Family Systems, Shame, and Sexual Identity: A New Perspective on Being Gay

Looking Back on My Suicide Race

In my memoir My Suicide Race, I wrote about the pivotal moments that I believed shaped me into who I am today. Some chapters were attempts to decode my identity by tracing back through my past.

One chapter, Sea Island, revealed that I came from privilege. I grew up in a beautiful neighborhood, in a family of resources. And yet, despite my circumstances, I began to show proclivities that set me apart from my family and friends.

Another chapter, The Beauty Fort, described the moment my cousin introduced me to sex. At the time I wrote that book—four years ago—I was still married to a woman, grasping for explanations of why I might be gay. That moment felt crucial, the only possible reason I could put into words.

But four years later, after giving countless talks and revisiting the memory over and over, I’ve realized something: I had gotten much of it wrong.

Why Trauma Doesn’t Explain It All

For years, I believed—along with many others—that early sexual encounters like mine were proof of trauma shaping sexuality. Many gay men, after all, have stories of being touched, groomed, or introduced to sex young.

But here’s the question that kept gnawing at me:If these moments were negative, why would someone adopt them into their very identity?

Plenty of painful things happen in childhood, yet we don’t carry all of them forward as defining features of who we are. Most straight boys experiment or have homoerotic curiosity at some point, and it never becomes their identity. So why me? Why so many others?

The Real Wound: Withdrawal of Love

The answer revealed itself in the details I had long overlooked.

When my cousin and I played in the “beauty fort,” I was captivated. I enjoyed it—it was exhilarating, even innocent in its own strange way. But then we called for my brother to join, and the moment he saw us, his face filled with disappointment. That look cut me deeper than anything else that happened.

From that day forward, I felt his love withdraw. And I’ve spent my life yearning for it.

The real choice I made wasn’t whether or not I was gay—it was whether or not I could reveal what I enjoyed without losing the love I most desired. I chose to hide. To become repulsive in my own eyes, because my brother’s approval meant more than my truth.

This wasn’t about abuse. It was about the loss of love. That single fracture echoed through my relationships with my father and, later, with society.

Rethinking Family Systems, Shame, and Sexual Identity: A New Perspective on Being Gay

The torment of the last thirty years didn’t come from my cousin. I’ve never viewed what happened as trauma. It came from the vacuum of love that opened up the moment my brother turned away.

This is where I believe our national conversation is failing. By focusing exclusively on trauma, we unintentionally reinforce the idea that being gay is itself a problem to be explained. The truth is, the real problem lies in family systems that create shame around being gay in the first place. This reality does not need to exist. Every family member plays a role in shaping another’s sense of self, and what might seem like an ordinary moment of disapproval can become a lifelong wound if it severs the flow of love.

We must begin teaching families how vital their love, their touch, and their approval are. Childhood exploration is common. What matters most is whether the family responds with love or with shame.

A Call to Abolish Self-Abnegation

When I wrote My Suicide Race, my attempt to make sense of it sounded like a story of abuse and shame. But I see now that the real wound was not sex—it was separation. Not curiosity—it was condemnation.

And this is where the deepest work must be done. Families rooted in Christian ideals—or any religious framework that preaches self-abnegation, original sin, or the idea that we are born wrong—perpetuate cycles of shame and disconnection. These systems must be abolished at the individual level.

What should replace them? Love. Not conditional love, not approval earned through obedience, but radical, unconditional love. Because no child should ever feel that who they are, or what they enjoy, makes them unworthy of family, of touch, of belonging.

If we are to heal—individually and collectively—we must dismantle the systems of shame that fracture families and replace them with systems of love. Only then can we begin to raise children who are free, whole, and unashamed of their truth. Join me in the fight and share this article if you think this is a movement we need to strive for to increase love in our communities. Let's all work towards Rethinking Family Systems, Shame, and Sexual Identity: A New Perspective on Being Gay

About the Author

Mark A. Turnipseed is an author, wellness coach, and speaker who helps men confront shame, heal trauma, and reclaim their authentic selves through embodied living. His memoir My Suicide Race: Winning Over the Trauma of Addiction, Recovery, and Coming Out was featured in Oprah Daily. Mark’s work blends fitness, spirituality, and self-love into a philosophy of radical embodiment he calls the Break Free Philosophy. Through writing, coaching, and public speaking, he challenges cultural systems of shame while guiding individuals to build their own empires of love and freedom.