The first woman I ever slept with was someone I met at church. She was 31; I was 19. I'd never met anyone like her. She was big and beautiful and so smart and wordly. She expanded my view of the world in so many ways. Introduced me to feminism, modern art, politics, literature. Oh, and did I say that she slept with me? I was so deeply smitten by her that I followed her around for the next three or four years, believing that every word she spoke was sacred. Her name wasn't Bee, but that's what I'm going to call her. It fits, as she saw herself very much as the Queen Bee.

At some point a couple of years after I met her, Bee got involved with a church that held some fairly extreme views. They, and she, believed that there were evil spirits lurking about in homes and on inanimate objects which could threaten a good christian's relationship with god. Bee was a smart woman, but when she decided to embrace a belief, she'd embrace it wholeheartedly and hold to it in the face of all logic until she moved on to the next thing. The first casualty of this plague of evil spirts was a series of drawings I'd done of her. They were some of my best work at that time and they'd hung as a group in her living room. They were a gift from me. She threw them all in the dumpster one day when she found herself staring at them. Obviously they had a 'spirit of seduction' on them.

Shortly after that, she refused to let me into her apartment because I was carrying around a 'spirit of lesbianism'. Even though she'd seduced me and slept with me on several occasions, she didn't consider herself a lesbian. She was aware of my feelings for her and I was aware that she didn't return them; nevertheless, I spent lots of time at her apartment and enjoyed her company very much (and I always figured there was a chance she'd take me to bed again), so I was fairly upset when she wouldn't let me in anymore. I asked what I could do to fix things, and she told me I'd have to go and see an exorcist to get the spirit cast out before I'd be allowed back in.

Conveniently, there happened to be an exorcist passing through town the following week. This wasn't a Catholic priest type exorcist, this was some kind of weird hybrid between an evangelist and well...I don't know. A snake handler or something. He was one of those guys who you see on television grabbing people and screaming "come out of her!" He was having a service in Bee's church where he would preach and then cast out demons. I resolved to go see him.

Bee went to the service too, but she wouldn't let me ride with her. I had to go by myself, sit by myself, and not so much as speak to her until I was fresh out of demons. I sat through the preaching part of the service basically feeling bored and fantasizing about how great it was going to be to be allowed back in Bee's house.

I'd like to take a moment here to interject that I did get some therapy later and resolve some of my self-esteem issues.

After the preaching, everyone who wanted a demon cast out was instructed to make a line in front of the door to a church office. I was the first in line. When I went into the office, the Exorcist was in there with an assistant (presumably for those hard-to-remove demons). He asked what I needed cast out and I told him, "a spirit of lesbianism." I said this quietly because I was somewhat ashamed of it. I didn't mention to him that the reason I needed it cast out was so that I would be free to enter the home of the only female lover I'd ever had. Somehow I think he might have doubted my sincerity.

The exorcist grabbed my head, and his assistant put a hand on my shoulder, and they began praying loudly, some in English and some in tongues. Then he started calling for the demon to come out of me. "Come out of her, you filthy spirit of lesbianism! Leave her! In the name of Jesus, come out!" and then "Come out, you spirit of masturbation!" 'Oh my god,' I thought, 'how did they know??' After they got tired of shouting, they'd ask, "Do you feel lighter now?" Twice I shook my head no, and both times they resumed praying and shouting. Finally I realized that if I didn't say "Yes, I feel lighter, praise God," we were going to be there all night. So I professed a lightness I didn't feel and we all praised god and I got the hell out of there.

And I resolved never to value myself so little that I'd put myself through something like that. I did go back in Bee's house after that, but I didn't feel good about what I did to get there. It was also the beginning of the end of my time in church. I started seeing that for me, lesbianism and fundamentalism were mutually exclusive. Maybe some folks can do it, but I can't. And besides, those evil spirits just didn't stay gone long.