The last couple of posts, especially the most recent one, maybe made it sound like I was really, really struggling. That's not entirely true. I shared that last post, I guess, as an example of how difficult this issue of living as a gay Mormon can be.
This is a complex issue. And any decisions that are made, are made within the realm of that complexity.
I've made some new decisions in my life recently. Those decisions bring with them a new and unknown path and journey. But that decision still feels right. Still feels like it's where I need to go. I'm just not sure where everything will fall out, and/or fall into place. That unknown brings a sense of uncertainty. But there is also a measure of peace that I haven't really experienced before. A different kind of peace. A peace that says, even though this is a decision I never thought I'd would make, it's okay. And I'm okay.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Monday, October 28, 2013
Willing To Mourn
I recently read a blog post in which the blogger quoted the words of another gay Mormon. I want to post part of that blog, and the words he quoted here. The full post is here. And while quite long, worth the read.
"Her name is Emily Stephens. She's in her thirties and is a writer. Her coming out was accidental. She responded to a thread on a group called Mormons Building Bridges, and didn't realize it was open to all her Facebook friends to see. Her words are powerful and very direct. In asking where the post came from, she said she was very moved when a non-SSA member was perplexed at some of the harshness that has surrounded the issue of homosexuality in the recent conference. Here are Emily's quotes below:
I could have written much of that post. These words especially touched me: "I am active LDS, served a mission, attend the temple. I love to serve in YWs! I love to pay a full tithe! And, I pray every night that Heavenly Father will be merciful and let me die."
I don't think I've read sadder words in my life. They bring tears to my eyes every time I read them. I could have written those words.
I also very much feel as Emily does about those members who are brave enough to ask the hard questions. To reach out in love even though they don't understand. I have good people like that in my life. And I am very grateful. Especially as I make choice changes that bring me more in line with what I feel is my life's path. Who cry with me because they get a sense of just how difficult this choice is and what loss it certainly will bring with it.
"Her name is Emily Stephens. She's in her thirties and is a writer. Her coming out was accidental. She responded to a thread on a group called Mormons Building Bridges, and didn't realize it was open to all her Facebook friends to see. Her words are powerful and very direct. In asking where the post came from, she said she was very moved when a non-SSA member was perplexed at some of the harshness that has surrounded the issue of homosexuality in the recent conference. Here are Emily's quotes below:
Jann...your post's last statement is so penetrating... "...why would the church put up a website about mormons and gays and it have loving language, but the GA's talk about it with such vileness???"
I am active LDS, served a mission, attend the temple. I love to serve in YWs! I love to pay a full tithe! And, I pray every night that Heavenly Father will be merciful and let me die. I've survived being LDS and gay for 13 years, sometimes barely. I figured it out when I was 22. The messages this weekend conveyed to me exactly what you wrote. I must acknowledge that. I'd like to ignore those talks and only think about Uchtdorf's talk, but I heard their words. My heart has felt their words. They aren't going away. They aren't even new words. It is what has been said for years. I have a testimony of the gospel. So, I don't understand why my church hates me so much. Why do they insist repeatedly that I am vile? Why am I targeted at all? Because I "love" wrong?
I am terrified of people in my stake finding out I am gay. Though I am more than sure they suspect. In the past, I had a loving and compassionate bishop tell me that if people found out, my calling with the youth would be in jeopardy. Just if they found out I am "gay." I have never been kissed in my entire life. Never held hands. I've loved secretly and deeply in my heart, but was taught to do so with the greatest of shame.
It is often suggested that same-sex marriage is the root cause of the degradation of the family--how is that possible? If we are to be discussing vile at Conference, why aren't we talking about pornography, infidelity, deadbeat parents, addictions, abuse, the objectification of women, pregnancy outside of wedlock. And when we discuss those things which truly threaten the family, why aren't we doing so with compassion, asking "how can we help?" instead of the fearful, "how can I isolate my family from the world?"
Jann, I want to praise members like you who are brave enough to ask these questions. I want to thank members who are courageous enough to see the disparity and deeply feel the pain it causes and are willing to succor people like me nonetheless. It is brothers and sisters like you that successfully place my backside in that pew every Sunday to partake of the sacrament. It is you who gives me hope, especially in a place where being willing to see us with compassion is an insurmountable task. God bless you."
I could have written much of that post. These words especially touched me: "I am active LDS, served a mission, attend the temple. I love to serve in YWs! I love to pay a full tithe! And, I pray every night that Heavenly Father will be merciful and let me die."
I don't think I've read sadder words in my life. They bring tears to my eyes every time I read them. I could have written those words.
I also very much feel as Emily does about those members who are brave enough to ask the hard questions. To reach out in love even though they don't understand. I have good people like that in my life. And I am very grateful. Especially as I make choice changes that bring me more in line with what I feel is my life's path. Who cry with me because they get a sense of just how difficult this choice is and what loss it certainly will bring with it.
Friday, October 18, 2013
An Unexpected Answer
If you’ve been following my blog much over the last little
while, you know some of the angst I’ve been feeling – more so lately in the
last year or more.
And over the past week, I’ve experienced a huge shift in focus. A new and unexpected piece to the puzzle of my life.
Something this big can’t, and didn’t just happen overnight. It has been at least two years in the making.
After I turned 40, I remember lying on my bed and thinking, and crying “Is this all that there is for me? If this is what my life, for the next 40 years is going to be like, I don’t want it.” And really, I had only been dealing with these things consciously for the past 10 years. During much of that time, my life has been a roller-coaster of feelings and emotions as I persisted in the idea that the decision I made, once I realized I was gay, to live a celibate life, was the right one. When I found it wasn’t working for me, that I was spiraling downward once again, I figured I just needed to be more patient, have more faith and that it would, eventually, all make sense and get better.
But that day, lying on my bed, I was overwhelmed with the thoughts and feelings of how in the world I was going to squeeze 40 more years out like that – alone, lost, hurting so deeply, confused. I need human connection. I'm not just talking about the few close friendships I have. They are wonderful, to be sure. But they can't, simply by their nature, fill me in the deep, soul connecting ways my soul craves. The need to belong to someone, and them to me. That is what I crave. What I have always craved. What the human soul searches for. And again the idea of living my life in a way that won't allow that made me not want to live my life at all.
But since I thought I had no choice, really, if I were to have the full love and support and acceptance of the Savior that was the only choice I felt I could make. But there was also a huge unbalance there. Because I also knew He wanted me to be happy. To live my life fully. But as I lay there on my bed, I knew I wasn't doing that. And I couldn't see how to do that.
My feelings were often so low, that many times over the past several years, I just wanted to swerve the steering wheel and drive over a cliff. Or hope that some semi would smash into me.
I would rather not be here, than be here persistently feeling this way.
I felt this would certainly be much simpler to deal with on the other side where I didn’t have a body to contend with.
How is that happy? How is that fulfilling? Choosing a life of solitude because I know I can't express certain levels of affection was bringing me more hurt, heart-ache and pain than any peace choosing righteously should have brought me. But I continued in that choice. And really, I didn’t think I could make any other choice, because as hard as it was, I thought for sure it was the right one. The only one. And that I just needed to keep persisting in that, hoping it would get better. Thinking maybe I could find enough peace in remaining separate from the deepest human connection to make it all okay.
Again. Up and down. Over the last two years, more downs than ups. More sorrow than peace. More hurt than joy. More questions than answers. And those answers that did come were always about being patient. The Lord knows me. Trust Him.
Then recently, I had a conversation with a friend that caused me to look once more at this whole issue. I realized I was in a hopeless situation. What I want most, connection, a significant other, someone to love and belong to, could never be a part of my life with the restrictions I had placed on such a relationship. It just couldn’t happen.
And for the first time, I had a reason to really stop and ask and consider what I was doing. What I wanted. What was working and what wasn’t and why. I had to consider if what I had been choosing really was the right thing for me. Was it going to provide me that which had become abundantly clear I needed in my life – that of deep human connection? Of being truly and completely open and honest with myself?
For the first time, two choices became very clear to me - choose to open myself up to the possibility of a relationship and be in that fully, no restrictions, no boundaries. Or choose to stay single and celibate. Because trying to do both, have a fully connected relationship, while trying to remain celibate, wasn’t working. Rather, I was feeling more hurt, sadness, loss, anxiety, confusion and fear. None of which stems from the Savior.
So, I had a long conversation with the Lord not too long ago. Well, what really happened is He sent me over three hours worth of thoughts, ideas and impressions, with me asking a question here and there. I learned a lot of things that night, most of which I won't share, because they feel too personal to me. But what I did come away with, that I can and need to share is that the Lord knows how much I desire human connection. He also knows I am gay, that I always have been, that it wasn't something I chose, so I can't choose any course of action to reverse that. He knows I love Him. That I crave and seek His peace. And I haven't been very good at feeling that to the level I once did. He knows my heart. He knows my soul. He knows it better than I do. So while it wasn't unexpected to receive an answer from Him, the answer I did receive was unexpected.
I'm still sitting with it. Considering it and all that it entails. If I hadn't experienced it for myself, in addition to other confirming experiences, I wouldn't have believed it - not for me anyway. I could believe this answer for someone else, but not for me. And yet, here it was.
If I want to have a meaningful relationship in my life, and if the opportunity comes into my life, my choice now is to pursue that, and all that it entails. By doing so does not mean I have lost my testimony. It does not mean I love the Lord any less. On the contrary, I feel like I can more fully and honestly serve Him by living my full, complete self. Not just spiritually, but emotionally and physically.
This is a huge shift for me, so I've continued sitting with these thoughts and feelings. Recognizing and preparing for the inevitable loss that will most likely come with this decision. I will move on and forward with my life as I have always done. But now with a different focus to any potential and future relationships. The hope of having such a relationship has been opened up to me with the removal of the boundaries that would have kept something like that away.
And, as a friend of mine recently said: “There can be really tough things with which we are dealing or troubles we are going through, but when we know God has our back, there is an element of peace knowing we are in His hands and following a path He has endorsed for us.”
How much more true that feels when we realize the path he has endorsed for us is not what we thought it was all along.
And over the past week, I’ve experienced a huge shift in focus. A new and unexpected piece to the puzzle of my life.
Something this big can’t, and didn’t just happen overnight. It has been at least two years in the making.
After I turned 40, I remember lying on my bed and thinking, and crying “Is this all that there is for me? If this is what my life, for the next 40 years is going to be like, I don’t want it.” And really, I had only been dealing with these things consciously for the past 10 years. During much of that time, my life has been a roller-coaster of feelings and emotions as I persisted in the idea that the decision I made, once I realized I was gay, to live a celibate life, was the right one. When I found it wasn’t working for me, that I was spiraling downward once again, I figured I just needed to be more patient, have more faith and that it would, eventually, all make sense and get better.
But that day, lying on my bed, I was overwhelmed with the thoughts and feelings of how in the world I was going to squeeze 40 more years out like that – alone, lost, hurting so deeply, confused. I need human connection. I'm not just talking about the few close friendships I have. They are wonderful, to be sure. But they can't, simply by their nature, fill me in the deep, soul connecting ways my soul craves. The need to belong to someone, and them to me. That is what I crave. What I have always craved. What the human soul searches for. And again the idea of living my life in a way that won't allow that made me not want to live my life at all.
But since I thought I had no choice, really, if I were to have the full love and support and acceptance of the Savior that was the only choice I felt I could make. But there was also a huge unbalance there. Because I also knew He wanted me to be happy. To live my life fully. But as I lay there on my bed, I knew I wasn't doing that. And I couldn't see how to do that.
My feelings were often so low, that many times over the past several years, I just wanted to swerve the steering wheel and drive over a cliff. Or hope that some semi would smash into me.
I would rather not be here, than be here persistently feeling this way.
I felt this would certainly be much simpler to deal with on the other side where I didn’t have a body to contend with.
How is that happy? How is that fulfilling? Choosing a life of solitude because I know I can't express certain levels of affection was bringing me more hurt, heart-ache and pain than any peace choosing righteously should have brought me. But I continued in that choice. And really, I didn’t think I could make any other choice, because as hard as it was, I thought for sure it was the right one. The only one. And that I just needed to keep persisting in that, hoping it would get better. Thinking maybe I could find enough peace in remaining separate from the deepest human connection to make it all okay.
Again. Up and down. Over the last two years, more downs than ups. More sorrow than peace. More hurt than joy. More questions than answers. And those answers that did come were always about being patient. The Lord knows me. Trust Him.
Then recently, I had a conversation with a friend that caused me to look once more at this whole issue. I realized I was in a hopeless situation. What I want most, connection, a significant other, someone to love and belong to, could never be a part of my life with the restrictions I had placed on such a relationship. It just couldn’t happen.
And for the first time, I had a reason to really stop and ask and consider what I was doing. What I wanted. What was working and what wasn’t and why. I had to consider if what I had been choosing really was the right thing for me. Was it going to provide me that which had become abundantly clear I needed in my life – that of deep human connection? Of being truly and completely open and honest with myself?
For the first time, two choices became very clear to me - choose to open myself up to the possibility of a relationship and be in that fully, no restrictions, no boundaries. Or choose to stay single and celibate. Because trying to do both, have a fully connected relationship, while trying to remain celibate, wasn’t working. Rather, I was feeling more hurt, sadness, loss, anxiety, confusion and fear. None of which stems from the Savior.
So, I had a long conversation with the Lord not too long ago. Well, what really happened is He sent me over three hours worth of thoughts, ideas and impressions, with me asking a question here and there. I learned a lot of things that night, most of which I won't share, because they feel too personal to me. But what I did come away with, that I can and need to share is that the Lord knows how much I desire human connection. He also knows I am gay, that I always have been, that it wasn't something I chose, so I can't choose any course of action to reverse that. He knows I love Him. That I crave and seek His peace. And I haven't been very good at feeling that to the level I once did. He knows my heart. He knows my soul. He knows it better than I do. So while it wasn't unexpected to receive an answer from Him, the answer I did receive was unexpected.
I'm still sitting with it. Considering it and all that it entails. If I hadn't experienced it for myself, in addition to other confirming experiences, I wouldn't have believed it - not for me anyway. I could believe this answer for someone else, but not for me. And yet, here it was.
If I want to have a meaningful relationship in my life, and if the opportunity comes into my life, my choice now is to pursue that, and all that it entails. By doing so does not mean I have lost my testimony. It does not mean I love the Lord any less. On the contrary, I feel like I can more fully and honestly serve Him by living my full, complete self. Not just spiritually, but emotionally and physically.
This is a huge shift for me, so I've continued sitting with these thoughts and feelings. Recognizing and preparing for the inevitable loss that will most likely come with this decision. I will move on and forward with my life as I have always done. But now with a different focus to any potential and future relationships. The hope of having such a relationship has been opened up to me with the removal of the boundaries that would have kept something like that away.
And, as a friend of mine recently said: “There can be really tough things with which we are dealing or troubles we are going through, but when we know God has our back, there is an element of peace knowing we are in His hands and following a path He has endorsed for us.”
How much more true that feels when we realize the path he has endorsed for us is not what we thought it was all along.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
A Private Conversation Inside My Head
I'm inviting you in. Please tread lightly.
Here's the thing - I will never be attracted to guys. I've tried. I really have. It's just not there. I didn't come wired that way. Therefore, I could never have a truly fulfilling, meaningful relationship with one. Not the way a soul craves.
So, I guess, ultimately I have two choices regarding future relationships with women:
Here's the thing - I will never be attracted to guys. I've tried. I really have. It's just not there. I didn't come wired that way. Therefore, I could never have a truly fulfilling, meaningful relationship with one. Not the way a soul craves.
So, I guess, ultimately I have two choices regarding future relationships with women:
Do I want a companion? For life? Do I want that ultimate connection that can exist between two people? Emotional, spiritual, physical, soulful? If so, I need to be able to go all in.
If I can't go all in, then I need to be okay with being single. Because asking someone I care the world about to keep up boundaries on what can and can't happen is just not fair. I know this from painful experience. If there are boundaries on affection it is extremely damaging to the relationship, damaging to the other person, and frankly, can't last.
Either choice will mean sacrificing something deeply important to me. Neither choice comes without heartache, pain, loss. But this choice I must make. It's the choice that all gay and lesbian members of the church must make. There is no good answer.
Arguments for the first choice are generally reinforced with thoughts of the ultimate human connection and experience.
Arguments for the second choice are generally reinforced with thoughts of eternity, and covenants.
However, both arguments will and do ultimately rely on the atonement of Jesus Christ. And least in that there is some hope and comfort.
Oh to be straight and not be faced with questions like this.
If I can't go all in, then I need to be okay with being single. Because asking someone I care the world about to keep up boundaries on what can and can't happen is just not fair. I know this from painful experience. If there are boundaries on affection it is extremely damaging to the relationship, damaging to the other person, and frankly, can't last.
Either choice will mean sacrificing something deeply important to me. Neither choice comes without heartache, pain, loss. But this choice I must make. It's the choice that all gay and lesbian members of the church must make. There is no good answer.
Arguments for the first choice are generally reinforced with thoughts of the ultimate human connection and experience.
Arguments for the second choice are generally reinforced with thoughts of eternity, and covenants.
However, both arguments will and do ultimately rely on the atonement of Jesus Christ. And least in that there is some hope and comfort.
Oh to be straight and not be faced with questions like this.
Friday, October 11, 2013
Why I Stay
I've had a ... thing. A thought. Mulling around in the back of my mind for quite a while now. I wasn't really aware it was there, but when it finally found actual words, ideas, I realized it had been there a while.
Especially the last week or so, it has come more clearly to the forefront of my mind. It was framed as a question. Not only by outside influences, but by my own inner-self.
Why do I stay? A part of and actively participating in the church?
As I've tried to answer that question, not just for others, but ultimately for myself, sometimes, most times, I couldn't think of a really compelling reason. Other than it feels like where I belong. Well, just in the last few days, I feel like I may have my compelling reason.
I am just as gay...actually maybe more so (is that possible?) than I've ever been, but...
I stay because:
1) Things need to change in people's hearts. That change cannot come by forces pushing against members of the church. It has to, is most effective when, it comes from the inside. If, as a 40-year, faithful member of the church, I leave, my potential influence for some kind of good is mostly lost. I would then be living only for myself. I must be too generous of a person to let that be okay. So I stay to help change hearts.
2) I deeply, truly, honestly love the Lord with all that I am. I feel like He wants me to stay. Even as imperfect, and sometimes extremely hurtful, and soul-wrenchingly difficult things within the church can sometimes be, He wants me to stay. Maybe its because of what I wrote above. I don't know. But I love the Lord. So I stay.
I don't know where my life will take me. I don't know that I will always be an "upstanding member" of the church. Because of my feelings about marriage equality, I may one day lose my Temple Recommend. I don't know the future.
But I do know that right now I'm staying. I'm here. And I'm happy.
Especially the last week or so, it has come more clearly to the forefront of my mind. It was framed as a question. Not only by outside influences, but by my own inner-self.
Why do I stay? A part of and actively participating in the church?
As I've tried to answer that question, not just for others, but ultimately for myself, sometimes, most times, I couldn't think of a really compelling reason. Other than it feels like where I belong. Well, just in the last few days, I feel like I may have my compelling reason.
I am just as gay...actually maybe more so (is that possible?) than I've ever been, but...
I stay because:
1) Things need to change in people's hearts. That change cannot come by forces pushing against members of the church. It has to, is most effective when, it comes from the inside. If, as a 40-year, faithful member of the church, I leave, my potential influence for some kind of good is mostly lost. I would then be living only for myself. I must be too generous of a person to let that be okay. So I stay to help change hearts.
2) I deeply, truly, honestly love the Lord with all that I am. I feel like He wants me to stay. Even as imperfect, and sometimes extremely hurtful, and soul-wrenchingly difficult things within the church can sometimes be, He wants me to stay. Maybe its because of what I wrote above. I don't know. But I love the Lord. So I stay.
I don't know where my life will take me. I don't know that I will always be an "upstanding member" of the church. Because of my feelings about marriage equality, I may one day lose my Temple Recommend. I don't know the future.
But I do know that right now I'm staying. I'm here. And I'm happy.
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