Guest Post: On Silence

Hi, everyone! I'm your Saturday guest blogger, though I used to be a writer here so I'm not technically a guest, and probably I won't publish this until Saturday night because I'm the slowest, laziest person. Anyway, my name is Kylie, and I used to be the bisexual Sunday blogger until I unexpectedly stopped writing without telling anyone why. So this is my make-up post to explain and apologize, and hopefully reach some helpful conclusions about what led to my silence.

First of all, I stopped writing when I got engaged over the summer. For one thing, planning a wedding is time-consuming and stressful, even when you're think that you're not that into weddings so it won't be time-consuming and stressful. Sadly for everyone, that mentality never pans out, which was disappointing. Also, I'm a woman who got engaged to a straight man, so I had all those anxieties bisexual people have about being invisible and being judged by the lgbtq community for appearing to be in a traditionally straight marriage and doing traditional things like planning a wedding which is rude because most members of the lgbtq community can't do so. So that was the first anxiety.

The second anxiety related to my parents, who started reading my blog. In a way, that was good to know, because really all my blog posts in some way related to my anxieties about my parents, and really I guess I was secretly hoping they'd be reading it all along, since I couldn't talk to them in person about all the things I wanted them to hear from me anyway. But then I got worried that I'd been being mean to them, and I felt too insecure to come back and write knowing my more specific audience that I could visualize and cared about and whose feelings I really didn't want to be hurt.

The third anxiety is the one I'm actually going to write about a little bit, because I'm still not sure what to do about the first and second ones. This one relates to my then-bishop, who, I should clarify, was a very nice, very sincere person who, I think, really, really, really wanted to help me. So I told him I was bisexual, and he did a little digging on me, and found this blog. I'm not surprised, and I've always written this blog with a BYU/LDS audience in mind, since those are the communities I belong to, and I hadn't tried to hide anything I'd written or been ashamed or embarrassed about it. But suddenly, this man I hadn't known until a few months earlier had read every single one of my blog posts, and this led to him asking me if I'd ever had sex with a woman in spite of me telling him that I'd been in a committed relationship with the same man for four years and telling him already that I obeyed and always had obeyed the Mormon law of chastity, i.e. no premarital sex with anyone. He sent me to meet with the stake president, or the person higher up in him than authority. I met with this man too, and continued to be very uncomfortable being asked questions about my sexuality and if I'd ever had sex with a woman (because heterosexual people don't know they're heterosexual until they sleep with a member of the opposite sex and know with absolute certainty they're super, really, definitely straight), and so on and so forth.

Again, I really believe that both men were doing what they thought was best for me (and doing what you feel is best without consulting the person you're trying to help, even when you really, really, really believe you're helping and being so kind and so nice, is an entirely different issue that I could go on and on about). And the problem might not lie so much with them as with the overall establishment's need to figure out how to proceed with people like me who, say, want a temple recommend but are comfortable being bisexual. The end result is: I became embarrassed and ashamed of what I had written here, and in attempt to appear more worthy to the people who felt responsible for judging and questioning my worthiness instead of letting me be responsible for my own worthiness or accept my own answers about it as true, I let them kind of take over, and stopped writing on the blog without telling anyone why.

So. That's the long story made short, eliminating the many sleepless nights of crying and crying about how these older men had asked me these really specific questions about my sexuality that I didn't feel like they had any right to ask and that made me feel awful, being a rather quiet and prudish person to begin with, and that made me feel embarrassed and ashamed of who I was, and that led to me unintentionally deciding that the easiest course of action was silence and inaction over anything else.

The issue is that I didn't actually feel unworthy, and it's that I'm not actually ashamed of anything I've put on this blog. I put my real thoughts and feelings here, and I don't think there's anything here to be embarrassed of. I'm sometimes rash, and what I put here doesn't convey what I always think 100% of the time, and my opinions on things are likely to change. But a depressed, bisexual adult woman in a committed relationship should be allowed to say what she wants on a website created by a BYU student specifically to "break the silence" without being questioned on her worthiness as a human being or as a spiritual person.

Anyway, I'm a little bit scared to post this because that whole weird thing happened in May and it was just a wretched, wretched experience that made me feel horrible, which is kind of a terrible way to feel when you get engaged in May and just want to be excited about being with the person you're with. I also don't want to make my parents sad, and I don't want to make the bishop or stake president feel bad, because they really were doing what they thought was best, even though it ended up being so horrible and traumatic and the worst. So. There's that. But even though I'm kind of scared and putting this out here makes me feel vulnerable all over again, I wanted to put my experience here because every once in a while, I remember it, and instead of feeling like crying, I feel like I want to do something about it. I'm an anxious person as it is, and if there's anything I can do to alleviate that anxiety and be less anxious, I'd like to do that thing. So my final thought after this whole long rambling thing is that sometimes you let other people silence you, and, as my therapist would say, sometimes it's okay to ride that silence and not to fight that battle right now, and leave it for later when you're more equipped to deal with it. And sometimes it's time to be loud and make your voice heart and talk about the ways you got hurt, especially so the system can know about it and try to deal with that, so that's kind of what I'm doing now, even though it's in a long, rambling kind of way.

Anyway, thanks for letting me share this here. I'm really excited about all these new bloggers and to see what you guys are talking about here, because it's valuable and good. I'm going to go finish watching Love Actually and probably cry myself to sleep, mostly because it's cute and not because I'm sad. Which is nice.

My Mistakes

I don't think there's anything wrong with mistakes.
 
Well, to an extent anyway. I'm realizing more and more that success can't be measured in terms of what you have accomplished or the level of wealth one has obtained or even by the mass amounts of happiness you have. It's seriously by what you have done in your life and what you know.
 
I told myself when I was 18 that I was going to be a quad-zillionaire, very successful, didn't bat an eye to the way I viewed myself then and knew my dejection in high school was just a blip in the continuum of time I had. Well...that didn't happen. In fact, most who view my life probably would see me as a stalemate right now. I still haven't finished my degree. I was diagnosed with HIV at a very young age, I was a persistent drug and alcohol abuser, and I'm still doing the whole two-job thing I was doing back in college during my very early 20's. And yes, high student loan debt with very few personal possessions.
 
That's not the point though.
 
Have you ever wondered what does happen to the person when they admit defeat, when they give up? When it seems like no further reason exists for continuing? Easy. They die. They die either a mental or a physical death. Or both. They turn to depression, anxiety, anguish, hatred, and a bitter way of living life. And no I'm not talking about those who have mental health problems with these issues (trust me, I'm one of them).
 
What it is, instead, is persistent and long-lasting depression and so forth from feeling like an utter failure that never heals itself because that person is consistently in a ball of rolling hatred toward the world! So much, in fact, they shut down on the inside. Negativity attracts that lifestyle.
 
I refuse to be that person.
 
Why? Because I know the amazing and even Godlike possibilities of the human mind and how it can change your life.
 

 

The phrase goes, "As a man thinketh, so is he."
 
It's probably the only scripture I've held dearest to my heart, and I still do so today. Once I realized I knew what I wanted in life and how to do it, I instantly started to see change. Not drastic, but rather a small change that grew every day. And it made me into the best human being I could possibly be! And it's making me so much better.
 
The secret? My thought process. Anything you so desire can only be achieved by starting to think about how to get it. As a result, action enfolds and brings you closer to your goals. Simple, yet so farfetched in this world. My goal was to be a motivational speaker, to better the lives of people by sharing experiences of my personal self and being an entertainer through my music.
 
Now? That's exactly what I'm doing. I'm talking to high school kids, playing at the hospital, etc.and I love it. It never seemed to be something that I ever thought I would get to...but after realizing that I control literally EVERYTHING that happens in my life, why shouldn't I? My health has grown because of my understanding that I can fight off anything. My education is becoming brighter because I now want to learn this time and wish to finish my degree. I have goals now to date, to actually settle down, and refuse to sleep around with random people just to find the right guy for me. I envision ideas of becoming successful in my career, and even becoming known as the person who will change the course of the world. (Well, maybe not to THAT extreme, but I definitely plan on making a mark.) And now even going and becoming a great gym guy and trying to increase my strength because of seeing and feeling how it affects me and my personal well-being. ALL of this coming from one simple thing: how I view myself in my mind.
 
It was the hardest day of my life to look at myself in the mirror and say OUT LOUD, "I am happy with myself exactly how I am now." It took me a good half hour to really come to terms with that idea. But now? I feel that exact same statement every day when I get ready. I make time to get ready, to do my hair, to pick out the best outfit that everyone sees me in, to have a smile on my face, to push myself farther and farther into the person of whom I want to be.
 
But what I've also learned is sometimes it's okay to take things in strides and give people, things, and ideas a chance as well! Some people I've recently met have made me realize that there can be value in anything and anyone; it simply is your attitude in how you approach the situation and how it turns out. I was skeptical in sometimes giving new people and guys a chance because I've been burned in the past. But recently...I'm seeing that people as a whole are generally good people. They may not be the brightest, but in some light or another, they're just like you and me and should be treated with respect.
 
Now? I'm in a good mindset. :) I have a loving family, great friends, awesome jobs, and a great life ahead of me. And I hope, one day, that life makes itself into a better way that I am able to continue to grow and continue my life even more. All because of how I think and view myself as a person.
 
I am TRULY happy for who I am. I'm sexy. Yes, I'm gay (sorry ladies). I'm amazing. And quite the catch who loves Italian food, good conversation, and a genuine smile and eyes from people. And trust me....you WANT to get to know me! As a man, as a friend, as a lover (I want a man in my life), whatever you think or want ;) Because I will better your life for having me in it.

Mormons, Gays, Fire, Bridges

Matt here.

So, this week. Keeping Mormons after dropping Mormonism.

I have a couple of friends in SLC who are Mormon and who believe in the church, but also strongly support gay rights. One of them even volunteers with the Trevor project. They've each hosted me in their homes and supported my plans for love, family, and atheism; it's pretty much a no-brainer that their Mormonism doesn't bother me. They're good friends, and easy to love because they love me, and I can feel it.

But then, if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye?

I have a few friends in Utah and Arizona, including my roommates from the Cozy House, who are more traditionally Mormon. They voted for Prop 8 and similar and think the recent SCOTUS decisions were the result of activist judges. They "don't agree with homosexuality."

These people are much more difficult to love. Conversation often gets strangled as I try not to bring up the guy I have a crush on or how happy I was when Prop 8 fell and so on. Sometimes one or the other of us will not be circumspect enough and prick the other with a needle about their delusions or my immorality. Keeping a relationship with these people often hurts.

Yet, they've also shared their homes with me. These people have listened when I needed to be heard and held me up during scary-dark times. They're generally good, smart people, focused on their families. I have memories with them, and connections, and in most cases I don't want to let them go.

Keeping up our relationships is a bit of a dilemma. Talking with these Mormons is usually as uncomfortable as it is enlightening, as infuriating as it is good to reminisce. I find myself weighing each one: Is this worth keeping up? Do I want to still know these people?

Mostly the answer has been yes. In large part, this is because I want to be a man who has a wide filter bubble. Partly it's because I don't want one's opinion about homosexuality or religion to be a dealbreaker, and partly it's because I don't want everything to always come back to me and people like me. I don't want other people's narrowness to make me narrow.

Sometimes, it's a dilemma. Egg* and I, for example, were homeschooled and then early college students together. She's essentially my sister from another mister, in that we had our phases of hate and love and we spent far, far too much time together. Egg is very Mormon (the kind that Doesn't Agree With Homosexuality), and it was difficult for her when I came out over the phone while at BYU, but it also made a lot of sense, and she's adapted well. Although she, like my sister, feels the need to remind me that she Doesn't Agree every time we talk about boys, we do talk about boys.

However. While I was in Japan she got married to a Mormon man who also Doesn't Agree With Homosexuality--so much that he literally will not stay in the same room as me. I was at his house visiting with Egg; he said hello, moved to another room, and put in headphones. I took a chair next to him at a recent event; he sat stonily for five minutes and then moved to the other side of the yard, where he remained until I left, an hour or so later. Egg confirms that he is creeped out because I'm gay, and I have to say, that makes me livid. The bridges I've tried to build to him (because he's Egg's husband) are on fire.

. . . but then, if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye?

The bridges may survive, scorched, because he's Egg's husband. There's a point where it's just not worth it, even if it means giving up Egg. There's a point where I'm going to start throwing gas instead of sand.

But we're not there yet.

*My Egg is not at all like this Egg, I just couldn't resist the urge to share.

***

Here is a related article.
Here is a second related article.

Roommates, Now and Then

Matt here.

Things are going well for me here in the Bay Area. This coming week I'll find out whether or not the Navy wants to hire me. Last week I was approached about a job with a nonprofit, so I have a safety net in case the military isn't in my future. I'm buying a car on Monday.

And I love my roommates. The outgoing one and I go out every other week or so--last night we went to dinner, a show, and karaoke with a bunch of friends. The quiet one and I go to the gym together four or five times per week and have lovely discussions about the DOD budget or immigration or whatever happens to be on NPR. Every now and then we'll all go out on a hike together or something. It's such a pleasure to share a house with them.

My last set of non-family roommates and I also got on well. We lived south of BYU in a four-person place we called the Cozy House. Two were brothers, everyone but me was a choir boy. We also got on well and did things together, but when it came down to it there was always a bit of an elephant in the room: They believed in Mormonism, and I didn't. They thought homosexual activity was bad, and I didn't. They were as kind and sweet as could be, but those disagreements (and the pressures of coming out at BYU, blah blah blah) put a damper on things.

It's interesting to see the contrast. There are things I miss about the Cozy House setup, like Brian's tendency to do big messy building projects in the kitchen or Spencer's tendency to talk about fantasy novels or Jeff's tendency to bring people over, but the things I don't miss are heavier. Constant worry about the future of my eternal soul. Being the only one who doesn't share wads of Mormon assumptions about life. Inability to trust myself.

Sometime soon--possibly this summer--I'm going to meet up with one or two of the guys and see how things are now.  I wonder if we'll get on now, if the elephant will be bigger or smaller. I wonder if our disagreements will matter.

Oh man! Thank you for reading through my reminiscences. I wanted you to know some of the context that's in my head as I prepare for next week's post, in which I'm planning to discuss the pros and cons and maybe the how-to's of keeping and maintaining friendships with Mormons after dropping their church.It's something I think of rather often, and I imagine at least a few of y'all do to. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Mormons Be Like, "Progress!"

“Wait…women weren’t allowed to pray before??”

This was my first reaction upon reading that Jean A. Stevens, first counselor in the Primary presidency, gave the first prayer ever given by a woman at a worldwide Mormon meeting during Saturday’s General Conference session.

(Reason why I’m not a good Mormon: I’ve never watched a televised General Conference event. Ever. In years past, I’d read the talks online or in print if I perhaps was interested in any of them. Otherwise, I’ve never participated in General Conference.)

Women have been able to pray during regular, local Sunday services for as long as I’ve been alive. And truth be told, women’s prayers often captured my attention and spirit better than their male counterparts. I was baffled as to how a woman had never before prayed in a General Conference before. Welcome to 1925, y’all.

As per usual, the drama started while reading my Facebook newsfeed, blown up with news of the “first prayer by a woman at Mormon conference.” The response was an overwhelming “yay progress!,” to which I groaned.

In an email quoted by The Salt Like Tribune , Kristine Haglund, editor of Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought, offered an explanation as to why women had never before been invited to pray at worldwide Church meetings:

"It was the unintended consequence of the institutional systematization of patriarchy.”

And it was Steven’s prayer that uncovered the existence of patriarchy at an institutional level. A system that didn’t acknowledge the capabilities and capacities of women to pray at worldwide meetings until 2013, 183 years after the Church was formed. And a system that is still in place, despite a historical prayer this weekend.

A system where at the same conference as the first woman’s prayer, talks were given that weren’t so welcoming and loving. Some warned us against the “tolerance trap,” as it was coined. Talks like these are especially harmful to members of LGBT Mormon spaces, and do much to show how little progress is being made, and how the institutionalized patriarchy is still operating at its finest. 

I am glad that women are now able to pray in these spaces. But it’s only one of many worthwhile causes Mormon feminists are working on. These people are continuing to work on the causes pertinent to bringing about substantial changes. A Facebook event the other week clued me in to a movement of women nationwide to wear pants on a specified Sunday. Besides this, people are working to challenge this patriarchy and other systemic issues limiting the participation and equal treatment of fellow churchgoers. Some promote tolerance and acceptance of women not complying with social expectations of marriage and homemaking. Others are working towards the inclusion of their fellow members who happen to identify as lesbian or gay. The Exponent illustrates the many issues Mormon feminists are working on and steps to take towards resolution. 

I do not wish to downplay the historical nature and significance of Sister Stevens’ prayer during General Conference. I accept it as a long overdue change that needed to happen, and hope it’s only a pit stop to real progress and adjustments of systemic and institutionalized issues present. For me, progress runs deeper than putting a woman on a pulpit and letting her speak. It’s making changes so that everyone may be able to partake in worshipping their God, and eliminate fear for being accepted or safe in religious spaces. That will be progress worth tuning in for. 

Policy of Politics: Being Involved in the LGBT Mormon Movement

Now that I have established where I’ve been in last week’s vlog, I feel more confident in journeying forward. And though I do not know where my journey will take me and where I’ll end up, I do know that I want to do my part in creating safe and accepting spaces for LGBT-identified individuals within the LDS church. And while many may think this an impossible goal, the reality is that there are many activists working toward this common goal.

As I immerse myself in political causes and activism, I find it helpful to set some ground rules initially. Here are a few points I’d like to incorporate into my own politics as I work towards creating acceptable spaces for queer Mormons.

1. It’s about the power, not the identity

            Rather than rally around our identity of sexuality, we need to rally around our position to power, more specifically God. The idea of using relationship to power as the basis for coalitional politics is theorized by Cathy Cohen in “Punks, Bulldaggers, and Welfare Queens: The Radical Potential of Queer Politics.” If we truly apply biblical teachings that we are all his children, equally loved by him, and that our duty is to love one another, then members who don’t identify as straight can be included in the conception of the LDS church. Each of us is here on this Earth to experience life and learn what we need to before returning with our Heavenly Father. And that's something that *everyone* is and should be doing, regardless of sexuality or romantic relationships.

2. There’s strength in interfaith

             In addition to resisting to center politics around sexual identities, it may become useful to resist rallying exclusively around the identity of Mormon as well. I attended the “Circling the Wagons” conference in San Francisco last summer. As part of the conference, an interfaith worship service was held. This was, singlehandedly, one of the most spiritual and neatest experiences of my life. Not only was this personally useful, but helped me to realize that socially, the acceptance of LGBT members in religious spaces isn’t only a problem confined to the Mormon church. The point to include other faiths resists building a community around identity and prioritizing one identity with another, as noted in Miranda Joseph’s “Introduction: Persistent Critique Relentless Return” from her book Against the Romance of Community. And while religions may vary and spaces based on sect are still useful, politically uniting various religions is useful as it focuses on religion’s, as a whole, denial to queer worshipers the same treatment as their straight counterparts. In other words, it reiterates Cohen’s point on rallying around one’s relation to power and not identity (our religious ones, in this case).

3. A shift from politics of shame to politics of humility

            In collectively organizing, it is important to recognize the varying identities and experiences those who I am working with have. People involved in the LGBT Mormon movement are not all just gay, white men: these participants vary in gender, sexual identities, romantic relationships, and – most prominently – activity levels within the Church. While some remain active and attend church services, others choose not to do so. In collectively organizing, it is important to refrain from shaming other people and their experiences. Moreover, there should not be a hierarchy that privileges certain people and experiences over others. Instead, a politics of humility, where each individual is embraced and welcomed, should be stressed. For further reading about the politics of humility, the text “What’s Queer About Queer Studies Now” by David L. Eng with Judith Halberstam and Jose Estaban Munoz does an excellent job of dissecting this.  

Nightmares

I woke up early this morning. I can't stress enough how infrequent an occurrence this is, especially during the last week of school. I can't even remember the last time I woke up at 7:30 unintentionally. Anyway, I woke up because I was having a nightmare, which, in contrast to waking up early, is a very frequent occurrence. Oddly enough, the nightmares have been calming down lately, maybe because I've been so tired. But tonight's was a fun one. Bear in mind that I watched Easy A last night, which makes the public shaming make more sense.

I dreamed that at BYU, before General Conference, this special church man had to come around and verify that everyone was going to watch all four sessions of conference. This man was named Brother Skinner and was actually the guy from the X-Files who is in charge of Scully and Mulder and tries to help them sometimes by telling them to conform. Anyway, I morally objected to having to sign a paper saying that I was going to watch 8 hours of conference, so my professor helped me hide in the ceiling t avoid signing it. Alas, Brother Skinner found me hiding in the ceiling and dragged me into his office for questioning: aren't I a good Mormon? Why was I hiding, then? Don't I plan on watching all the sessions anyway? Why not sign a paper saying so? What am I so afraid of?

Anyway, I got out of signing the Official Conference Contract and went over to my cousins' house to write a paper. However, Conference was on in the background, and several people started giving talks about how evil I was, saying I didn't sign the paper and I wasn't a real Mormon and I was a bad person. The closing prayer was all about how they hoped I could repent and become a better person and sign the contract that said I was willing to be a good Mormon by watching Conference.

This led to me being livid and also panicking, and I called my mom to try to explain the situation to her. She was skeptical, told me I was a bad Mormon, and refused to listen to my side of the story. After all, she'd heard it in Conference, so it had to be true!

I then proceeded to write a letter to Feminist Mormon Housewives invoking a variety of Harry Potter metaphors to explain my innocence, which they rejected on the grounds that they were too rambly (alas, like most of the seminary papers I'm supposed to be working on right now). My uncle then was persuaded to go to church with his friend and informed me that someone in church had already given a talk on how I represented a particularly bad type of person, was a liar, and should be kicked out of the state immediately.

Then I was so panicked that I woke up. I know this doesn't sound like a big deal--actually, it's kind of funny. Compared to my frequent nightmares about rape and murder, it shouldn't be too bad. But I was still freaked out enough to wake up. I'm guessing this particular dream has to do with my dread about going home for Christmas Break. I was going to go to church with my family on the 23rd just to make an appearance; as my parents have frequently informed me, the whole ward knows of my exploits, including being liberal! advocating for abortion rights! dating an "older man" that my parents don't approve of! All of this, of course, is my own fault--everyone in my ward knows this because of facebook, and not because my parents have talked to seemingly everyone about my supposed exploits, leading me to encounter a variety of strangers that are connected to people in my ward about what a terrible daughter I am. Again, this is not my parents' fault, as they've told me many times! It's my own for being willing to swear on facebook, leading ward members to come to my parents in tears asking what happened to me!! And my poor defenseless parents of course have to agree with them about how evil I am because coming to my defense would be completely ridiculous!!!!

The nightmare thus indicates that I'm panicking about going home to my home ward because I'm worried that everyone has been gossiping behind my back and believes already that I'm a terrible person--which is the reason why I wanted to go, frankly, to hold my head high and show them that I'm the same smart, nice person they thought they knew so well when I was a kid. But the terror of going by myself and encountering all the girls I graduated with and knowing the whole time that my parents are scrutinizing me to make sure I'm paying attention--why is she writing in her journal instead of paying attention?? Is she TEXTING?!?--means it might not be worth it.

Still, I'm tired of my supposed ignominy in various circles. Friends moving out because they think I'm evil. Having to conform to my roommates' expectations because they assume I'm just as Mormon as them--though the new Packer and Beck quotes on the fridge might be to counteract all the gay literature and anti-bullying slogans we have on the fridge. This isn't necessarily my roommates' fault; why do I care so much anyway? If I were less insecure I could just be my own brand of Mormon or non-Mormon, as the case may be, and not worry about what anyone thought. But I'm stuck here at BYU, and I've gotten very good at policing myself, and I've gotten very good at conforming.

I don't really have anything else to say. This isn't meant to be a diatribe against the church; I still consider myself Mormon in a lot of ways, and I agree with the most central tenets of what Christ (and every prophet from Mohammed to Buddha) taught, which is that above everything else, we need to love each other. Which is what makes staying in the church so hard--I don't feel that love coming from, well, anyone, frankly, including my parents, who are supposed to be such! good! Mormons! Just like I should be!!!

Sidenote--can you tell I'm freaked out about staying at home for four days beyond just feeling like I have to go to church with my family? I'm already idolizing the knives they keep in the kitchen. Just going home for dinner on Sundays makes me depressed out of my mind. But, of course, I can't talk to my parents about any of this, because they've already said to my face that the fact that I feel uncomfortable in their house is, obviously, my fault. It's because I feel guilty about what a sinner I am, which is obviously why I don't want to go to church anymore! If I could just be less evil, then my parents wouldn't have to be disappointed in me! Because the fact that they're disappointed in me is completely my fault, and they bear no responsibility in making me feel bad! But they're sorry that I'm suicidal, and are more than willing to help, so I should definitely feel more comfortable calling them than my nice, helpful boyfriend if I'm ever feeling bad about myself, because that makes perfectly logical sense! And of course I'm not going to bring up any of those gay things around my poor, helpless, younger siblings, right? I have to watch my mouth, young lady, and make sure that I don't corrupt those poor high school-age children!

I didn't mean for this blog post to degenerate into a huge rant. I kind of wanted to write about the huge things that have been happening in the gay blogosphere, namely the new "mormons and gays" website (...lol) and the two cases going to the Supreme Court that will likely decide on the future of gay rights in America, which I am both excited and apprehensive about.  I guess my personal anxiety about going home is trumping that, which I'm sorry about. I'm still not sure if I'll go home for church in the 23rd. It's not like I owe my home ward anything, and it's not like I have anything to prove. I shouldn't care what they think of me--but I do. A lot. So I guess we'll see what happens.

In the meantime, it's starting to just lightly snow outside, which is nice. I'm listening to the Princess Mononoke soundtrack and thinking that it's more than time to watch my favorite Miyazaki movie again. I'm going to a friend's homecoming, which might be the reason for some of this anxiety, but I'm actually excited to hear him talk about his experiences and then go eat some food at his house and watch the snow. Maybe I'll wear my rosary and bring my Koran to feel better about sitting through Sacrament meeting, but I'm pretty sure it will be okay. And then, of course, it's back to the daily grindstone of the final weeks of grad school, which means working on my paper about human rights and forensics and the imperial West, even though I'd much rather be watching an episode of Supernatural. Or Psych, which has consistently gotten me through a variety of hard times. Go figure.

I'm off to go get ready now, and scrounge up something warm to wear. I hope you all have a pleasant Sunday and a nice week. Here's the poem of the week, as usual. Happy Sunday, everyone.


MEDITATIONS AT LAGUNITAS
Robert Hass

All the new thinking is about loss.
In this it resembles all the old thinking.
The idea, for example, that each particular erases
the luminous clarity of a general idea. That the clown-
faced woodpecker probing the dead sculpted trunk
of that black birch is, by his presence,
some tragic falling off from a first world
of undivided light. Or the other notion that,
because there is in this world no one thing
to which the bramble of blackberry corresponds,
a word is elegy to what it signifies.
We talked about it late last night and in the voice
of my friend, there was a thin wire of grief, a tone
almost querulous. After a while I understood that,
talking this way, everything dissolves: justice,
pine, hair, woman, you and I. There was a woman
I made love to and I remembered how, holding
her small shoulders in my hands sometimes,
I felt a violent wonder at her presence
like a thirst for salt, for my childhood river
with its island willows, silly music from the pleasure boat,
muddy places where we caught the little orange-silver fish
called pumpkinseed. It hardly had to do with her.
Longing, we say, because desire is full
of endless distances. I must have been the same to her.
But I remember so much, the way her hands dismantled bread,
the thing her father said that hurt her, what
she dreamed. There are moments when the body is as numinous
as words, days that are the good flesh continuing.
Such tenderness, those afternoons and evenings,
saying blackberry, blackberry, blackberry.

Both Sides Now

Hi bloggers.
So, it's been decided that I will be around for a while now.
Back as a regular Sunday blogger.

Since I've graduated from BYU I'm now free to think and say what I want, so I've made a few more videos on my channel "Both Sides Now: Mormon and Lesbian"


First of all: I GRADUATED FROM BYU!!!!!





Second: No Longer Mormon





Third (because I know you wanted the next one since I mentioned it in the last one):
Losing My Religion--Stages of Grief




I encourage you all to actually watch these on YouTube and to post comments (because I would feel so validated to have comments--encouraging or otherwise). Also, stay tuned for more vids to come. You'll definitely want to see the ones that happen in July :)

~live your own truth~

Favorite, Not So Much, and Just Plain Awesome!!

So I was thinking about social expectations, and I asked some of my friends to tell me their favorite social expectations, their not so favorite, and ones they thought were awesome or odd.

Jen says her least favorite expectation is “that going on a mission is the only indication of whether or not a guy is a good person.” Robbie said one of his least favorite was “that a mission will make guys automatically mature.” His favorite was “SHOWERS!!” Agreed. Then Tristan’s odd one “ ‘Wait, you’re from ___, you must know my good friend ___!’—obviously people from the same state know each other.…”

We can relate to all these. Especially showers … hopefully. So after reading these I felt like I should make my list.

I’ll start with the odd (AKA awesome) one. So I learned of this one from my psychology professor (who was AWESOME btw, if you go to BYU take REBER’s psych 111). He was talking about social expectations we all fall into (like facing the door when you get into an elevator), and my favorite was the shopping cart expectation. We don’t shop out of other’s shopping carts. And why not? They haven’t purchased those items. They don’t belong to them. Even though they have technically “dibbed” them, they’re not necessarily theirs. So I think it would be awesome to just start shopping out of someone else’s shopping cart.

Okay happy moment gone, back to serious.

I’m a convert. I’ve mentioned this before, but I believe it’s a huge part of who I am. Just because I believe in Christ now and do my best to follow the Church doesn’t mean I always have. Back in my hometown everyone knew my family (and their problems) for generations. So seeing as I’m one of the youngest of the last generation to live in this tiny, gossip-filled, hick town, I was the last “Potter” (family name, awesome, I know) to be judged by the people in my town for generations past. And I loved it. They all thought the worst of me which made me constantly want to prove them wrong. I’m thankful for everyone who doubted me because they were just a stepping stone to get where I am now. When I left that town, I was terrified at the thought of not having people look down upon me for fear I wouldn’t have someone to prove wrong. I was certainly wrong about that. Which brings me to my least favorite expectation: perfect Mormons.

I was guilty of this expectation when I first arrived at BYU. I thought everyone around me was perfect, and I was just this sinner drowning in a sea of Zion’s elite. So I wandered, ridiculously depressed, for two semesters, telling myself I would move to Portland where I could sin in peace. Then I went to work this summer at a place where I actually met other Mormons (I pretty much lived under a rock my freshmen year). And I was pleasantly surprised. The people I worked with weren’t just these mindless clones going around being perfect. They had faults. This one night I was out with some of them and this one guy who wasn’t a member joked with his friend about how he couldn’t listen to music that cursed. His response, “Damn it! I’ll listen to whatever the hell I want.” Is it odd that after that I instantly trusted him? He wasn’t perfect, and I was drawn to that. So the summer went on. I was on the watch for people who weren’t perfect. But after I got past all the judging I was doing, I thought about what I discovered. For example, three boys. All very different. I judge people on their taste in music. So one was classical, one was more punk with an eighties rock edge, and another hip hop/top 40 kind of guy. One was shy and sweet, another in your face and blunt, and another dorky yet cool. But all three had one thing in common. They believed in Christ. They were all LDS, but they were so different! That summer taught me that Mormons had thoughts and feelings (shocking I know) but that wasn’t something I quite grasped until then. Before, I kept trying to take the pre-baptized me and the post-baptized person I thought I was supposed to be and smash them together. After that I realized that I could be just me and that was okay.

I learned that I didn’t need to cram myself into this little box that I had defined as Mormonism. I could be free, allow myself a little wiggle room. So I challenge you all this week to break the social expectations laid out for you. If you are LDS I’m not telling you to go off and sin on purpose, but don’t hate yourself if you make a mistake. And if people think you suck prove them wrong. And please, please, shop out of others shopping carts.

My two songs to leave you with this week:

Defying Gravity (Glee version)



Because A) I <3 Kurt

And B) This song is all about achieving your dreams. Taking that leap and going for it. When I get discouraged about my dream of making it on the ballroom company, I listen to this song and think Heck yes! I can dance!

And…

Someday by No More Kings



This song is just kind of fun and upbeat. But it has a good message about finding yourself and not being so hard if you don’t have it all figured out right now. As the song goes, “Someday I won’t be so self-defeating. Won’t kick me when I’m bleeding.” Someday you’ll just know. But don’t take my word for it. Listen and make your own interpretations.

Pride

I went to Pride for the first time today.

The parade was long.

And it all wasn't as fun as I expected.

Sure there were lots of people to look at.

And I finally found a nice = sticker to slap on my water bottle.

I know that homosexual is a term often used to categorize people's sexuality, but I felt like there was too much focus on SEX.

Men all over the place walking around in Speedos or boxerbriefs.

Too much PDA.

Condoms thrown out during the parade (which the children picked up!).

Don't get me wrong. I'm not overly prudish.

Or maybe I am.

I just don't think that my sexuality needs to be on display for everyone.

I've been to parades to honor pioneer heritage. And people dress up in thick pioneer dresses and bonnets and they pull handcarts down main street. That's something I can be proud about. My ancestors (or at least someone's) crossed all the crummy middle states (no offense to anyone) to get to gorgeous Utah only to find huge black crickets, a nasty salty lake, and sagebrush. People DIED while making that trek towards religious freedom. Towards life without persecution.

I've seen parades honoring the birth of my very own nation--The United States of America. People crossed the ocean when it took weeks to do so. They fought in the Civil War and the Revolutionary War. People worked together for freedom. Religious freedom. Freedom of Speech. Great people worked hard and wrote some fabulous documents that established the foundation of a whole nation, which they hoped would reach the world--the idea that every person is entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That's something to take pride in.

Now, a bunch of people marching in high heels and speedos while tossing out condoms...

I realized something today. I'm not proud. I love activism. I love being who I am. I love the idea of loving who I am, and being proud of who I am. But I am not proud to stand with my fellow gay Utahns who shove things in people's faces and encourage each other to go kiss on Temple Square just to show the Mormons that we do whatever we want. Not once did I see a Mormon protesting against the Utah Pride celebrations. Someone please let me know if they saw anything like that. I'm not proud of flamboyancy, or too much PDA, or anything bordering on nudity. I do not like to see condoms thrown out at children--where is the pride in that? Life does not revolve around sex. If that's what it means to be gay or to be lesbian, then I have no pride.