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. 

In the Same Boat?

My Bishop asked to meet with me the other day. I didn't want to, but I'm a good girl, so I did. I think he now may regret asking me in. :)

In the past I would have monitored how much and to what extent I shared my thoughts and feelings. Partly because they aren't always clear in my own head, but mostly to avoid making him uncomfortable or for fear of being judged by him.

Those were not a part of my thought processes this time around. Honesty feels a lot better, even if it does make some uncomfortable, or if it means being judged.

I want to be clear that I that I like my Bishop. I support him. I sustain him. 

He wanted to talk to me about two things. The first is not relevant here. The second thing, he said, was regarding my "same-gender...thing."

So we talked about that. I told him honestly, though I was doing pretty well, there are definitely issues I have had, mainly regarding how the Church has responded lately (lately, what am I saying? Pretty much always) to the marriage equality issue. 

I told him I fully support marriage equality. That I was thrilled and so happy when that came to Utah for those couple of weeks. And how I felt once it was stayed. I told him how frustrated I was that the Church feels a need to continue to make this such a difficult issue. How I support traditional marriage and the family. But not to the exclusion of all other types of unions. And that I struggle with the fact that an organization is essentially forcing others to live by their standards, though not everyone experiences life the same or holds the same beliefs. I told him how I wished the church could abide by the Article of Faith about "allowing all men the same privilege" of worshiping "how, where and what they may." And the verse in the Doctrine and Covenants about how religion nor government should influence the other in a way that limits the rights of others. How I wished the Church would follow those principles.

After discussing these things, I mentioned that I didn't know how those ideas and feelings about gay marriage would affect my Temple Recommend renewal. He said as long as I was living the standards, not acting on my feelings, bla, bla, bla, he could renew my recommend....

Well, there's the issue isn't it? So I wondered what does "acting on it" mean to him? I told him I was interested in dating. He didn't really have an answer, so went to the handbook. Of course I knew exactly what was written there. Callings can be held, full activity in the church can be enjoyed, Temple recommend can be renewed by avoiding all homosexual activity. He looked at me with an I'm-sorry-but-there-it-is-spelled-out-clearly look. Then he said, "So if you started dating, it could affect your temple worthiness status."

I told him I had been dealing with this "issue" for a little over 10 years now the way the Church has advised and recommend I do. And for the past three, at least, I've wanted to die. Some days very much so. Because despite my obedience, service, daily prayer, scripture study, and Temple attendance, the peace those things should offer was extremely short lived if there at all. The idea of continuing that for another 40 + years was more than I could bear. So I made the decision to date. And my heart has been at peace.

I mentioned it feels like there is a double standard in the church. Straight people can date. They can hold hands, kiss, etc. With zero consequences. In fact, it is encouraged. And yet, I am asked to not even consider it. Hold hands? Nope. Certainly not kiss. "Avoid any homosexual activity." Absolute double standard.

Then he made a ridiculous comment. There is another single woman in my ward, about my age, straight, who wants to start dating again. He said she and I were in the same boat. Single. Wanting to date. I'm sure the incredulous look on my face made him realize what a stupid comment that was. I said, no, we aren't in the same boat. Not remotely. Because she is encouraged to date. People are happy to see her date. I'm being utterly discouraged to date. Avoid it totally. So, no. We aren't in the same boat. We aren't even on the same ocean.

In his attempt to be helpful, he reminded me how short life really was. And that the best course of action was to continue to pray, read my scriptures, serve, attend church. And everything would be worked out in the next life. I didn't even have the words to express how unhelpful that counsel was. So all I could say was the choice I am faced with is an impossible one to make for someone who loves the gospel. Choose to remain totally  obedient to the policies set out in the church currently, and live the rest of my life alone, and quite possibly miserable, or chose to embrace my need for companionship, and lose so much of what the gospel is in my life.

Again, his only advice was a reminder of how short life is. And that the Lord would work everything out in the end.

Huh. Well, thanks for the chat.

At least he now knows exactly where I am and where I stand. But...he doesn't get it.

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.

The Breaking Point

Most of my week is spent living at my place of employment. There is a house there in which I live, and have made quite cozy. But on my days off, I return to my real home which I share with my roommate and her three grown children.

Most weekends when I get home, there are messes to clean up. Sometimes not, if my roomie has been cleaning up messes that aren't hers. But sometimes she's too busy or too tired to clean things up.

Tonight I returned home late from work. The house was empty. Roomie is at a conference, and the grown children, I presume, are with their dad. And (not surprising) there were messes to clean up. Nearly ever cup in the house was dirty and sitting on the counter. Cereal, cookies, popcorn and popcorn bag, plates, bowls, utensils. Kitty litter that needed to be emptied. A garbage that was full and stinking.

Some nights I can deal with all of this, and brush it off. Not tonight. I began to feel very frustrated and angry. Granted, I was already a bit stressed over some financial issues, that are slowly working themselves out, but have weakened my emotional resolve. So the frustration began to boil.

As I cleaned this, that, and the next thing, I felt myself getting grumpier and more and more frustrated, and tired of the constant maid-service I perform for adult children. Angrier at the fact that not much has changed in the past 9 1/2 years that we have all lived together despite constant and consistent requests that they clean up after themselves. Okay, I do have to admit that in some areas things have gotten better. One of the children, anyway, does a pretty good job of cleaning things up. But at this point, I wasn't offering much praise.

And then I remember that this weekend is Stake Conference. And sometimes hurtful, judgmental, critical things are said about homosexuality. Or even just very obvious statements about what is ordained of God. What the path is that one must take. And my already frustrated feelings brought the realization that if something like that is said tomorrow, I would break and quit attending church.

I've said many times in my life that I can't imagine anything that could pull me away from the church, or shake my testimony. And suddenly I find myself in a place, a situation in which I could absolutely see that happening. Its been building over time. And I finally feel like I'm at my breaking point.

This wasn't about my love and faith in the Savior and His atonement. That remains intact. Just the church and the all too often hurtful things said by its leaders. I've thought about leaving before, mostly in passing. But then I think about all I would lose, and the people who would hurt over it. That is usually enough for me to refocus.

Not tonight. As I thought of those things and those people, I absolutely did not care. My response to any questions about my departure would involve the time after time of hurtful, critical and judgmental things said about homosexuality, and that I finally just broke.

I was feeling so angry, all I could think of were negatives. The Church is and does so much good in so many ways. I just couldn't see any of that, or maybe I didn't care to look for it.

I guess I was a little afraid and concerned about the intensity of these feelings, because I knelt down and just began letting it out all in a very frustrated, honest and tearful prayer. As I did so, I had some thoughts and ideas on things that I might try to help get me back to a positive, optimistic place. Things I had been neglecting. Things that are important to me. And I committed to including those things in my life again on a regular basis. To give it an honest effort to regain my balance, hope, peace, patience and understanding.

That helped me calm down and feel a little better. 

Now I just hope tomorrow's Stake Conference is a positive one. Because I'm still not sure how well I can handle criticism and judgmental, hurtful, unhelpful comments. 

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.