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

What It's Really About

Several months ago I read a couple of really insightful articles about what to do if your gay loved one invites you (a Christian with traditional values) to their wedding. These spoke to me, as I had recently announced my engagement to my partner of 11 years. And while most of my family and friends responded in loving and supportive ways, not all did. Some have some very real concerns and fears, and are torn as to what to do. They aren't sure they can support me in this decision, and therefore not sure they can attend the wedding. Because wouldn't that then mean they supported same-sex marriage?

As my wedding day is now only 2 months away, these articles came back to my mind as I thought about my family and friends who may still be struggling with their feelings and wondering how to respond.

For those individuals and anyone else who may be interested, I've linked two of those articles here.
Good article here, and here. They are both very well written and encourage readers to ask the hard questions and offer some suggestions on ways to respond.

I have many family and friends who have looked deeply and have asked some of those hard questions. I'm grateful for their openness and willingness to realize we may never know the reasons and answers to every question, but they can still love me where I am.

As an example, while attending church several weeks ago, a woman approached me and Kim and said: "I hear congratulations are in order for you two. How exciting! I'm happy for you." At church. She didn't say 1)"I feel sad about your decision", or 2) anything about how she views gay marriage. When I see her, I won't say "There's someone who supports gay marriage" cuz she never said that. I'll say "There's a friend" because nothing more needed to be said.

And then, just because it makes me giggle, I share this quote:

"Gay marriage - I am so against it because all my gay friends are out. And if they get married, it will cost me a fortune in gifts." - Joan Rivers

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.

Hope in Unexpected Places

This is supposed to be a happy, positive post. I hope it turns out that way. The thoughts in my  head and the feelings in my heart may not translate well into written text.

I am grateful I met E when I did. Especially in light of the events that took place in the months that followed (and that continue). Because of her, and falling for her the way I did, I gained access to a door in my life I didn't know I had access to.

This experience allowed me to open a door into an entirely new "world" that was full of hope - hope that I had lost. Without this hope, I'm not sure how I would have made it through these last several months - specifically with the hurt I have felt from places that should have brought comfort.

The life I was living was right in line with what is being asked of gay church members. But that line was not bringing me peace or comfort or hope.* Still, that is the line being given as "the way". So had I not opened this unexpected door and stepped into this other "world" which contained a measure of hope, although in an arena I did not expect, the world I would be facing would be excruciating. I honestly don't know where I would be - physically, emotionally, spiritually - knowing the path I was to take, the one I had been journeying, the one we are admonished over and over to live, was only leading me to hurt and despair. The hopelessness would have been complete. 

So even though things didn't work out with E the way I hoped they would, and the journey through that was painful, the world and options it opened up for me has been the hope I've needed to get me through pretty much emotionally intact the last couple of months. And not jut intact, but honestly much better than I have been for quite some time. That experience was the catalyst I needed to make the paradigm shift that has saved my life. In many ways.

I am extremely grateful to my Father in Heaven for helping me find and then realize it was okay for me to open that door.



* I wrote the following some time last summer but never posted it. Now as I read through it I realize this explains pretty clearly the world I was facing, and the extent to which my hope was lost. The door I found, and opened, although it will potentially have negative consequences with church opportunities and blessings, has nevertheless given me the hope I was so desperately seeking. I've included it here to hopefully give some background perspective.

I guess I'm reaching out here.

If I can't have a relationship with someone that would continue to allow me all the earthly blessings of the gospel (i.e. keeping my membership in the church, attending the Temple, etc) - if there is no hope of that - then what else is there in life for me to accomplish, live for, do?

We're taught that we are here on earth for a few reasons:
1) Get a physical body. Check.
2) Be tested and tried and work to be more like the Savior. I suppose that goes on and on, but I feel I have been tested in many ways, and have come out on top, with my testimony in tact.
3) Establish an Eternal family. Well, I am a part of one, but establishing one is not in my cards.

Am I missing anything? So I have my body. I've proven over and over that despite challenges that come my way I will remain true to my Savior. I love Him. But since #3 isn't happening, what's the point in sticking around? Why do I need to stay? Just to continue to be tested, and struggle, and hurt over what I will never have? That doesn't feel very nice.

If there was a relationship I could engage in that would be fulfilling, nurturing, committed, loving, where I was someone's "other half", AND that would allow me to keep serving in the church the way that is so important and meaningful to me, that would be great. And I would have a reason to keep hanging around earth. There would be someone with which I could share my life.

I know there any many, many people in my life who love me. Don't get me wrong. And I love them. I have a great family and incredible friends. But...but. I want to share my life with someone. And if there is no hope of that, even if I fall in love I have to push that away, then what's the point in staying? [side note: I realize now there are many reasons to keep living, but this was my frame of mind at the time, with what I believed were my only options]


I wake up in the morning. I go to work. Maybe I go biking or hiking or kayaking after work. It's great fun. Very peaceful and rewarding. Sometimes I watch my sister's kids. I teach guitar. The Lord is taking care of me and blessing me in so many ways. But in the end, not having someone, and knowing that IT CAN NEVER HAPPEN, leaves me feeling very empty. Very hollow. Very hopeless.

I hurt deeply over the fact that if I did fall in love, I couldn't embrace that relationship. How sad is that? There are no words to describe what that feels like.

Oh how much easier it would be if this mortal experience just ended now. I don't really know what else I can accomplish here other than white-knuckling it through 55 more years (genetics tells me I'll probably live to be 95). That sounds pretty awful to me, to be honest.

If there was hope of having a significant other, at least there would be something, someone to live for.

It was just a few months after writing this that I had the experience I described at the first of this post and realized, that for me, there were other options.

Finding Balance

I've been pondering this post ever since the December 20th ruling striking down Utah's 3rd Amendment and the not surprising strong feelings this created on both sides. It actually hurts me a little to even write that - "both sides". Because I see it so differently.

The stay that was subsequently granted on this ruling, while not unexpected, frustrated me and had the effect of emotionally placing me back in the ranks of second-class citizen.

A very dear friend of mine, aware of those feelings, sent me a message expressing her concern for me as well as her own divided feelings regarding this issue. She expressed thoughts, concerns and uncertainties that I have heard many times. Since these things have been on my mind anyway, I've decided to use her questions and concerns as the basis of this post.

These are just my feelings and opinions as I've come to see, feel and believe them.

I've edited and changed a few things, but essentially this is the message my friend sent me:

I'm so sorry about how you're feeling about all that's going on. I myself feel torn!

How do I support my loved ones and be true to my beliefs and the sacredness of my own marriage?

If this law is overturned it affects so many other things in my mind, mainly the covenant we made to keep the law of chastity (to have no sexual relations except with those to whom you are legally and lawfully wedded). This statement technically gives the ok to same sex couples who are legally married, doesn't it? Then who's to say that same sex unions won't ultimately demand to be allowed to be married in the temple? I know that seems extreme but so did all of this 20 years ago.

I'm sorry to write this but I love you and this hurts me too in many ways. Where is the balance in it all? The balance that gives love and respect to all!

Please understand I never want you to feel "less than" in any way!! Please know how much I love you!

So, really, there are two main questions here: 1) How do I support my loved ones and be true to my beliefs and the sacredness of my own marriage, and 2) Who's to say that same-sex unions won't ultimately demand to be allowed to be married in the temple. 

The first question actually confuses me. I honestly don't see how allowing a group of people their civil rights has any effect or bearing at all on the sacredness of any other couple's marriage. The sacredness of a marriage has nothing to do with the laws of the land or the rights of others. That is absolutely and 100% up to the individual couple.

I'm not sure exactly how to say this. So I'll just say it. Just because a person or group has very strong and sacred beliefs does not mean laws should be enacted forcing others, who experience and view life differently, to be held to or limited by those beliefs. The idea that a religion is essentially forcing others to live their standards is actually revolting to me. Regardless of how much I love that religion.

The sacredness of traditional marriage is not affected, weakened, or minimized by allowing same-sex couples to marry. Only those within those marriages can affect that. So, please, please, maintain the sacredness of your marriage. Keep it strong, God-centered, holy and Celestial. Defend it. Fight for it. Strengthen it. Then remember that I would like that same opportunity within my own committed relationship.

Remember Article of Faith #11: We claim the privilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege, let them worship how, where, or what they may.

The second question: If same-sex marriage is made legal, then who's to say that same-sex unions won't ultimately demand to be allowed to be married in the temple?

I don't have a good answer to that question. Maybe someone else does, but here are my thoughts. A religion has every right to set their own standards, guidelines, rules, etc.  If a same-sex couple did demand to be married in the Temple, I expect the Church would have it's standards set and secure enough to address that issue.

But...but... Let's just say that did happen, and same-sex couples demanded and were than allowed to be married in the Temple. Would that, ultimately, negate the covenants you have made? Would it change your relationship to your spouse and to God? Would it affect the sealing nature and feelings of your Temple ceremony? I hope not.

Ultimately, I believe that a person can support traditional marriage. Defend it. Uphold it. Stay true to their beliefs, AND at the same time realize that many, many people experience life differently and should not be forced to abide by those same beliefs and standards. Nor should they be denied the rights, privileges, and responsibilities afforded to any other citizen.

I know this is a difficult issue for many people. Feelings are strong and run deep. But a person CAN support their gay loved ones and still stay true to their beliefs. Love and respect can be given to all. And I think it comes from living your beliefs and having enough love and respect to allow others to do the same.

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. 

I'm Okay. Really.

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.

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.

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.

Great Ward

I have a pretty great ward.

For those of you in my ward (and stake) who read this...Thank You!

Thank you for loving me just the way I am. Thank you for trying to understand. Thanks for staying my friend and for not running away screaming. Or even running away silently. That means the world to me.

You have no idea how your friendship has helped me these last several months.

Letting Others Adjust

Well, I just wanted to take a minute and followup on my post about Finding Peace in Truth, that I recently posted to my facebook for all to see who wished.

I wasn't sure exactly how well that would be received by some. It's always a risk to share something so personal, and in such a public way.

But I have to say I have been very pleasantly surprised. The responses I received from those who were willing to comment were absolutely positive, encouraging, full of love and understanding, and more importantly - acceptance.

I have received no negative reactions (at least to my face, and I guess that's good). ;) About the only thing I have noticed, is that a few (very few) people have seemed a little more "stand-off-ish". They still acknowledge me, and talk to me, but I can tell they are trying to deal with this new information, and aren't exactly sure how to.

I can accept and appreciate that. When I first realized and accepted this little fact about myself, I was a bit stand-off-ish towards myself as well. :)  It took me a long time to truly accept that this was simply a part of who I was ... and I was still who I had always been. I think that is what's hard for some people - they've known me (and others who "come out") for so long, that with this new information that seems so unlikely, and so contrary to the way they've viewed me this whole time, that they somehow see me as a different person suddenly. And now have to reassess everything about who I am. When in reality, I have not changed one little bit. I'm still the same old me I've always been.

But still, for some it takes time. I'm actually more amazed by those who seem to not need any time to adjust to this new information. Truly, that is incredible.