Knitting a Soul

(Initially put to paper July 8, 2015)

I know I need to write. I just don't know that I have the words for it.

I feel deep loss. I have been depressed for the past 3 or 4 weeks. I was doing fairly well for about a month after my excommunication, but then I began to feel myself sinking into a place of hurt. Soul loss.

I am having a hard time finding connection, on a spiritual level. I am having a hard time finding meaning and balance in my life again. What once was my stability, my guide, that with which I weighed and measured my life is no longer a part of it. I know I am more than my church. But for my entire life, it was the lens through which I saw the world, found value and purpose - through the guidance, teachings and directions my membership in the church pointed me.

There are things within the church I would be happy to give up, and things I need and want to hang on to. But if you were to ask me to name what those things are, I'm not sure I could. Familiarity? Community? Tradition? Stability? I don't know how to hang onto the good, and let go of the hurtful.

I wish I could just make a clean break. Push it aside and away from me. Let it go. But I'm not ready to do that. There is something holding me here. Something I can't let go of.

I worry I will get bitter and cynical. Those things don't look or feel good on me. But I feel I could easily slip into those feelings.

My loyalty is to my Savior. I've just never had to try to experience Him separate from the LDS Church. I fear letting go of something (the Church) that might, at some future time, be what I need it to be for me again. What it once was for me. But I am also appreciating the feeling of  not worrying about or answering to an organization. Answering only to myself and my Savior. What does He want from me? What do I want from me? If I cut ties with the church on an emotional and physical level, will my relationship with my Savior suffer? Will I lose more of myself than I have already?

How do I find myself outside of the confines by which I once defined myself? How do I move to find myself without losing myself?

Less of Me

My meeting on Sunday with the Bishopric has come and gone. It went about as expected. The Bishopric sat and listened as I read them my thoughts. When I was finished, they sat quietly and considered for a good three or four minutes before asking just four questions. All regarding the Law of Chastity, Temple covenants, and my intentions going forward.

Ultimately, the decision was excommunication....My heart is broken....

While it wasn't unexpected, it is still very painful. There truly is a little less of me.

Over the past two days, while I've been distracted, I've dealt with this okay. However, today, I found myself without any distractions, and I sobbed. My broken heart sobbed. I drove up one of our beautiful canyons and sat looking out over the views while I cried and thought.

I have been excommunicated. Ripped from my community. It's extremely painful, hurtful. Removed from my community because of who I am. Who I love. Who I choose to spend my life with. I have been removed from the church because of love. 

While my relationship with and feelings about the church have changed over the past few years, it's still my home. The place I have gained so much from and given so much to. I hurt and mourn as if I've lost a loved one. Lost part of myself. Because I have.

I've been told that this doesn't change who I am. But it does change how I feel, which does/can change who I am. But I hope, ultimately, the change is for the better. That I become a better person; more compassionate, understanding, gentle, kind. More giving. More loving. More aware of others and their needs, hurts, feelings. More Christlike. Closer to my Savior simply for the sake of my relationship with Him, and not because it's expected of me to strive to become so. More focused on giving of myself to others. Not because I've been assigned to serve them, but simply and purely because I love them.

If I can become a more caring, honest, compassionate person because of this, then, perhaps it will have been worth it.

If I can come closer to my Savior because of this, then perhaps the hurt and pain can be turned into peace and joy. Hope and comfort.

"Less of me", then, could also be expressed in the lyrics of the following song:

Let me be a little kinder
Let me be a little blinder
To the faults of those about me
Let me praise a little more

Let me be when I am weary
Just a little bit more cheery
Think a little more of others
And a little less of me

Let me be a little braver
When temptation bids me waver
Let me strive a little harder
To be all that I should be

Let me be a little meeker
With the brother that is weaker
Let me think more of my neighbor
And a little less of me

Let me be when I am weary
Just a little bit more cheery
Let me serve a little better
Those that I am striving for

Let me be a little meeker
With the brother that is weaker
Think a little more of others
And a little less of me

-Glen Campbell

Christ-like Love

The past several days I have been experiencing an existential crisis. Truly. It was so convoluted that it was making me crazy. At times, I was so full of despair that I couldn't think of any way out except ending my life.

To try and make sense of it all, I sat down last night and typed three pages of thoughts. Back and forth, spiraling thoughts. Nothing felt more clear after three pages of trying to find clarity. So I just quit writing and decided the only thing I could do was to try and live in my heart. Try to let my heart sort out what my head certainly could not.

Today was better overall, but still questions. This morning the root of my real struggle occurred to me. I texted Kim: “I don’t feel unconditional love from the Lord.... I feel “I love you, but...” I feel “I want to bless you, but...”

That played in my mind and heart all day. I was amazed that after all this time, my entire life, with so many amazing experiences with the Spirit, that deep down, I still believed God’s love for me was based on my performance, my attempts at obedience, etc. In thinking about praying to Him and asking for help, in the back of my mind, I thought “He can’t/won't help you. You aren’t living the way He wants you to.”

My entire life I’ve based my worth and other’s ability to love me on how well I was living up to their expectations. If I felt any kind of disappointment from them, it would wreck me inside, and I would do all I could to fix the situation. And that idea carried over to God as well. 

So all day, I pondered on that. This morning I listened to a couple of recent conference talks. While driving around for work, I listened to Christian music on the radio. Just trying to get my heart right in order to find some kind of peace and answers. 

Later this afternoon, I watched an “I’ll Walk With You” video. In it, the mother was talking about her interactions with a lesbian woman who was in a relationship with a woman. And this mother was so concerned. She intended to talk to her and exhort her to a different path. But one day she hugged this other woman, and was immediately touched and filled with the spirit that expressed to her that the Lord loved this lesbian woman purely, perfectly and deeply. And that was all. No feelings of disappointment, or encouragement to this mother to try and change her. Just pure, deep, unconditional love.

That video touched me.

When I got home, the sun was just beginning to set, so I decided I would drive to a nice open spot to watch it. I started pulling a few weeds first from the front rock garden, and as I did I was taught. Just as the Lord absolutely, perfectly, and purely loved this lesbian woman, He loves me. All of the “I’ll Walk With You”videos that feature parents with gay children – all of them, every one that turned to Lord to know what to do, received the same message: Love them. Why? Because God loves them absolutely, and perfectly.

And He let me know, right there, pulling weeds, that He loves me the exact same way.

As I got in my car and began driving to the causeway, other thoughts came to my mind. The Lord has a purpose in all He does. And one of His purposes for me is to help teach other people, other followers of Christ specifically, how to love more deeply and more unconditionally, more Christ-like. Simply by being me, being who I am. Gay and Mormon. He loves others as much as He love me. And He wants to help them learn how to love as He does. It’s my job to Love as Christ does. To serve His children. And to give them an opportunity to turn to Christ and practice loving in return.  Its my job to love those who struggle to love me.

So when someone has a hard time with who I am, or the choices I make, that’s just all part of the process. Rather than take that to heart and make it about me, I realized today, it's just part of their journey. And to love and be so glad they have the opportunity to grow and stretch, and that I can be a part of that.

Every one of us has our own journeys. To compare mine to someone else's is not only not helpful, but just plain wrong.

It’s my job to be who I am – confidently. And to allow others their journey of learning to embrace the pure love of Christ.

So, truly and honestly, everything really will be okay. My path is my own. It is unique. It is not spelled out in church doctrine. But it is real, true, ordained of God, and mine.

I cried with joy as these realizations filled my heart. God is so good.

Dear Lord, help me remember.

No More Goodbyes

Today I finished reading "No More Goodbyes" by Carol Lynn Pearson. Since I first opened this book and began reading, I've been filled with so many thoughts, feelings, impressions, emotions. Most of which I will probably never have adequate words to be able to express.

I'm touched. Saddened. Filled with hope. Filled with hurt. I marvel at the goodness of so many, and equally at the level of rejection by others.

I have some loved ones who I desperately want to read this book, with a hope that their understanding of me, and others will increase. That they will be able to see the decisions I make, and look on them with compassion, love and understanding, rather than with hurt, heartbreak and judgement. 

For the past two months I've been sitting with and letting sink in a decision I made about the path and direction of my life. So much of this book put into words a great deal of what I have felt and experienced. There is one quote, one thought expressed towards the end that I think summarizes my own life and experiences very well. It summarizes what I have come to realize for myself.

I knew that my purpose for being on this earth was not to be shut down emotionally, physically, and spiritually as I had been, but to be fully present and fully giving and loving in a committed relationship.

My emotions have been very close to the surface lately as I've tried to internalize these and so many other things. I am generally  not a very deep thinker, and these past couple of months have worn me out. I'm ready to move on, and just get on with my life. I don't know what that really looks like. But really, who does? I do know that I have a deep need and longing for connection. Emotional, spiritual, physical connection.

So I open that door and then move forward with my life the best way I know how. 

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:

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.

 

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.

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:

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. 

How Many Times?

It happens pretty  much without fail. Every time I hit a new low, like is demonstrated in the previous post, I reach out in some way to the Lord. I write out my frustrations. I pray very honestly. And every time I reach out to Him, I find He is there reaching back. And once again I feel the reassurance, hope and love of His spirit envelope me like a blanket. And everything is okay again.

I love this song by Plumb. I've prayed these words many times in my life.

Still Here

Yes. I'm still here.

This blog has been on my mind a lot lately, though I haven't had a lot I've needed to add. So it continues to sit un-updated.

But recently, I read another blog post that really spoke to me and touched me. So I thought I would link it here. I highly, strongly, really, really encourage you to go read it.

The Montgomery's have a son who recently came out to them. They are amazing parents and have been very open and  honest in the way they've struggled and learned to deal with this very complex issue.

Just in case you decide you just don't want to click on that link above, let me quote part of it.

"The [LDS] Church is acknowledging that the answers to homosexuality are far more complex than any of the answers they have provided in the past. Twice [on the website www.mormonsandgays.org] homosexuality is referred to as complex. For those who are living this reality, this probably seems like an understatement. But for members on the outside with no experience with such matters and no personal relationships with someone who is gay it seems cut and dry. They have very simple, easy, primary level answers for your life. Here are many of the simplistic answers we have heard from members of the Church:

Just pray harder and it will go away. We personally had two LDS Social Services therapists and members of our local Church leadership tell us that by just increasing our faith and the sincerity of our prayers, our son’s homosexuality would go away. No amount of prayer can change God’s will for someone’s life?

Everyone is expected to live the same law of chastity. If by living the same law you mean comparing being chaste before marriage to never being able to express any sexual desire for the entirety of your life, then no. The law of Chastity has completely different implications for the lives of LGBT individuals. This law is definitely not equal in its application.

Living celibate is no different than single members who never marry. No. One is living with hope and the ability to express and receive love even if it never matures to a marriage. The other is the suppression of every sexual desire and being taught that such desires are wrong and of the devil.

Being gay is just another temptation in life like a disposition to alcohol, drugs or violence. This was actually taught in at a stake youth event by our local Church leaders. This line of thinking begins with the assumption of deviancy in LGBT people. Another local Church leader counseled us that my 13 year old gay son should not share a room with his 7 year old brother, because heaven forbid what he might do to him. Being different does not make you inherently evil.

Being gay is only a condition of this life. You were not gay before and will be fixed in the afterlife. I am not sure if there is a more destructive theology. It teaches that you are fundamentally broken and cannot be fixed until the afterlife. Yet in all other respects, who we are and the character we develop and the intelligence we gain in this life all proceed with us to the next life. Except being gay. At best this is a flawed philosophy with no scriptural or moral basis."

Now, again, for the full story, please go read the blog post. 

Conference Weekend

Let me preface this by saying I have not lost, nor am I losing my testimony. I'm just frustrated.

I am writing this to shed some light on why some of what was said during conference this weekend was hard, and hurtful. Even though same-sex attraction and the issues surrounding that weren't spoken about outright, it was alluded to several times.

The weekend started out rough. I blurbed a little about it on facebook, but because I hadn't seen any of the Saturday sessions, I couldn't speak fully to what was said. But that little fb posting got a lot of attention. Many people messaged me personally, seeking to reassure me that all would be well, that I am a good person, and that God loves me. I really do appreciate that support, although those are things I never doubted.

I also got some great feedback from folks seeking to give comfort with the whole marriage thing - I guess based on my comment, they assumed I wish I could be married, to a man? I don't know. But marriage in and of itself is also not an issue for me. I support marriage and the family. I know I will never marry a man. And I am so okay with that. I will probably also never marry a woman. And I am okay with that as well. But here is what does bother me. Statements that say or imply things like, sexual intimacy is the supreme and ultimate connection in a marriage. It is the most wonderful blessing in a relationship. But sorry. It's only for straight people. If you are gay, and happen to fall in love, too bad for you. Just push those feelings away and stay single and celibate (and miserable). Or try harder to root out the natural man, in this case, your gay- ness. Because the only appropriate relationship is that between a man and a woman. Anything else is an abomination. Which means the way you feel and experience love is an abomination. That's what's hard. (Sorry, I know that is a little cynical, which doesn't suit me. But I do feel that way sometimes.)

Now, if you are still of the mind-set that what gay people are asked to do, in remaining celebate, is no different than what straight single people are asked to do, let me know. I will try and explain how and why those two situations are very, very different.

So when someone stands at the pulpit and expounds on the wonders and blessings found within the bonds of marriage, and that the only appropriate way to experience those blessings is with a spouse of the opposite sex, it truly feels like a slap in the face. To quote from my facebook thread: "What Wendy (and I and many others) is being asked to do is to eschew the very thing everyone else is being encouraged to seek out, because it is one of the greatest gifts The Lord has given us. She deserves more respect and admiration than one can imagine. Because many of us, myself included, can't do it anymore. Especially in light of the demonizing of what we feel." 

Yes, what we feel has been demonized by oh so many. And then we hear over and over and over again that what we experience and the needs and longings we have are not right, and will never qualify for blessings here and now that so many others experience. That is frustrating. That is hard. And it causes me to sometimes rant a little.

Now, lest you think my entire weekend was full of bitterness and hurt, it was not. Or if you worry that I am totally without hope, I am not. Here is what I gained from the Sunday talks:

* Hold fast to the hope that is in God. Walk towards the hope of a brighter life. God's light is real. It can heal the deepest wounds, enlighten the deepest valleys of sorrow. It takes an act of faith to open our eyes to the hope of God's light. Darkness exists, but light exists also. Choose to walk in the light.

Hold to the ground you have won. Stand strong until additional knowledge comes. This is a divine work in progress. Be kind regarding human frailty. Fan the flames of your faith whatever doubts and questions you have.*

So I ask myself. Why do I stay? Even when there continues to be so much hurt with this issue steming from individulas who should be supportive, welcoming, sensative, and compassionate? I stay because some do show that sensative compassion.  And I stay, because I know those things I wrote above are true. Because the gospel of Jesus Christ is bigger than any individual. And my relationship with my Heavenly Father and the Savior are extremely and intimitatly personal. I stay, and I love and I continue to find hope, and seek to walk by faith because that is what my Savior wants me to do.

And in the end, that is all any of us can do. Live our lives the best we can according to our own, individual relationship with the Savior.

Survivors Guilt

Or something like that. In order to address this post topic, I have to back up a ways. Sorry for the round-about way to get to where I want to take you.

I have never questioned my faith. I have never questioned the counsel and policies of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I have never questioned my testimony. I have always been strong and steady. My faith has always been rooted in Christ. I have always enjoyed attending church and mingling my faith with those around me.

So why, a few months ago, did all of that begin to feel shaky, uncertain, and uprooted? Why did attending church become a chore that left me feeling worse than ever? Why did I feel lost, forgotten, not understood? Why did I find it so, so hard to feel the comfort of the Holy Ghost? Why did I suddenly feel that as a gay Latter-Day Saint, I was less than, left out, on the outskirts, alone? Why did my burden suddenly feel so much greater than it ever had before? And why could I not find reconciliation with any of that as I always had before?

I searched my mind and my heart for answers.

What came to me were simple things that only made a small, and temporary difference: focus on my blessings, what I have, rather than what I feel I lack; remember the answers I have received; work on trusting and having faith in the Savior again; etc.

I thought often about how much simpler this would be to deal with on the "other side", and silently hoped for some tragic accident to take me there.

Thankfully I'm still here.

Because tiny miracles have begun to happen in my life.

I outed myself on facebook. A blessing in and of itself. Suddenly, I became known more fully and more completely by people who thought they already knew me. Because of that, I began to feel seen again in nearly every circle of my life, and I began to notice the care and love others feel and felt for me. And slowly, my comfort level in church began to grow again.

With that, other shaky areas of my life (spiritual and otherwise) began to stabilize again. Like that tattered cloth I blogged about a while ago.

Elder Bednar, of the Quorum of Twelve Apostles, came to our Stake Conference and shared simple but powerful messages, and bore a powerful testimony. And I recognized that I felt the spirit in a way I hadn't for far too long.

Sometime around then a simple, not fully developed thought, or impression came to me. There aren't really even words to express it, but the message it brought was something like: "You've been resisting the spirit, joy and hope from your own life, so that you too could struggle in ways others with this issue struggle; so it wouldn't seem so simple and straightforward to deal with this very complex and difficult issue of begin gay and Mormon."

In other words, if I'm too hopeful and too full of the spirit then how can it really be that hard?

That idea shocked me, but also felt absolutely correct.

I am gay. I am emotionally and physically attracted to women. No doubt about that. But my attractions aren't really sexual in nature.When I notice an attraction to someone, it is all purely physical (appearance), or emotional. My desires for connection with someone are about emotional connection, deep sharing, companionship, mental, physical, and emotional closeness. But rarely have those connection desires been sexual.

So because I have no libido, keeping the Law of Chastity (no sexual relations outside of marriage, and that as defined between a man and a woman) has been quite simple for me. Even while in a 7 + year relationship with someone, we were celibate. And as it turns out, that was much easier for me to maintain than it was for her.

So several months ago, when a dear friend of mine was excommunicated for engaging in a sexual relationship with her girlfriend, after striving for over a decade to maintain her standard of chastity, my eyes were opened to the depth of this struggle for the majority of gay Mormons. What is relatively simple for me to maintain, can be excruciatingly difficult for so many others who love the Lord and His gospel, but are absolutely and fully attracted to the same gender in every possible way. And while being gay isn't just about sex any more than being straight is, for the majority of the world, sexual connection is a deep and meaningful means of connection and sharing.When my eyes were fully opened to that dilemma, my heart shut. And my struggle increased.

Subconsciously, I resisted being fully supported by the spirit and having absolute faith in the Gospel and Savior, in living my life with peace, hope and faith, because I did not want others to look at me and use me as an example of how other gay Mormons could and should live their lives. This is the realization I received. I felt guilty that my attractions were such that living the Law of Chastity was a non-issue for me, and therefor, I was able to fully participate in every aspect of the Church and the Gospel while so many others struggled deeply and painfully with that.

The idea of being an example of hope and faithful endurance when my struggle is significantly different, was enough to drive a wedge between me and my faith. I (subconsciously) needed to struggle and feel the depth of pain that others feel with this complicated and contradicting issue. And I did. And my heart broke. And my faith waned. And I felt anger at those who could not see the intense struggle this issue presents. And this anger destabilized me. Hence, the answer to the third paragraph above.

That anger and resistance continued for several months. 

After that first eye-opening impression came to me, I just let it mull around in the back of my mind, weighing it for accuracy. I might have forgotten about it, except it came again just a few days ago: "You've been resisting the spirit, joy and hope from your own life, so that you too could struggle in ways others with this issue struggle; so it wouldn't seem so simple and straightforward to deal with this very complex and difficult issue of begin gay and Mormon." But this time a little bit more was added: "You  have resisted the hope and goodness that fills your life, you have resisted being a source of light and faith, of being the woman of God that you are because you didn't want to make light of this very real struggle. But its time now to turn that around. It's time to bring that light and hope back into your life."

And so I'm trying. But I do it hesitantly because the fear and the guilt are still there that my path in dealing with this issue is made easier by my lack of sexual attraction. I loath the idea that someone will compare me and my "success" in staying true to gospel standards, with someone else who is struggling deeply to do the same thing.

Please don't use me as an example.

Unless it is an example that even though there is still heartache and hurt and questions, I can choose to let that rule my life as I have done, or I can put those things into the hands of the Savior and instead fill my life with hope, faith, beauty, joy and light. And knowing even when I do that, the heartache and struggle in life probably won't change, but I can still put my faith in the Savior that everything really will work out and I can focus on the good in life.

Or if it's as an example of the truth that every individual is unique and different, and they can, by following the spirit to the best of their ability, find the path and the life that is right for them, however different it may be to the one I am living.

And that's the message.

A Whiny Moment

Alfred Lord Tennyson once penned:

'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

When I'm having a personal pitty party, I would have to say that I don't agree with that. At least not completely.

The love I have for my family I would never, ever trade. The love I have for dear and wonderful friends sinks deep into my soul. The love I've felt for "that one", I treasure. And yet it is in this particular regard that I question that quote. Because now, instead of just wishing and wondering what it would be like, I know. And therefor I know what I'm missing. I know what I will likely never have again. And that, that feeling leaves me wishing at times that I had never known that level of love. 

And yet, if I had it to do all over again, I think I would make the same choice because of the joy and the connection I felt. Because I was a part of something that truly had meaning, value, and connection.


I guess I'm thinking sometimes ignorance really is bliss.

Pitty party over.

Finding Peace in Truth

I'm not sure I'm in the right frame of mind to be writing this post. But I have also been praying to feel more connected, to feel more whole and complete, to recognize my blessings, to know the Lord's will for me. And as I sat here just a bit ago writing in my journal, and then catching up on facebook, the idea of writing this post came to me. So I'm following up on that thought.

I'm not even sure I know what I want to say or how to say it.

But if you are here at my blog reading this (for the first time), you likely also read the "about me" section and blog description. So I guess it's kind of already been said.

Many people in my life know I'm gay. My family knows and a few close friends, as well as some acquaintances in the "gay community" and elsewhere. But for the most part, I'm still mostly closeted. I don't share that part of my life much. I don't particularly hide it, but I also don't usually bring it up in conversation even if the timing feels okay. Why that is, I'm not entirely sure. Those who do know have been absolutely, amazingly wonderful. Thank you. However, fear of rejection is certainly still there.  Fear of trying to explain that although I am indeed gay, I am also very happily active LDS and live those standards the best I can.

So, yeah. It can get complicated. And sometimes I just don't want to try and explain all that. And then there's that little nagging thing that comes up for me much too often - fear of being judged, or worse, misjudged. Judged by the LDS community for being gay. Judged by the gay community for remaining active LDS. However, I guess if someone wants/needs to judge, that's none of my business.

So, despite that fear, I felt it was time to publicly "out"  myself. For what reason, I don't fully know. What I do know is this:

• I am a daughter of God. He knows and loves me exactly the way I am. 
• The Savior does indeed live. He has called prophets and apostles in this time (as in times of old) to lead and carry forth His Church and Gospel to the world. 
• Joseph Smith did indeed see God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ in the flesh. Through him, the Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ was brought to light, and Christ's church was fully restored to the Earth.
• I am not, nor have I ever been attracted to men. But oh how I've tried. I've tried and tried, because it would sure make life a lot easier. Alas...
• For whatever reason, I am a gay woman.  

And believe it or not, that has been one of the most amazing blessings in my life. Because it has caused me to seek out my Savior time and time and time again. My relationship with Him has been strengthened as I have struggled to make sense of the life before me. There are still so many things I don't know. So much that still brings hurt and heartache. But I love and trust in the Lord. He is my strength. He is my redeemer. His spirit brings peace in the most unlikely times and places.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you."

Roses of Life

In my front yard I have a few rose bushes. When I first moved into my house, I thought they were pretty ugly and ratty. Then they bloomed. And the one that I thought looked the ugliest and rattiest, actually produced roses that were the most wonderful smelling things I had ever experienced.

I would stop by that rose bush every day on my way to and from my house. And with that, I adopted the idea of stopping to smell the roses of life. Not just the physical roses, but those things in life that bring peace, comfort, happiness, stillness, feelings of goodness, etc. It's amazing to recognize that there really is something to celebrate in every day.

Every day may not be good, but there's something good in every day.   ~Author Unknown

After too long a time not noticing those roses, it's time once again to celebrate all that life has to offer. 

Too many of my posts lately have focused on something less than positive. And that attitude does not look good on me. It doesn't feel good, either.  And it isn't accurate. While it's true I've had some difficult times in the past several months, I've also had many wonderful times. It is time I start focusing on that once again.

Learn to smile at every situation.  See it as an opportunity to prove your strength and ability.  ~Joe Brown

Sometimes fear overcomes us, overcomes me. And when I let that fear take over, it is very difficult to find hope or peace or sunshine. One can't be happy all the time, but it's one thing to experience a passing gloominess, and another thing to let it rule your life. 

Let your inner sunshine overcome the passing haze of discontent.   ~Dodinsky

I'm deciding now to pay attention to the roses of life, to change my attitude, to look toward the sunshine, to let go of hurt and confusion, and trust in the goodness of life.

Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.  ~ Doctrine and Covenants 6:36

Lasting Influence

I've never really had a problem with Mother's Day. Not until yesterday, that is. I mean, people in the ward try so hard to be inclusive. But I think lately, that "going out of your way to be inclusive" has felt more exclusive than anything.

"You're a mother in the ward."  "You have great influence on our youth."   "You are a mother to so many." Well, while I appreciate the effort to try an include me, all I can really think is "No, I'm not a mother. I'm a youth leader. I'm a woman. But that doesn't make me a mother. I have no posterity. And now I'm reminded once again that I'm just a little different than most other women in the ward."


During Sacrament meeting one of the mothers in the ward was giving a talk. She spoke for a moment about one of her good friends who died suddenly. This friend was 41 years old, never been married, but had had such a great influence on the lives of those around her. That just got to me. I was already feeling a bit sorry for myself (that's always when things are hardest, when I'm feeling all sorry for myself), and then this description of this individual. And I couldn't help it, I just started to cry. It wasn't even that I was single and had never had kids (and probably never will). It was more that I wonder if my life means anything at all to those around me. What kind of influence do I really have on anyone? If I were to die tomorrow, who would remember me? Who would remember me a year from now?

I do have children in my life who I am connected to in some way - nieces, nephews, faux children - but my influence on their lives is minor, temporary, short-lived. If I were gone, they would probably miss me for a while, but that would be more or less fleeting. Their lives would go on pretty much unaltered. 

I kind of hoped I would have a dream showing me what influence I did have on those around me. I didn't. So all I can do is wonder. And hope that I'm wrong. Hope that my life does mean something. That my influence is felt in lasting ways.

I hate being whiny. But sometimes I just am. I still have a lot to learn.

Tattered Cloth

I didn't realize it until very recently, this morning actually, how fragile and tattered my heart, soul and spirit had become. I don't really think of myself as a fragile person, but after attending the Temple this morning, and spending a lot of time in the Celestial Room, I was surprised to feel my soul and spirit gingerly, tentatively knitting itself back together. It was then that I realized how fragile I had become.

Over the last several weeks, many things have happened that have been pulling, stretching, tearing, fraying, cutting, thinning, twisting and otherwise wearing away at my heart, soul and spirit. As I began to experience the process of healing, I pictured myself as an old, worn and very fragile piece of cloth in which historians and curators, wearing gloves in temperature, humidity, and light controlled rooms carefully and gently attempt to restore it. Where there is an exciting vision of what it might once again become, but also very cautious of moving too quickly so as to avoid causing the tattered cloth to fall apart completely. Therefore great care, caution and patience must be taken.

As I walked from the Temple, that's how I felt. Surprised at how worn my soul had become, grateful that it had begun a healing, restorative process, but knowing full well there is still much to do before my soul, heart and spirit are fully made whole. So I remain hesitant, cautious, guarded. But optimistic, looking forward to more days spent in the Savior's healing embrace.

Not Really All That Off-Balance

Being released really affected me much  more so than I expected. That, on top of the difficult news my roommate is dealing with, left me very emotional.

However, like is normally the case, I talked about it, I wrote about, I let things settle out and settle down, and I find I'm not really as off-balance as I was feeling. Momentarily, sure. But truthfully, and long-term? No. Putting things on paper, talking about them, sharing them in some way, really does help me. It doesn't change any particular circumstance, but somehow it releases some kind of pent-up energy, that, once gone, seems to re-stabilize my soul, my heart. Nothing needs to change. Nothing needs to be "set right". Everything really is and will be okay.

I have found this to be true over and over again with difficult things. Especially things dealing with my heart. If I can just share the hurt, or the fear or the feelings, they tend to ease up. I don't know what it is exactly. Maybe just being seen, being heard. Knowing that my feelings are known. It helps.

Off-Balance

I've been an emotional wreck this weekend. 


Much of what has been a part of my life, has been a stabilizing force in my life, has given me identity over the past 8 years has or is ending, changing. And it isn't so much that things have changed, because change is constant, it's that the things that have changed have given me more stability and identity than I realized.  I'm finding I don't know how to cope with these loses. I'm feeling unraveled and not sure where or how to proceed.

I was released from an organization I've been a part of for the past 7 years. I didn't realize it, but that calling has defined me in so many ways. It has given me purpose and direction. My relationship with my roommate has shifted dramatically over the past couple of years, and that has caused me some heartache and insecurity. And she is currently facing a very difficult time and change in her own life, which leaves me aching for her.

Each of these things has given me more security, direction and identity than I realized. With their loss, I feel unsure and disconnected with the direction my life will and should take, even a little bit with who I am. 

Good Things

About this same time last year, I was trying really hard to find peace and understanding in a very difficult change of events that involved my roommate and her new girlfriend. I remember at one very difficult point for me I thought something to the effect of "If for some reason things don't work out between these two, and my roommate then finds another girlfriend, I don't think I can do this again. This is too hard and painful and I will have to leave one way or another."

So it's interesting as I sit here now, my roommate and her gf did not work out. And now my roommate has a new interest. But for what ever reason, this time things are not painful to me like they were before. I'm not sure why. Maybe most of the hard learning and acceptance of change is past. But maybe it's simply a matter of who this new interest is. She's a really nice person and willing to accept me in the life of my roommate. Willing to be friends. But what ever the reason, I feel more secure and more okay than I did this time last year. And that's a good thing.

Feeling Homesick

I often feel Homesick, with a capital H. Sometimes I even ask my Father to please let me come Home now. I'm ready. It's not that I'm unhappy here. Not at all. I just know there is so much more waiting for me, and I'm ready to move on. Just like I was happy working at Wasatch Mountain State Park, but was ready to move on. And when I did, I found it was the perfect thing for me. I love where I'm working now. I love who I'm working with, and the opportunities that are there for me.

It feels like that with wanting to go Home. I am happy here. I like the people in my life. But I'm ready to move On.

I was thinking this again today in sacrament meeting. Not sure what brought it up. The thoughts and feelings just come now and then. Sometimes when I feel overwhelmed or tired. Sometimes they just come. My Heavenly Home is just as real to me as this one and my spirit just longs to return.

So today in sacrament meeting, I wondered a bit why I can't go back. I had all kinds of thoughts about learning and growing, all of which I could continue to do there. Then the thought came to me that this life experience isn't just about me getting a body and learning and growing. It's about other people. Helping them to travel the road more easily. Helping them to gain a testimony and understanding of the Lord's Plan for them. Helping to build the Kingdom of God. And that's why I'm still here. I still have a lot to in that regard. I need to help others along the way.

And just now I realized that part of this mortal experience is learning to be more like the Savior who spent His entire life serving and helping others. I still have a long way to go before I can say I truly follow the Savior's example. I have many selfish tendencies that I need to learn to let go of before I could truly return home with honor.

So for me, the concept of enduring to the end is less about overcoming trials and such, it's having to wait to go Home. And while I'm waiting, I have a lot to do, and many things to learn.