The Park Discussion

Matt here.

The park where the missionaries and I were going to meet was about ten minutes by foot from where I grew up, but I'd never been there. I went a day early to scope the place out. Lots of trees, but nowhere really to sit. Not very busy, but a little loud from a large street on the other side of the wall on the far side of the park. On the day of, I brought a blanket big enough for the three of us to sit on and a few bottles of water.

***

Between my first meeting with the missionaries and the second, I read the Book of Mormon every day, writing notes all up in the margins. Reading it, my mind was busy and uncomfortable. Some of this is undoubtedly because it was put down in English nearly two hundred years ago, and the written style of the times definitely left its mark, as did the King James Bible.

As I read, it seemed pretty clear to me that even if the Book of Mormon is a divinely aided translation of an ancient record, the record's original weaknesses and biases are still intact. Growing up I took it for granted that when Mormon says "if there be faults [in his record] they be the faults of a man. But behold, we know no fault," [link] he was speaking from modesty, not because there might be actual faults. Now, I think it would be a mistake to say that just because something is written in scripture, it's true--even if the book as a whole is 'true.'

For example, parts of it strike me as extremely biased, like this one:

"When Lachoneus received this epistle [from the Gadiantons] he was exceedingly astonished, because of the boldness of Giddianhi demanding the possession of the land of the Nephites, and also of threatening the people and avenging the wrongs of those that had received no wrong." [link]

Maybe this is true. On the other hand, the story is fabulously short of details, and if there's one thing I've learned from being gay and Mormon, it's that there are multiple sides to every story--and these words of Lachoneus remind me strongly of modern Christians who moan about persecution from the gays. According to them, they're blameless, and their narrative represents that honest belief; honesty and earnestness aren't necessarily a safeguard against awful flaws. We've discussed this.

***

I didn't bring this up with the missionaries, though. To them, I talked about how, as I read, I slowly came to the conclusion that I do believe in God. Just . . . maybe not the Mormon version.

It started, perhaps predictably, with Satan. The idea of Satan as a personage has for many years seemed unnecessary to me. Everything that people traditionally explain with Satan seems to me more appropriately addressed as a natural impulse that ought to be controlled than as the result of a spirit bent on making us miserable. We don't need any help in that department, I think, and in 3 Nephi there are parts (6:17) that make Satan seem like some kind of mind-control alien à la Stephanie Meyer.

You can see the Satan in her eye.

Perhaps as a corollary to that, I have a hard time believing in an interventionary God, up to and including Jesus. All of the experiences I've had that I might call 'spiritual' have pointed me in the direction of "handle it yourself," so I have, and I plan to continue doing so.

Of course, gayness came up when we were talking about this.

***

Elders H (odd voice) and M (redhead) and I were sitting on the blanket I brought, sipping the water. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around. No one said anything for a second, and then Elder H said, "I think you should keep doing what you're doing."

He gathered his thoughts and continued. "We're only accountable for the knowledge that we have, and for whatever reason it seems like God hasn't given you a confirmation of the church. It seems like you're really looking for truth, and I really believe that the church is true, but God has his own reasons and his own timeline. I think you should hold on to what you know is true, and don't worry too much about the rest."

I asked Elder M what he thought, and he gave a textbook testimony, capping it off with his knowledge that God would give me a witness of the church's truth sooner rather than later.

(I kept it to myself, but I didn't believe him. He sounded like he was reading from a script.)

We shook hands and said goodbye soon thereafter. I said they could put me in the area book and visit me now and then as an inactive member if they'd like, but that I didn't want to set a specific appointment. For now, I'm a nonbeliever. Even so, I've recently (two weeks on, as I post this) found myself wanting to read more of the Book of Mormon. Not necessarily to find answers, but just because it's the book of my childhood, and the book most of my family believes. Maybe it will lead me to believe someday, long after Elders H and M have gone home.

Just Imagine

Matt here.

Imagine you’re in the back yard at your parents’ house. Well, my parents’ house. There’s a patio, two lawns, and a long deep blue cold pool. Wind, sunshine, sculpted concrete. You’ve just finished weeding the flowerbeds around the ancient splintering fence. Probably that’s the beginning of a sunburn on your neck, you notice as you lean back on your heels and wipe the sweat off your face.

“It’s good to see you again.”

Ice, fire, a tiny earthquake up your spine. You turn around and see him there, white stubble, t-shirt, cargo shorts, barefoot, and that smile you remember in your soul.

You scramble out of the dirt and hug him, crying. “You're back!” you mumble into his shoulder, in the sun. The wind. On the sod you laid fifteen years ago, grown into itchy green puffs.

The man is God. He proceeds to tell you that the Mormon church is his, and he wants you to never be with a man again. (Be with a man, anyway.) He would like you to marry a woman or be celibate, whichever you like best.

***

Could you do it? If all doubts about the Mormon church, being gay, and God’s will were removed beyond a doubt, if you knew, could you do Mormonism?

This is a useful question, I think. You know I am often not impressed with the gay community’s attitudes and arguments. Blog posts and articles like baby vomit, dribbling out at more or less regular intervals, saying “We can’t be expected to do that. That’s too hard. We’re not strong enough.” I hate these posts, I hate how they limit us, how they imply we're not enough on our own, that we need boyfriends, husbands, or partners to be happy, successful, and vibrant.

Our worth is not dependent on binding ourselves to another person.

Yet, even though I believe that firmly, I don't know if I could do it, be a gay celibate Mormon.

When I drafted this a couple of weeks ago I thought I could, but I've noticed something about myself over the past long while: I go through phases. Happy phases, sad phases, dedicated phases, procrastinating phases, believing phases, cynical phases, asexual phases and homosexual phases and sometimes the barest flutter of a heterosexual phase. A couple of weeks ago I was willing to believe, focused on the good bits of Mormon theology—the happiness, the expansive vision, the family, the inclusion.

Then I volunteered serving food at a community event, and I flirted with a fellow server, and I started focusing on the bad bits—the uncertainty, the dystopia, the solitude. And in that phase, which is ongoing as I publish this, I don't know if I'm strong enough to do Mormonism.

I figured that if I didn't have doubts about the church, there'd be nothing to it but throwing myself into the church and its activities. I'd serve a mission, which I am in fact still young enough to do. I would at least date women, a thing I haven't done since I was a teenager, and maybe marry one. Even if I didn't, I'd lead a full life, heavily investing myself in the church community, improving it and being improved by it. And they would love me! I would be adored and celebrated, showered with love like the prodigal son.

But, knowing myself, knowing about my waves, how long would it take me to discredit what I'd seen, or rationalize it away, or find some kind of loophole? Especially since the lovely active excellent life I would be leading would not erase the phantom ache of my absent other half, which, with all my doubts and worries, I found unbearable before. I have a feeling that in some years, a decade or two at the outside, I would be back to miserable indecision. Maybe I'd get other witnesses to boost me up and keep me believing, but wouldn't I have gotten those before, if they were forthcoming? I feel somehow that those continuing witnesses are less realistic hypotheticals than a visit from God.

***

The realization that maybe I couldn't do Mormonism does not, of course, answer the question of whether or not I should try.

***

I wonder how this would turn out if all his shareholders were Mormon.

"We are also driven by meaningful work, by others' acknowledgement and by the amount of effort we've put in: the harder the task is, the prouder we are."

Dissection

Matt here.

Two weeks ago, I wrote a post about the weakness inherent in using "God wouldn't . . . " as justification; it seems there's rather little that God wouldn't. Today I want to explore a thing that Ditto brought up in a post of his own: Would God send some percentage of his children to Earth pre-damned? He says no. I say no too! It seems we've found a thing that God actually wouldn't, unless I'm seriously misunderstanding things, do. The conclusions we draw from that base are wildly different, though, and of course I think mine make more sense, so rather than unload in the poor man's comment section, I wrote a post.

Ditto starts out with a lovely scripture, Moses 1:39. I'm not convinced that the LDS cannon as a whole is inspired (large swaths of the D&C come to mind), but this particular scripture has worked its way into my personal theology. "This is my work and my glory," God says, "to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man." I love that. A vision of eternity where God is on our side, where what's best for us—what helps us become eternally alive—is what he's all about. Love it. So when Ditto concludes that God "does nothing to keep us from progressing to eternal life," I agree with that. God's whole point is to bring as many of us up to his level as possible. We've found a thing God would not do. (Unless it were necessary to damn one to bring up more than one? After all, the scripture talks about the immortality and eternal life of man as a group, not of each individual man . . . But that's a thought for another day.)

Soon after that, though, Ditto's argument makes a few assumptions that I don't think are reasonable. He says "The Lord created every one of us. He created every aspect of our very being. And thus he created me and all his LGBT children with homosexual 'tendencies.'" Coming at this from a Mormon perspective (because let's face it, somewhere not so deep inside that's what I still mostly am), that doesn't hold water. Mormonism says clearly that God did not create our spirits, or "intelligences"; those have always existed (Abraham 3:18). They will always exist. If homosexuality is part of one's spirit, as many people (but not the Church) believe, then it's not something God makes, and if you claim that God made you gay, then you can't be referring to your spirit.

Given the uncreated nature of the spirit, we would need to refine Ditto's statement to something like this: "The Lord created our bodies. He created every aspect of our bodies. And thus he created me and all his LGBT children with homosexual 'tendencies.'"

That is a bit more solid, but it still needs clarification. Science in general holds that homosexuality is the result of a combination of environment and genetic factors. (The Church has no opinion on that.) I think twin studies are the most interesting and bluntly informative ones—the high correlation between gay twins shows that there's certainly some genetic component, but the fact that the incidence is far below 100 percent shows that there are other factors involved too. If we accept science's working conclusion, it's entirely possible for God to create a body with the genetic portions of same-sex attraction without actually creating a 'gay body.' The body doesn't become gay until after the environmental factors jump in there, which are the result of human agency, not God. Or, I suppose you could blame those on God too, but if you do that, why not blame everything on God?

Now, an omniscient God like the God of Mormonism would know that the body would eventually become gay, but providing the circumstances in which a thing can happen and making a thing happen aren't the same. The fact that people are gay is not proof that God created them that way.

Ditto continues: "Heavenly Father creates perfection. He did not accidentally create me gay or forget to turn on my 'I like girls' switch. No, he created me perfectly the way he intended, one of his male children who will one day love another perfectly created male child of his." There are more problems here. First, God does not create perfection. The purpose of life (according to Mormons) is to become perfect, a task which wouldn't be necessary were we created that way. Utter ignorance is perfect? Cleft palates? Deafness? No. God doesn't create perfection. However, he also doesn't create people who are unperfectable.

Second, I don't think anyone in Mormondom is saying that homosexuality is an accident, or due to divine forgetfulness. Those things are impossible with an omniscient God.

Third, it doesn't follow that just because God created us or allowed us to become attracted to our own sex he intended us to love (in the sexytimes sense) another man or another person, and every single person should know that. Why? Take the argument apart. "Because X is the way things are, X is the way God wants it to be."

Yes, that's right—it's the same argument used by the South for keeping slavery and by the Christians for keeping gays from marrying each other and by men for keeping women from voting. Or working. Or owning property.

This is a logically bankrupt argument that always fails, and it is not worthy of us.

Moving on. "Because he created me [gay] and wants nothing more than for me to be happy and obtain salvation and eternal life, how could he then tell me, 'if you choose [sexytimes], you will not be able to obtain eternal life.'" Does the Church say God says "if you choose [sexytimes], you will not be able to obtain eternal life"?

No, the Church doesn't say that, and if you know of a place where it does, please share. It does say some pretty harsh things, but it doesn't say sexual sin disqualifies you from eternal life. To quote the missionary I asked on mormon.org, "Repentance is available to all. That shouldn't be taken cavalierly; repentance is never easy and can take years of consistent effort before forgiveness is given. But sexual sins, as far as I am aware, if repented of fully, will not keep one out of the celestial kingdom." We also have Mosiah 26:30, which plainly says "As often as my people repent will I forgive them their trespasses against me," and also the whole lovely chapter of Alma 42, which talks about how justice is balanced with mercy. Mormon doctrine is pretty clear about everything except murder itself--not its next door neighbor—being repentable, if you choose to repent of it.

So when Ditto continues to say "No, Heavenly Father would not do anything of the sort," I agree insofar as he means God would not do anything that would impede his work and his glory. However, I'm not convinced that making or allowing people to be gay and commanding them not to have gay sexytimes would be an impediment. I see no reason why God might not do exactly that, especially since, as Mormons believe,  the laws of right and wrong are not malleable. If gay sex is inherently wrong and gettin' it on is inherently an impediment to God's work, how could he not command us to avoid it?

***
Good to review: Bill Bradshaw on nature/nurture and Bill Bradshaw on Mormon Stories
Funny, but crude, webcomic. (This one I linked to isn't particularly crude, though, and I relate.)

Little Children Burn

Matt here.

Sometimes I think we, gay people, are like little little children. We get our fingers pinched or go in for our shots and scream like we've been set on fire.

---

From time to time I hear an argument, usually in the comments sections of articles but occasionally from dear dear friends, that God would not let people be born gay and then expect them to live celibate lives. I understand the appeal of the argument, of course; if God wouldn't command us to be celibate, then we're good to go on the sex thing. Hallelujah!

The problem is that this argument isn't actually an argument—it's just a denial. It's sticking your head in the sand, thinking that if you can't see the consequences, they can't bite you in the butt.

In fact, it's worse than a flat denial. If you say "Gay sex is a sin" and I say "No it isn't," we can argue all day about who has the authority to declare what's sinful and what's not. But if you say "Gay sex is a sin" and I say "God wouldn't let me be born gay if gay sex were a sin," the argument now becomes about what God would not allow, and that list appears to be remarkably short.

Assuming God exists, he either causes or allows an amazing range of horrific events. I flatter myself I needn't list them, though I'm thinking of one particular thing. I was in Hiroshima last week, at the Atomic Bomb Museum, where I was perfectly fine until I saw a mannequin wearing a torn, burned boy's junior high school uniform and I involuntarily pictured my favorite student's face. I was not fine after that.

God lets little children burn to death. Every awful thing that has ever happened, God let it happen. How presumptuous, to say that because God allows a thing it's not a tragedy, and the consequences can't hurt. How ridiculous, for grown men and women to caterwaul that the pain the church asks them to suffer is more than God would ask.

Bitch, please.

---

Tonight is my last night in Japan. By the time you read this, I should be back in good ole California.

Supreme Court

Like one of the other writers on this blog, this winter I went to the Sundance Film Festival and saw the movie "God Loves Uganda," which was about a group of evangelical American Christians preaching a very anti-gay message in Uganda. In the question and answer session after the film, the filmmaker said that the evangelical group let him film them and follow them around because, they said, it was a chance to let God direct their filming and their portrayal in the larger world.

The crowd laughed about this because it was funny, but, also funnily, I kind of agree with them. I agree that if God had a hand in this film, then she/he did a great job in showing how terrible gay hate groups are and how we need to love people instead of hating them (which, ironically, would include the evangelical Christians, which is kinda hard). The Ugandan bishop who was interviewed in the film was also there for the question and answer, and he talked about how he believes in a god who created everyone differently and is showing us that we are on earth to be nice to everyone, regardless of how different we feel from them, and is teaching us acceptance and love for other people.

Anyway, the thought of God intervening in people's lives (and films) has me thinking about the Supreme Court case, and how many religious people are probably praying their hearts out right now that God will influence the decision in the correct, moral way. For some people, the correct, moral way means that gay marriage will be struck down and that Prop 8 will be upheld. For other people, like me, the correct moral thing is that equal rights for everyone throughout the states will be upheld. This is the problem of prayer--people pray for different things, and sometimes people thinking that God has "answered" their prayers is at the expense of people who were praying for different things. Like, say, the people praying for the reelection of Barack Obama vs. the people praying (so very, very hard, bless them) for Mitt Romney to be elected. Which I guess is why each religion's view of prayer is really problematic and has the potential to be damaging and hurtful. But if you believe in prayers or sending out good thoughts or agitating for social activism and demonstrating and peaceful marches or all of the above, and they help you out, then go for it.

I guess what I'm really saying is that if there is a god, then I firmly choose to believe that he/she wants everyone to be equal and wants everyone to be happy. If there is a god, he/she loves everyone, even if he/she doesn't actively intervene in everything all the time. I know what I'm saying is problematic, and the idea of a god intervening sometimes and not all times to help people remains deeply disturbing to me. But if all those people out there are praying for God to intervene in this case, then I choose to hope that he/she will intervene for what I firmly believe is the better, and not for what the conservatives in our midst believe is a correct religious moral imposition. And I'll keep sending positive thoughts out into the universe, and maybe go to some rallies this week. If you want to, feel free to do the same; if you don't want to, that's cool too, and if you want to pray to whatever God you believe in for the best possible outcome, that's cool too.

Ask Me
Some time when the river is ice ask me 
mistakes I have made. Ask me whether 
what I have done is my life. Others 
have come in their slow way into 
my thought, and some have tried to help 
or to hurt: ask me what difference 
their strongest love or hate has made.
I will listen to what you say. 

You and I can turn and look 
at the silent river and wait. We know 
the current is there, hidden; and there 
are comings and goings from miles away 

that hold the stillness exactly before us. 
What the river says, that is what I say.

William Stafford 

God

Sometimes I don't know if I believe in God. I do at least know that I don't believe in a smiley, white, creepy Jesus like this one:

Or a Jesus who holds a token black child in a token African setting while blessing the colonialist endeavors of white capitalist America:

Of course, if you do believe in Jesus (a non-white, ethnically/culturally correct Jesus who loves people and doesn't say anything about homosexuality), that's totally cool too. I have a rosary that I like to wear sometimes because it's pretty and because it reminds me to try to be nice to people. Which is hard for me.

One thing I do believe in is nature. Whenever I'm in nature, I feel closer to something and empowered to believe in something. It could be (Navajo-style) my connection to the rest of the world or whatever spiritual forces I (or you) believe are at work in the world.

My favorite poems about God have always been those that connect God to nature. For example,

Sacrament

God, I have sought you as a fox seeks chickens,
curbing my hunger with cunning.
The times I have tasted your flesh
there was no bread and wine between us,
only night and the wind beating the grass.

-Alden Nowlan

I love the idea that nature can be a temple/place of worship, regardless of whatever kind of God/spirituality/beauty you believe in. Here's a picture I took of a beautiful place:

I've been having recurring dreams about the ocean. I think I need to go.

At the same time, I love touring different faiths' houses of worship. Here's the mosque at Touba, the holy city of Senegal. Sorry the pictures are so dark:

One thing I really like about mosques is that people use them as literal places of rest--you go there at any time during your day on any day of the week and you eat, sleep, and relax in these beautiful, ornate rooms. What a great idea.

Also, if you live in Utah and haven't been to the Cathedral of the Madeleine, I would encourage you to go. It's gorgeous and very much worth the trip.

In sum, whatever God you choose to believe in or not to believe in, spend some time somewhere beautiful for you this week, and, if you need to, reorient yourself to the goodness that can exist in the world outside of prejudice, bias, bullying, and hate. All those things exist in the world and in all cultures and societies, and so nature tends to become that place for me. I choose to believe that if there is a god, s/he wants you to love yourself and to feel loved. So find your place somewhere where you can feel loved and good; I hope that this blog can be one of the those places for you. 

When a Church is More Important than Your Child

Photo by BingBing

I'm writing a book about growing up Mormon and gay.  Some of you may know this, many of you do not.  Below is the first draft of one of the chapters; it charts the first conversation I've had with my mother since coming out to her in a letter two weeks ago.

More than anything, this experience illustrates to me how much the LDS Church (and religion in general) holds families and their relationships hostage.  I cannot understand why so many members of the Church believe they have a monopoly on God's love. Furthermore, if you don't fit the Church's mold, you are unworthy of His affection and grace. I don't understand it and I refuse to believe it.

This post is not a plea for your affection or an attempt to fish for your compassion. It's not an attempt to condemn or vilify my mother, either.  It is simply a recollection of my personal experience and an attempted illustration of the damage that can happen when religious dogma supersedes a faith's foundation of love and charity.

Anyway, thank you for joining me in my journey - it is my goal to help ease others' burdens by sharing some of my pain and experiences.

--

 On Deaf Ears

“Where do you want to sit; we can talk at the table or here in the living room?”

“I don’t care, mom,” I replied. “Wherever you want is fine.”

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s just sit in here on the couches then.”

As we sat down we never broke eye contact.  We looked at each other, carefully sizing the other up, not knowing where to start. 

 

Several moments of the most awkward silence of my life followed.

Over the last two weeks I thought I had prepared myself for whatever argument my mother would throw at me.  In my mind, I had endured my trials with the patience of Job and I felt as though nothing she could say to me, no hurtful insult she could scream at me, would change how I felt or affect me or my resolve moving forward.

I was wrong.

The electric silence came to a halting stop as flood gates opened simultaneously for both of us.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she demanded through clenched teeth and tear-stained eyes.

“Because nobody in this family is bashful about how much they hate gay people,” I similarly responded.

“Yeah, that’s because I believe in the scriptures, Michael,” she replied. “I know how evil this path is and I know people, firsthand, who have chosen to live the homosexual lifestyle and it has destroyed them. If you choose this path, it will chew you up and spit you out.

“How could you do this to me?” she continued. “The first three days I couldn’t eat.  I couldn’t sleep.  I couldn’t even breathe.  I wake up every hour on the hour panicked that I’m going to lose you to this sinful path.  I’ve started having evil, satanic dreams.  I know the devil has a hold of you.  And in my dreams he is pulling you away from me. But I’ve got you and I am not going to let you do this.  You are a part of this celestial family and I will not let you do this to yourself or this family.”

I wished she had screamed at me.  I wished she’d hurled every British and American insult she could come up with.  I wish she’d said anything but what she did. I couldn’t respond; I didn’t know how to.

My lack of response seemed to fuel her momentum so she continued.

“How long have you been ‘dealing’ with this?”

“I don’t have an exact idea but at least since I was 11 or 12 and started going through puberty,” I meekly replied.

“Did anyone ever touch you?  Were you ever molested or sexually abused by anyone?” she demanded.

“No.”

“Did someone ever expose themselves to you or to anything else?”

“No, mom, not that I can remember,” I responded with an irritated edge to my voice.

“I think this happened when you were a sophomore in high school and saw those naked images of men on the Internet,” she replied.

(I had convinced my parents that an image search of “muscle men” that I neglected to delete off our computer’s Internet history was part of an assignment for my health and team sports class.  For better or worse, I guess, I’m a pretty good liar – especially when it comes to covering my butt and keeping myself out of trouble.)

Actively rolling my eyes and trying to share my dissatisfaction with the direction of the conversation, I said, “Please mom, give me a break.  That wasn’t the first time I’d seen a naked man or woman and it sure wasn’t the last time.  Beyond that, our society and culture is filled with sexuality and sexual imagery. Everywhere! And there’re way more heterosexual messages and images in the world around us than any type of gay propaganda.”

“Why didn’t you come to us sooner, so we could help you overcome this; get you the help you need” she pushed forward, undeterred.

“Mom, did you read my letter?” I shot back. “I have spent thousands on counseling and prescription medications to try and 'get help.'  I am who I am and I can’t be fixed or changed.  I’ve tried.”

“Well, was this at BYU?” she countered. “I read an article just last week in the Deseret News that those methods don’t work.  You said you were suicidal? That was why, I’m sure!”

“I was suicidal in high school.  I told you, I’ve been dealing with this since I was in seventh grade! Counseling at BYU was my final effort because nothing else worked up to that point.  I have done everything to try and change, mom.  Everything.”

“Well, we need to get you better help.  Someone who knows how to deal with this; we need to get you over to LDS Family Services.  I'll help pay for it,” she announced.  “Are you on antidepressants right now?  You need to be.  They will help you beat this.”

“No, they make things worse,” was all I could muster.

And then she went in for the kill.

“If I could take this from you, I would,” she said through choked sobs. “I would take away all of your pain, and sorrow, and temptation.  I would take whatever lies you’ve been told and I would take every unrighteous desire you had away, too.  I have prayed to Heavenly Father and asked Him for this.  When I go in for my operation next month, I begged Him to let me die on the operating table if it meant you could be whole and our eternal family could be kept together forever and you could keep your covenants.”

I was dumbstruck.  My mother had just told me she had prayed to die on my behalf; to literally become my own personal savior. I just stared into her tear-streaked face as my own 15 years of raw, religious emotion came boiling to the brim.  I couldn’t respond, I told myself I needed to calm down before moving forward because I didn't know what would come out.

So, without my response, she continued.

“I didn’t get married until I was 27 but I can promise you that there were times I wondered if I was ever going to get married,” she said, believing she was making headroom with me. “If I hadn’t gotten married, I would NEVER have gone out and done ‘anything’ just because I was lonely.  The gospel is that important to me.”

Finally she said something that sparked me out of my silent stupor.

“That’s completely different, you can’t compare the two, mom,” I countered. “You would go through this life with the hope that maybe, someday, you would get married. You could hold onto the hope that you COULD get married.  You aren’t told by the church to live alone, single, and celibate for the rest of your life with no hope of companionship and love.”

“It is too the same thing, covenants are covenants,” she countered. “I have a friend who I’ve known for 30 years who deals with this issue. You don’t need to know who it is (I wonder who the hell that is, you only have one single, male, gay friend and he ran away to New York in the ‘90s and then a few years later to San Francisco to get away from his family and the church.  If he’s active in the church now, you can be sure as shit he sowed his ‘wild oats’ before settling back down in to his churchly routine [no, his name isn’t Mitch Mayne] I thought to myself.) but he’s found meaningful service in the church by doing genealogy and serving in the temple.  He’s accepted his cross and lives within the bounds of his covenants.

“If you never marry and just become the favorite uncle to your sisters’ kids, so be it.  At least I would know that you have stayed true to the gospel and the promises you have made in the House of the Lord. Now, I know you think members of the church can be mean…”

“No, mom, stop,” I demanded! “The members of the church are bad enough but you don’t understand the hell I’ve been through. I did everything the church demanded.  Every prayer I’ve uttered over the last 15 years was a desperate plea with God to fix me and take away this burden.  Every time I fasted, I held true to the hope that I would be cured of my unrighteous desires. Growing up, when these feelings didn’t go away but only got stronger, I researched everything and received promises from church leaders that if I only gave more of myself I would be strengthened and that this curse would be broken."

Tears freely flowing down my face; great, heaving sobs rocking my entire body I continued.

“I was president of every quorum.  I did sports and joined nearly every club and group in high school to prove I was worth something. I graduated at the top of my seminary class with a 4.0 and spoke at seminary graduation. I went on a mission and served faithfully.  I graduated from BYU and dated girls and even got engaged.  But for what? I would wake up in cold sweats, terrified that I was going to ruin everyone’s lives.  That if I did get married, I would destroy her hopes and dreams for happiness because I wasn’t worthy; it wouldn’t be fair to her.  I have lived my life terrified that I was going to destroy our family and disappoint you; that I would never be good enough for anyone.

“And then you add apostles who say horrid, hateful things.  Do you know what it’s like being told you are unnatural, that you should be cast out, that you are an ‘enemy to the family’ and that a loving heavenly father would never make one of his children, in his image, with these feelings.  No, you don’t, you don’t know what it’s like to give your life to a church and have it spit in your face and cast you out. To hear that they prefer child rapists and sex offenders in their fold over you, that somehow these monsters are better than you – more worthy. You don’t, you don’t know what it’s like to feel so abandoned.”

And that was it.  Every particle of strength and resolve I had was expended. I sat, hunched over, silent tears streaming down my face, literally bathing my hands in their warmth.

My mother finally came over to my couch and sat down next to me, placing her arm around me and continued her crusade for my soul.

“Oh baby, my sweet baby boy,” she cooed. “It’s okay, together we’ll beat this. We all have our trials in this life.  I don’t know what the rest of my life holds but I can promise you that we all have things we struggle with; we all have burdens to bear.  I have things, your dad has things he struggles with, which is why we’re not going to tell him.  It’s just how he was raised.  He couldn’t handle it.”

I sat silently staring at my hands unable to respond.  Everything I had said in my letter, everything I had said in this wretched conversation had fallen on deaf ears. Every word.

Perceiving my silence as a form of agreement, she continued with a hint of a smile in her voice.

“Everything makes sense, now, at least.  Your anger and frustration over the years, the acne and bad skin; and if that wasn’t bad enough, all the many other trials you’ve been given.  Of all my kids, you had to have the worst teeth, the bad eyesight, the blemishes and be the worst l… well, I mean, you’ve always had a hard time losing weight.  All these things add up, you know? They really drag down on your soul.”

Really, mom, on top of being the gay child, I was apparently the ugly one, too.  If the conversation wasn’t enough of an open wound, hearing your mother call you the “worst looking” of her kids while pointing out your many physical faults definitely was the proverbial “salt.”

Her final sting was the necessary nudge I needed to jump ship and abandon the situation.

I stood up to break my mother’s partial embrace as the doorbell rang.  Fortunately, for my sake, this was the interruption I needed to leave. I gathered my wits, straightened the pillows, and cordially acknowledged our visitor before taking my leave as graciously as possible.

Empty, broken, and lost, I got in my car and drove away.

--

In light of this week's events, I think it’s time to leave.  Maybe I'm running away.  Maybe it’s just a new adventure. Either way, if I am going to live my life authentically and for myself, I need to leave. At least for now, I  cannot do that in Utah.  It’s time to move on – hopefully this time next week I’ll have a definitive answer to where that will be - here's hoping, anyway. Wish me luck!



PS - If you haven't read enough, I have another post today at http://mcwilleyfactor.com that further illustrates my two worlds colliding and slowly merging into one.  It's all about one tiny step out of the closet at a time, right?