like something was wrong with me as I got more and more depressed.

Depression symptoms that had already been present reached a boiling point. I was angry at myself and hated who I was. Unfulfilled by the extremes the class had already taken me to, I resorted to self injury and became suicidal.

A Window of Opportunity Away from the Door of “Hope”

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One day my mom found Steve’s number on our caller ID and questioned me about who I had spoken to. Finally I told her what was happening. This ended up being the catalyst for me getting the help I needed.

I talked with licensed professionals who weren’t affiliated with the Setting Captives Free ministry that told me exactly what I needed to hear: that I could be proud of who I am as an openly gay man. My parents came with me on this journey, and now accept me for the queer person I am today.

Still, I think about people who went through “The Door of Hope” class that didn’t get that support. What happened to them?

As the years have gone by, I’ve tried to do what I can to hold this ministry accountable for their actions.

In 2013, I alerted the news site Queerty about an app that Setting Captives Free had launched for Apple and Android devices that included “The Door of Hope” class. They ran an article about it and, shortly after, an organization called All Out launched a petition for the tech companies to remove these apps from their app stores.

Eventually the apps were taken down, and after some public pressure, it looked like the Setting Captives Free website was no more as well.

Now after multiple revamps, they are online once again. This time they don’t offer a class that explicitly mentions “freedom from homosexuality.” They do, however, offer a class geared towards “sexual purity” called “Purity Bootcamp.” And their website’s testimonials still mention individuals who claim to have been “set free” from being gay.

When I sent an email asking if they still offered “The Door of Hope” class and could help set someone free from homosexuality, I received a reply saying they could try to help and recommended I take the “Purity Bootcamp” class. The minimum age to get an assigned mentor for this class is 16.

This illustrates the stealthy nature of ex-gay programs today. They might not be in the form of a scary camp from a horror movie. Like Setting Captives Free, they could even be a rebranded ministry that doesn’t mention their “ex-gay” intentions at all.

There have been some important actions taken in recent years to address the harm that these organizations have caused countless queer people like banning conversion therapy for minors. But let’s not forget the organizations that have fallen through the cracks or slipped under the radar. They must be held accountable, too.

About the author:

Matt Davis is a freelance writer and blogger from the Kansas City area. He is the creator of Shall I Stream It?, a website devoted to streaming service news and reviews. You can tweet him nice things here: @MattDavisBlogs

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Matt Davis
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Matt Davis is a freelance writer from the Kansas City area. He is the creator of Shall I Stream It?, a site devoted to streaming service news and reviews.