A Process of Change

There are a few things on my mind I want to share.

1) The process I went through to come to a place where I felt peace in living authentically, in choosing to date and ultimately marry the one I love. That process isn't clearly outlined in this blog. It seems I went from stalwart, faithful member, to choosing to throw that all away in an instant. It didn't happen quite like that.

2) How I've come to find peace outside the confines of a religion that defined all I was for 40+ years.

3) Where I am now, and the continuing lessons and learning I see before me.

This is all too much for one blog post. And probably too much for my soul and emotions to process in one sitting. So I will just do what I can over the next few days to work through these points.

So, the first thing on my mind:

If you have read through my blog, I hope there is no doubt about how deep and real my faith and testimony in the LDS Church was, and especially in the Lord. Everything I did, said, thought, reflected on was colored by the lens of the LDS Church and its teaching. And I loved that. I found hope and peace and comfort in that. Even as I worked through the conflicting challenges of being gay and Mormon, I sought the clarity, answers, hope and peace by living as I believed I should. As, in fact, I KNEW I should - according to the gospel standards.

And I did find a measure of peace in living that way. There was peace in living exactly as I believed the Savior wanted me to, even if the result of those actions didn't always bring hope or peace. If that makes any sense.

So my life became a roller coaster. Hope and peace as I recommitted to living with faith. Followed by the underlying hopelessness coming back to the surface - no hope in ever not being gay. No hope of falling in love with a man. Not allowed to fall in love with a woman. Followed by pulling myself out of that pit and recommitting to living faithfully, and finding hope and peace in my life from obedience. Then finding myself in despair and hopelessness again. And on and on. 

However crazy that roller coaster of life was, I couldn't see any other path. Staying in the church, with all the rights, blessings and privileges that came with it was my only path. It was, in my mind, my only option. I just had to white knuckle it through. Had to keep choosing obedience as I knew it. Had to endure to the end. 

Then, one day, something shifted inside. I found myself faced with the decision to choose solitude and celibacy, or choose to pursue a relationship, no strings attached. Ultimately it came down to what I believed would help me find the most lasting peace. What would fill me with the desire to continue on in life. What would bring me the most hope. The Lord and I had a very long conversation. In the end, I felt assurance, comfort and peace from Him in letting go of my own expectations for myself, and living a life that would bring me intimate human connection, regardless of where that path would take me in relation to the Church. Though I knew, without a doubt where it would take me, I trusted what I felt from the spirit that night and many subsequent nights. I knew I would loose my calling, my temple recommend, and probably also my membership. Yet, I still felt peace and assurance in that decision. 

It was confusing to me. I wasn't sure how to have a close relationship with the Savior outside the confines of what I had always known. But I trusted in His process for my life. I committed to Him that I would keep Him close through it all.

I didn't leave the Church at that point. I continued to attend, because it was still my connection to the Lord and His gospel. However, as I pursued my relationship with  my now wife, I felt less and less connected there. Less and less welcomed there. I began seeing and feeling more and more of the subtle and outright rejection of who I was by the Church and too many of its members. It wasn't that I was losing my testimony of the Savior and His gospel, it was that I was beginning to feel, more and more, damaged by the policies and practices of the Church. 

By the time I was excommunicated (for getting married), I was almost done trying to attend. Which, after a few weeks, I did. The quiet rejection was almost worse than the outright exclamations of how my life was an abomination, and apostate. Members of the church who were once so open and friendly, suddenly stepped back. Stopped talking to me. Or if they did talk to me, it was with a forced, "its what is expected of me" kind of feeling. Like I had suddenly ceased to be their friend, and was now their project. It was their duty to reach out to me, and help me feel welcome. But that kind of "reaching out" feels anything like a welcome. And it was obvious and painful. 

So I stopped attending, physically. But emotionally, I felt a deep loss. I longed for a faith community. I longed to be a part of a gospel congregation. To find acceptance and love. And to learn of the Savior with other like-minded people. So I sought out other churches. And enjoyed attending them. Enjoyed the love and acceptance I was shown, without reservation. I felt genuinely accepted and wanted.  And the discussions were all about the Savior. I never felt worried about what I might hear over the pulpit. 

But I do feel overarching peace, and hope, and joy. I am content in where I am. I still have questions about where to find meaningful service and connection opportunities. But I am finding them. There are wonderful, amazing people in my life. And it feels full.

So from here, I'm not sure where I will go regarding a church community. I am finding that I am enjoying my relationship with the Savior - just between He and I. Not filtered through a church. But pure and simple. He brings me peace. I don't have all the answers. I don't know if I will ever return to the LDS Church. Right now, I have no intention to. But I do keep my options open, and my heart open to the Savior. I will try to go where He leads. For now, I will simply walk with Him and find my peace through Him directly. 

For Christmas, Kim bought me this painting. This. This is where I turn for peace. Where my soul finds stillness. 

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

Disciplinary Council

The night Kim and I returned home from our honeymoon, the Bishop stopped by with a letter inviting me to a disciplinary council the following day. This wasn't unexpected. I knew it was coming. So I jotted some thoughts down to share during the council.

***

What does the hand-book say? If my situation does not fall under one of the "shall be excommunicated" situations, then please look on me with your heart. Look on my heart, soul, desires to serve my Heavenly Father and my testimony. Look on me and the person you know me to be. Consider my love for the Savior. Consider my desires to stay active and involved, and a part of this church and congregation.

I'm not asking to receive a temple recommend. But the questions asked for a recommend are not questions for church membership. Many people who cannot attend the temple are still members, some inactive with no desire to serve and be a part, some active and still serving with the desire to do so. That is my desire as well; to stay involved and serving however the Lord desires.

Perhaps you are under the assumption that gay, married individuals cannot remain members of the church, or serve in callings. But consider the Bishops in other wards and locations - they have individuals who have same sex partners and spouses who are still members, and who are serving in various callings. Because their Bishops are more concerned with the individual and the desires of their hearts to serve their Heavenly Father, then they are with interpreting policy.

Leaders of the Church are calling people to "come back", "we need you", "we want you here". But then this is what they face if they answer that call. Are they saying "we want you here, but you must not live/be your true, honest, authentic self"? Or are they saying "we want you here regardless of where you are on your path/journey"?

Those of us who want to be here, who strive to stay active and involved are being removed, punished, disciplined, while those who have left of their own accord are being left alone, or being called to come back. But at what risk?


Again, I am not asking for a Temple recommend, just to retain my membership. So I remain part of this community, able to serve, able to do family history and prepare names for the Temple.

Finally, again I just ask if the hand-book does not say my situation "shall" be excommunicated, then I ask you to look on my heart, who you know me to be, my desires to serve my Savior. And then decide if there truly is no place for me here.

***

More to follow. 

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.

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.

 

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. 

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.

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.

Moving to the Island

I've started my new job out at "The Island". I am currently in the process of moving into one of the houses out there to save on commute time and gas money.

It's a bitter-sweet move.

Bitter because this is my home. My family is right here in this house. I love them and will miss them terribly when I'm gone. Worried that maybe absence actually makes the heart grow forgetful rather than fonder. Especially when the person you are afraid might grow forgetful has someone else to turn to and loves to be with. I worry that the love of having me around and in her life will grow dim.

Sweet because it will save a couple hundred dollars a month on gas. It will save on wear and tear with the car. It will shorten my commute from 60 minutes to 2, which will be awesome. It will be really cool to live out on the Island with all that wildlife and incredible sunrises and sunsets. It will be sweet to be able to hop on my bike and bike around without having to worry about traffic.

When I'm all settled in, you are all welcome to come take an island vacation, and stay in my 5 bedroom Island House. The views are incredible.