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.

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.

Why I Stay

I've had a ... thing. A thought. Mulling around in the back of my mind for quite a while now. I wasn't really aware it was there, but when it finally found actual words, ideas, I realized it had been there a while.

Especially the last week or so, it has come more clearly to the forefront of my mind. It was framed as a question. Not only by outside influences, but by my own inner-self.

Why do I stay? A part of and actively participating in the church?

As I've tried to answer that question, not just for others, but ultimately for myself, sometimes, most times, I couldn't think of a really compelling reason. Other than it feels like where I belong. Well, just in the last few days, I feel like I may have my compelling reason.

I am just as gay...actually maybe more so (is that possible?) than I've ever been, but...

I stay because:

1) Things need to change in people's hearts. That change cannot come by forces pushing against members of the church. It has to, is most effective when, it comes from the inside. If, as a 40-year, faithful member of the church, I leave, my potential influence for some kind of good is mostly lost. I would then be living only for myself. I must be too generous of a person to let that be okay. So I stay to help change hearts.

2) I deeply, truly, honestly love the Lord with all that I am. I feel like He wants me to stay. Even as imperfect, and sometimes extremely hurtful, and soul-wrenchingly difficult things within the church can sometimes be, He wants me to stay. Maybe its because of what I wrote above. I don't know. But I love the Lord. So I stay.

I don't know where my life will take me. I don't know that I will always be an "upstanding member" of the church. Because of my feelings about marriage equality, I may one day lose my Temple Recommend. I don't know the future.

But I do know that right now I'm staying. I'm here. And I'm happy.

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. 

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.

Finding Peace in Truth

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Um...I'm not sure

Ah, life's puzzles.

I'm working on a few right now. On one, probably the biggest one, bits and pieces are coming together and it looks promising. So I keep working on it, and it's looking pretty good, though sometimes the pieces are hard to find and some are harder to put together than others. But I'm liking it over all. However, just recently as I began trying to figure out one section,I began having unkind feelings towards it. So much so that I wanted to throw the entire puzzle away. I'm not really sure what that would have accomplished. But that one section made me forget the goodness of the rest of the puzzle.And it made me bitter and cold.

But now,  after a little time, as I remember that that is just one section and not the entire puzzle, I need to find a way to get past the part that gives me unkind feelings. Do I just ignore it, and pretend it isn't there? Avoid looking at that section? Or do I just keep working on the puzzle as a whole, here a piece, there a piece and trust the process of puzzle building? That process being to understand that while putting the puzzle together, it might not really be clear or make sense. But once it's finished, the picture becomes clear, and you realize all the pieces had a place and a purpose. All the while realizing that sometimes I'm going to pick up a piece that goes in that difficult section. And the best thing to do is to just accept it for what it is, a piece of the puzzle that needs a place. And work to find that place, then move on.

I know that dwelling on that one unpleasant section won't get me anywhere. Except filled with more unkindness. And you know, I don't really like that feeling. I prefer to see the goodness that this puzzle is full of.

Yeah, that certainly feels better. So on I go, putting the pieces of the puzzle together, trusting in the process.

Living Consciously

So being LDS and being gay sometimes presents some interesting personal moments - especially not being totally "out" to everyone.

I am not in denial about my sexuality. I am a woman attracted to women. I am not confused about what I want in my life. I am a very religious person. I always have been. That part of my life defines me more than my sexuality does. 

But these two things don't always seem to mesh in the minds of other people. Well, I have to assume that. I guess personally I haven't had anyone criticize or question me about anything, but I can just imagine the thoughts going through some people's minds, especially friends I've had growing up who know my personality; those who probably knew before I did that I was gay. They see me. They see who I live with. They see who I spend my family vacations and holidays with. And then they see that I am still LDS and heavily involved with my church and calling as Young Women President. And I have no doubt that more than one has thought, "Wow, she is still in so much denial."

So how do I settle this for myself? I feel like I want to be known - at least in some circles. I have always wondered (and sometimes worried) what people think of me. What they think about me. I guess part of me doesn't mind too much that someone might assume things incorrectly about me - assume I'm in denial. But at the same time, I'd like them know I'm not an idiot about myself. And that I am living my life consciously and purposefully.

Beyond that thought I'm not sure where to take this. I don't think it's necessary at this time in my life to live totally "out", and I have specific reasons for that. But at the same time, there are reasons for me to want to be more open about myself and how and why I live my life the way I do. But I need to be careful about that. If it's just a pride thing, so people will know I'm not an idiot and in denial, then that might not be the best reason to open up more.

Things to think about.

Wendyphobia

So it appears my very existence causes incredible fear, uncertainty, discomfort, discord, unrest and even some feelings of hatred.  These are not happy feelings. It bothers me a lot that I inspire them in some people - simply because I exist in the life of my roommate, someone I care very deeply about.

It has always been my desire to have someone act in a certain way towards me out of respect. Who wouldn't want this? But this is not respect. This is blind, unfair judgment. And it bothers me a lot. What also bothers me are how these assumptions and judgments affect my roommate.

I am a kind person. A good person. A fair and caring person. I try to be unselfish, understanding and supportive. These are the qualities I would like to have considered when deciding what I'm all about. Not feelings based on assumptions and zero effort to get to know who I am and who I am not.

 I know I've made my share of mistakes, times when I could have and should have shown more concern and respect for others and their feelings. Maybe this is just Karma coming back around in a very funky and convoluted way.

What I do know is that I wish there was something I could do or say to help ease this Wendyphobia. I really hate being viewed as the opponent and the enemy. And it frustrates me how those phobic feelings by some affect the lives of others I care about.