the most selfish and brave thing by e

This week's post is about this four minute long clip from the afternoon, American talk show, Ellen: Ellen Page on Coming Out

First off, E's favorite parts and commentary of the clip....
     1:28- Page talks about being trilled to be at a point in her life where she can verbalize it

Coming out is such a personal thing, and it takes being in the right place at the right time.  You have to have the right support system, be in the right type of housing, and have the right kind of job.  Could you imagine losing any one of those things, just for saying that you are not straight or cisgender?  It happens, way too much.

     1:48- DeGeneres talks about coming out being the most selfish thing anyone can do

Coming out puts a lot pressure on those around us to reevaluate the way they see us, the way they talk to us, and the way they talk about us.  It also makes someone reevaluate the ENTIRE way they view not straight and transgender individuals.  Coming out of the closet is selfish because for the most part, it almost entirely only benefits you, but those benefits SOO out weight the costs.  For those of us in the closet anyway.

     2:00- Page talking about her life getting better since coming out

Page talked about feeling less stress, being happier, and everything just generally getting better.  When I first came out, everything seemed so much better, but I wasn't in the right place so things fell through a little bit.

     2:23- DeGeneres talking about how coming out gets rid of the self-shame that comes from being closeted

A million times yes!!  When you are in the closet the shame comes from so many places.  Peer pressure to be out, peer pressure to be in.  Pressure from your internal self to pick which peer pressure to give into.  Self-shame from not being able to choose.  Self-shame from feeling like a horrible person for not being straight.  And coming out, first to yourself and then to others, makes being not straight an okay thing and all of a sudden you have NOTHING to feel shame over! And. It. Feels. AMAZING!!

     3:21- Page talking about getting to be yourself at work, wear what you want and talk about ex's

This is something I wish like hell that I could do, be myself at work. But I'm not that out yet.  I wish that I could be; I wish that I could talk about the people I want to date and why I shaved part of my head, and why I like going to Pride so much that I made getting time off for it a contingency of my returning work when I moved back to Utah.  Getting to be out at work, getting to bring your significant other to work functions and hold their hand...that is the dream I'm working on making a reality right now.

So much that I like happened in this tiny clip alone!! What are your thoughts?

i should have known by e

I should have known that I was gayer than the average heterosexual when I saw pictures of girl/girl couples and was jealous.

I should have known that I was gayer than the average heterosexual when I met girl/girl couples and wished I was gay so I could have a girlfriend too.

I should have known that I was gayer than the average heterosexual when I started fantasizing about what a female coworker's fingers could do to me.

I should have known that I was gayer than the average heterosexual when, as my wedding day approached, I started to wish, desperately, that I had kissed a girl so I could know what it was like before I signed my life over to a heterosexual relationship.

I should have known that I was gayer than the average heterosexual.  But I didn't.  I kept pushing these thought back and saying, "If only I was gay then I could do these things I want to."  I don't know why I didn't stop and go, "E, you are having these thoughts and feelings because you like women; stop wishing you did because you do!"

How many years did I waste, relationships I could have had, relationships I could have avoided, because I wasn't willing to be out to myself?  Why did it take me so long before I finally came out to myself? I certainly don't know!  But I do know that I'm now living as a bi/pan, not straight female and am happy.

my coming out by e

My coming out can be summed up in one Youtube video, from my favorite show, found here (please watch it or nothing I write will make a hellva lotta sense)

My whole adult life I had been with men too.  I had liked having sex with them, even enjoyed some of them.  But it wasn't until I kissed a woman, had sex with a woman, fell for a woman, that I felt alive!  That is not to say that men I had been with weren't wonderful, caring, loving men.  They just weren't for me.  The women that I have been with, they have been glasses.

I love women and want a girlfriend.  Whenever I see pictures like this it makes me want to fall in love with a beautiful blue jean femme who loves to work outside, ride horses, read, drink wine, take long bathes, go hiking and camping, has long hair... I want to fall for a beautiful woman and be in love with her and her with me for a long long time.

I am a non-straight, bi-pan-queer female who wants a girlfriend.  Maybe I'm not ready for her right now, but I want to meet her someday, when we are both ready.

When I Came Out By E

Five months ago today I was sitting across the table from my mom at our favorite restaurant.  It was my birthday lunch and I was super nervous because today I was going to tell her why I broke up with the guy she wanted me to marry, a guy I had been with for two and half years, a guy I loved.  This guy and I broke up because I decided that I liked women.  The following are the reactions of my family members after I came out them.

Agnostic Mom: Am I supposed to be surprised?

Blonde Sister: You’re an ally, not one of them! *tears*

Mormon Brother: *high five* Was that everything?

Red-headed Sister: Can I get back to my movie?

Mormon Dad: Nothing can change how much I love you.

The only adverse reaction I’ve gotten from the members of my family was from Blonde Sister.  She hates the idea that I like women because for my entire life she’s seen me as one way, liking only men, and now she has to see me in a different way.  I have wondered of the last few months why me liking girls is such an issue for her, even if it is because she has to see me differently.  I don’t know if I’ll ever understand why it bugs her so much. I wish I could talk to my sister about things, like girls I have crushes on and such.  Maybe one day… I hope.

I Got Out ("It's All Alright" -Fun)

This is my first time writing on a blog..... Ever. I wish I could say that I had some clue of what I was doing here, but in all honesty I don't. I'm not usually an open book...in fact if you were to ask anybody that knows me they would tell you I was the exact opposite. With that said I am trying to be more open and what better place than here. I don't know where to start or how to introduce myself. So I'll start from where it gets Interesting. 

It was October 8th 2013. Five days after my 25th birthday. I remember waking up that morning with no hope. Like every ounce of happiness and ability to rationalize and look towards a better future had been stolen, robbed in my sleep. I sat in bed that morning and contemplated the question William Shakespeare so brilliantly approached in Hamlet. "To be or not to be". I don't remember much after that thought. Looking back I can remember choosing to take my life but I don't remember the selling point. The straw that broke the camels back. What I do remember is waking up in the hospital with nothing. No feelings towards anything or anybody. I remember being overwhelmed with emotions of  helplessness, loneliness, being scared, mad, confused, and yet....I felt nothing. I remember the looks on my family's faces as they stood over me asking me questions I knew I wouldn't be able to answer. However, of all the things I remember...the one thing that sticks out is remembering the relief that over came me as I came to the realization that I had been given a second chance. At that moment the deciding factors to take my own life did not seem relevant or important. At that moment I knew things were going to change. That I was going to change.  That day I cowardly came out to my family. At the age of 25 I was finally admitting who I was. Not only to myself but to family. To make a long story short my family was nothing short of supportive. My Mom is constantly reminding me of how happy she is I "Got Out" and strangely enough that's how I feel. Like for all these years I had been trapped in this mindset that nothing could make me better. That I was broken and worthless. After years and years of battling with myself I can happily and proudly say I GOT OUT! I have never been happier and though at times I feel down, nothing is as worse as feeling nothing. 

My name is Jaimee. I'm 25 years old. I am mormon and love my religion and I'm a lesbian. I came out one month ago and if I have learned anything from my experience its that "It's All Alright". At this point in my life I have NO IDEA what I'm doing. I guess through all this rambling and mess what I'm trying to say is we are in this together.... and it will be alright. 

Jaimee.

Introductions and Greetings!

I

Well good morning and hello! Is the graphic a bit much? ;)

I found a request for "Breaking the Silence" for blogging, and I'm happy to be able to write for them! It took me a bit to get started, but I'm happy to report I'll be writing just random things, posts, requests, poems, and personal experiences as it relates to my own ideas. So without further ado, let's begin!

I guess the best way to start is by introducing who I am and why I want to blog. My name is Terence Waters, a 29-year-old gay man living in Salt Lake City.  I currently do freelance work, graphic design mainly, along with another full-time job, being a full-time student, and have many hobbies. I've found a lot of enjoyment in various activities, but particularly in the arts, including playing music and piano, the theatre, drawing/sketching, reading and writing, blogging, public speaking, technology and telecommunications, PCs, dining out, networking, and the business world. I also crave knowledge, for reading is a beautiful thing, especially when it involves current events and so forth. I'll constantly post interesting reads I've found on Twitter, Facebook, and Google+, and love just gaining insight on anything and everything!

In my personal life, I've experienced quite a bit in my coming out story and sexuality, and I hope that somehow my experiences I write about in my blog posts touch those who decide to read them. I hope to also help some of those experiencing trouble dealing with same-sex attraction, especially in wake of the LDS (Mormon) Church and its principles, for I was exactly in that same place. Because of my experiences and trials, I found that reaching out was the best way to help me deal with my worries and feelings, and maybe my blog posts can help you as the reader if you're in this situation as well.

To backtrack, I was (and technically still am) a former member, and still recall how difficult it was to be able to come out and talk about myself to my family, my friends, even to me solely. My father was a Bishop and Stake High Councilman, my mother a Relief Society President, both still married, enjoying life, and worked hard for their income each day to provide for our family.

As for me, I was in the Aaronic Priesthood, consequently trying to understand the urges I was feeling as a teenager while at the same time being full-time in school, working through life, landing a scholarship for college, and graduating as one of the top students in my high school class. After coming out (i.e. explaining openly that I am a gay male) during college, I then experienced various trials, confusion, and even diseases and health problems in relation to trying to find my true self. But through constant understanding and love for myself, great emotional and spiritual help, and overall amazing friends and family, now I can truly say I am a happy person for being the person I am today: gay, a designer, and a newly mature man based on my trials and experiences received. It is not just about the same-sex attraction in my life; rather, it is instead a part of me that still allows me to be a productive member of society...which I now can say has enlightened my life.

I plan to use a lot of these details (both good and bad) in future blogs, for I do not wish to bore you personally as my reader right off the bat here. Instead, I wished to give you an understanding and knowledge of what it is I truly wish to write about and to introduce myself to you, the reader of my post in "Breaking the Silence". I'm rather excited to get started and share some of my personal experiences and life's journeys to better help you, the reader, see what great things a man or a woman can achieve while also being a part of the LDS/Mormon AND LGBT Community. And also, I'll add some fun stuff, like poetry, random, appropriate jokes I'll encounter, and even personal experiences that I hope will entertain and inspire you!

Finally, I welcome comments and will read each one received. Feel free to ask questions, and I will make a reasonable effort to respond if I am able. :) Come, my fellow reader, and explore with me the deep, inner regions, of my inner psyche. Be amused, entertained, and uplifted ;)

~Terence Waters
@terrokkinit on Twitter
Terence Waters on Facebook

Hi, I'm E

Hi, my name is E, I grew up in Small Town, Utah, am ex-Mormon, love my horse and my cats, have one college degree, am working on a second, love taking photos, have dreams of managing a horse farm and being a published author, and I am attracted women AND men.

I love to write about anything and everything, but only when I know that someone is going to read it. I think I like it best that way for the same reason that I don’t like to talk to myself, I’m the only one that’s hearing my awesome! But I digress.  I will most likely be using this as a sounding board for what I see and feel as an ex-Mormon who doesn’t fit into the conventional heterosexual dichotomy.  I hate labels and so I don’t choose to call myself anything, like bi or pan or lez.  I love having sex with men and women. I’ve only ever been in serious relationships with men, but have hopes of having a girlfriend someday.

My experiences, how I see things, it is only my view, my tiny little pixel in the grand photo of live and should NEVER been used as an example of what is “normal” for someone who experiences homosexual attraction.

I first knew I liked women when I started having dreams about a coworker.  I was still very entrenched in Mormonism and thought that I was going to hell, so I stuffed how I felt deep down inside and left in there.  There it festered and boiled and came to a head when I was five months away from my wedding.  I was engaged to a man, a man I loved with everything I had, but I could not get the idea that I liked women out of my head.  When I told him, he said that I should experiment, so that I knew for sure if I was gay or not.  So I kissed a girl and liked it way more than I did kissing him.  We broke up and now I’m trying to figure out what my life is, what it means and what it will be.

I am out to those who ask, and have told my parents and siblings that I like women. I am not out at work, as I work in a male-dominated field and anti-gay sentiment is common. (read: I’m not brave enough, yet, to being that voice)

I have a mild case of ADD, it doesn’t disrupt my life, but it does make talking with me interesting.  It also makes my writing interesting as I tend to jump around. And though it may seem disconnected to some, it all makes sense to me.

I am seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist for depression and anxiety. Coming out, especially while you live in Utah, with your more-liberal-than-some-but-still-vote-red Mormon family, can be hard.

And on a final, seemingly random note, does anyone reading this watch NBC? Lately they have been running a lot of commercials where the athletes talk about why the Olympics in Sochi should be watched.  Those Olympics aren’t til February, and I can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with the Russian anti-gay laws and attempted boycott of the Olympics...curious, no?

Until next week, my name is E and I like the color of the sky :)

Coming Out About...Coming Out

This past week, NBA star Jason Collins came out as a gay male. First, I will endorse Collins’ published letter in Sports Illustrated, which can be read here.

Second, allow me to critique the other media buzz surrounding Collins and coming out. One particular headline I saw that rubbed me the wrong way?

Pro basketball player Jason Collins appears in his first interview since coming out.

Now, I understand the innocence in this headline. But still, I beg the question: what does it matter?

Headlines and hoopla like this are precisely reason enough to keep people in the closet, to prevent them from openly claiming their sexuality. Phrases and attitudes like this treat it like a big deal, like coming out makes people completely different from who they were before. I can testify that I am the same person as before, only now I’m cluing people in to my preferences. And taking more fashion risks.

I have long wanted to write about coming out, because I think there are many problematic discourses surrounding it. In particular, the act of coming out and ways of doing it act as a singular prescription for all. In reality, no one gay or LGBTQ-identified person’s experience is the same as another’s. My experience is not the same as someone else’s experience. What works for me may not work for someone else, because each of us have different factors and circumstances that may or may not affect us. We’re individuals. We have individual lives.

I do not wish to speculate about the life of Jason Collins, since I do not know him or his life personally. But I do wish to highlight his acknowledgment of social factors preventing him from feeling comfortable coming out, as well his privileges in doing so. These highlight important social issues affecting LGBTQ-identified individuals, as well as notions of gender and sexuality.

Collins admits, “I'm glad I'm coming out in 2013 rather than 2003. The climate has shifted; public opinion has shifted. And yet we still have so much farther to go.” And while Collins attempts to not make this a progress narrative by confessing we have much farther to travel, I can’t help but wonder…for whom has the climate shifted? And which public has changed their opinion? For many who remain in the LDS Church, laughter ensues.

Collins also admits his own privilege in coming out. Collins states as “a free agent, literally and figuratively…I've reached that enviable state in life in which I can do pretty much what I want,” admitting his privilege in being a free agent, which he perceives as the opportunity to come out do whatever he wants. Additionally, he admits that he goes against “the gay stereotype, which is why I think a lot of players will be shocked: That guy is gay? But I've always been an aggressive player, even in high school. Am I so physical to prove that being gay doesn't make you soft?” I cringe because I wonder what’s so wrong with abiding by the stereotype? Can we just forget notions of traditional masculinity and be who we are?

Coming out can be hard, difficult, and in many situations, not option. I myself, along with many readers of this blog, have grown up in Mormon families. Some even continue practicing the religion, whether in those spaces or elsewhere. In our situations, coming out can be a difficult thing. Reconciling long-held familial beliefs with one’s sexuality, in addition to worrying about acceptance and tolerance from one’s own family, remains a striking issue for many of us. Add in concerns with church policies and manners of treating its LGBTQ-identified members, and coming out doesn’t seem as much fun as staying in anymore.  

My belief is this: in regards to coming out, I would want anyone to do it on their own will, agenda, and desire. There’s already so much pressure to adhere to heterosexuality and a traditional life, claiming one’s sexuality and personal identity should not be pressured as well. It’s an individual action that must be done the individual feels is the right time, if at all. Kudos to Jason Collins for being able to do so. I hope it’s a positive thing for him. But it's not the only narrative of a gay man.  

I don't give a shit.

Let me just start out by saying I don’t agree with a lot of things gay Mormon bloggers say or think. I think many of them are parroting things they’ve heard, agreed with, and so decided were right. I think that if they have spent time thinking about the concepts they write about, it is only in a spiral of self-confirming anecdotes, not a critical exploration and certainly not with any desire to see if “the other side” might have a point. The blogosphere in general feels to me like the whining of four year olds coupled with the writing level of teenagers. I am a dispirited, disappointed, unhappy camper. And bitter a little.

Now, today’s topic: the gay identity. I don't think this will be my only post on the subject. I’ve lost count of the various pissing contests over “gay” versus “same sex attracted” and whatever else, and I just want to say, I don’t give a shit. Personally I think “same sex attracted” is fine, but I don’t use it because it’s stupid long even if you abbreviate it. “Gay” wins on that front even though I don’t feel it’s entirely accurate for me because “homoromantic asexual-leaning” is even longer than “SSA,” and “queer,” though otherwise my favorite, still has a negative connotation. You know. From the days when it still meant “weird.”

When I was seventeen I went to an Evergreen conference in SLC, and for about a year after that the distinction between “gay” and “SSA” was a big deal for me. It helped me acknowledge my orientation and my religious disbelief more or less separately, since there was a space in Mormonism for “SSA” but not “gay,” and at the time I couldn’t have dealt with both. “I’m same sex attracted, Mom, not gay. I’m not going to live the lifestyle.”

“SSA” let my put the whole question of liking guys on hold while I dealt with the question of “Is Mormonism God’s thing?” It simultaneously let my parents get used to the idea of me being attracted to boys without pushing the possibility of a flesh-and-blood I’m-sinning-with-this-guy boyfriend in their faces. A year later when I’d more or less decided against Mormonism and started using “gay” around my mom, she was upset a little, but nothing like she would have been if I’d insisted on “gay” right away. You will probably never convince me that there is no place for “SSA” as a descriptor. I say that if the distinction is important to someone, let them have it.

This is another way of saying that I don’t fully identify with “the gay identity.” You do? That’s great. That’s excellent! I’m happy for you, but don’t assume everyone agrees just because they’re gay. Some of us use it only because it’s the closest approximation to truth, not because it’s truth itself.

Two old blog posts pushed my mind to this topic last week: This woman kept her religion and her gay identity. This woman did not. Their writing made me think.

***

I passed the Navy officer aptitude test. (Mentioned it here, remember.) My score was in the top quartile, so I’m cleared to continue my application. 

Related: This week I will think about a boy who, if I go into the Navy, I will have approximately zero chance with.

***

In case you want to laugh / cry.

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Closet Muzzle

Not done talking about coming out.

BYU. October 2008. Walking past “Yes on 8” booths in the Wilk every day, wrapped up in layers and layers of clothing because my hatred of cold is a well-documented and immutable fact. There was no snow on the ground, but the trees were bare and the sky was gray and mostly I kept my head down and shrunk in on myself as I walked past the booths.

One day I came up from the basement where the counseling center is and the first thing I saw was “Yes on 8.” I walked up to the blonde who was handing out fliers and I said “I know you have your reasons for what you’re doing, but I want you to know it hurts me and people like me a lot.” I don’t remember how she answered. I don’t know if she ever thought about what I’d said after I walked away. To be honest, I don’t care.

My counselor and I had been talking about feeling muzzled in the church and at the university, like it wasn’t acceptable for me to say what I thought, and the important thing that happened that day happened inside my head. Something shifted there. The muzzle snapped and my quiet, calm, hurt little nineteen-year-old voice popped out and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. It was my whole most important thing and—again!—it didn’t matter whether hearing it changed anything for the listener. Once I’d said it, I could say it again, and I could say other true things, and the hurt shifted.

When you’re in the closet, see, the first pain come from being alone and unheard and unable to speak. Everything else, every discrimination and insult, is secondary to that fact, that first limit inside your skull, and as long as the closet muzzle is there, there’s only little little little you can do about the rest.

I shed that back in 2008. I spoke and spoke and spoke and in fact probably spoke more than I should have, but sometimes we go a little crazy with freedom.

 When I first got to Japan, I didn’t feel muzzled. I just didn’t speak. The problem is that over time the muscles atrophied, or the muzzle grew back, or . . . something. When that kid said what he said, I wanted to say something but didn’t-couldn't, and that scared me. Now I feel like it’s a choice again.

I do wonder if it’s just laziness. I do wonder if I’d feel stronger if I chose differently.

***

About a committed relationship. I was thinking about this because the friend who was visiting last week is a bit more than just a friend. At one time, years ago, there was an alternate future in my head that involved us getting married and starting a family. 

The thing is, being here with him was wonderful, but that I-want-to-be-with-you-always feeling isn’t there anymore. We’re different people than we were, and I think we both like our current selves better than the people we were. I at least am acres of rolling green hills happier with now me than I was with then-me. If we’d gotten together in college, I think being in a relationship would have stifled a lot of these good changes. You can't just move to Seattle / New York / Japan when you're in a relationship. Cross-country road trips are harder to coordinate. Poverty's harder to ignore.

We'd've grown in other ways, I'm sure, but I wonder if I'd like that me better.  If you’re having similar thoughts about making decisions and giving up lives that could be, you might enjoy this exquisite essay.

***

This week, I’m going to take the officer aptitude test for the Navy. I'll probably want to say something about the military next Saturday.

"OH, are you gay?!"

I was about to teach a class a month ago, third period, to Japanese junior high third graders (US high school freshmen). Everything was going fine, students talking or playing cards or whatever they do between classes, and then one of them turns to me and says, “OH, are you gay?!”

That was an awkward moment for me.

He was obviously joking, of course. He’s that kind of outspoken silly student, and teachers in Japan are never gay—in fact, no one is really gay here unless they’re on TV or in a metropolis. He could barely contain his laughter, so pleased with himself for being so subversive as to suggest that his teacher was, y’know. Like that.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head as if to say, “Oh, you. You and your crazy ways,” and at the time that seemed like a good compromise, the highest ground between outright lying and coming out. The more I look back on it, though, the less satisfied I am. The more I look back at it, the more I see fear and dishonesty and fractured integrity.

There are reasons for not coming out. There are zero anti-discrimination laws for nonheterosexuals here, and what few laws there are for workers in general don’t really apply to foreigners; there’s a good chance that if I’d been honest with my student I would have gotten fired (and consequently deported) because of it. Even if that hadn’t happened, It would have made the rest of the school year pretty uncomfortable. I judge this from the way my loud and mischievous student’s teacher apologized, mortified that his student had done something so insulting as question my heterosexuality, even jokingly.

These reasons do not, in my mind, excuse me for pretending to be straight. I’m not straight. If there’s anything I learned from BYU and Mormonism, it’s that pretending to be straight is a violence to my self. I was raised on stories of men being crucified or burned alive or thrown into lions’ dens rather than violate their truth. My ancestors walked across the Great Plains for their truth, and I’m not willing to suffer a few months of extremely polite awkwardness or, at worst, an early plane ride back to California?

To be honest, I’m not sure what to make of this experience even after a month. I don’t know that I’d answer differently now, even though I’m pretty sure in my head that that would be the moral, honest thing to do. There are concerns of language and appropriateness and privacy that I haven’t been able to work out.

I do get some comfort from John, though, who lied about knowing Christ. Sometimes we’re just too weak to do the right thing.

***

This week, I’m going to decide whether or not I want to stay closeted here in Japan, and why.

***

I’m pleased to be writing for BtS. I think it's pretty awesome, and I think I’m pretty awesome, and I hope you'll think I'm pretty awesome too. I know you probably have a long list of other blogs to read, but if you have a moment, I'd like to know what you think of this. And this post.

Ode to a Gay Blogger

My coming out story has been tumultuous to say the least and, unfortunately, it is far from over.  I can say, however, that the greatest strides I’ve made with loving who I am and coming to terms with myself has happened since I started writing for this blog.  Truth be told, my co-authors have helped me cultivate a greater understanding of what it means to be gay and, more importantly, what it means to be me and I will be forever in their debt.

So, I dedicate this post to my lovely co-contributors here at Breaking the Silence, I love all of you!

Lee – 

I know you’re new and I don’t know you that well but I am grateful for your example.  The courage I have already seen you display on this blog and in person truly astound me.  I am much older than you (in fact, you make me feel old but that is entirely beside the point) but you are strides ahead of me in this life and I look up to you in so many ways.

Your strength and example of coming out and being proud of who you are at such a young age is not only impressive, but it is also a testament to your courage and character.  Thank you for sharing your voice with this blog and being a positive example to countless others.  You have truly become one of my heroes.

Bailey – 

You are such a lovely person and I am so grateful you let me into your life a little bit more each week.  We’ve never met and I don’t know that we will ever have the opportunity to meet – this makes me sad.  I hope that one day our paths will cross because you are such a unique and fascinating individual and I know my life would be greatly enriched.  You have so much personality and a strength about you that I think is incredibly rare; love who you are and let your beautiful light shine! You are amazing!

Thank you for taking us on your weekly adventures and sharing your story. I know life can be very challenging and, from what you’ve shared, you may have additional challenges that we haven’t had to address.  I just hope you know that you are loved by many and that all of us on the blog are grateful for who you are and we are all rooting for you!  I also hope you know that you have changed my life for the better.  Thank you for being you!

Dupree – 

I love the visual journeys you often take me on.  I love hearing your dreams, your goals, your frustrations, and your loves.  Your strength and willingness to be who you are so openly and willingly is truly beautiful.  I am so glad you have stuck with the blog and I know that you will continue to bless all of your readers with your sweet personality and outstanding charisma.

I am also grateful for your courage to be so open with your mother, your coworkers, and everyone on Facebook.  I don’t know when I will get to that point (and I will, eventually) but I am so impressed with your strength and I hope you know how wonderful and refreshing it is to watch you be you – all of you – in such a public forum.  Thank you for your sterling example.

Tiff –

First of all, thank you for starting and maintaining this blog.  I know you have been to hell and back and I am so grateful for the example you have been to me and to the countless others who read and share this blog.  The wonderful impact you have made on me and continue to make on others is outstanding. I cannot adequately express my gratitude and love for you!

On a personal level, I am so glad I have had the opportunity to meet you and be counted as one of your friends.  You are a beautiful ball of energy and love and I cannot remember meeting anyone who loves life and enjoys the beauty of the world around us as easily and readily as you.  Thank you for your courage and conviction and your love.  You mean the world to me and I am so glad you are in my life!

Jo –

My dear, once-long-lost friend, I am so grateful you are back in my life.  You are wonderful in every sense of the word.  I don’t think I have ever met anyone so genuine and caring in my whole life!  The authentic manner you live your life is not only encouraging, it is impressive.  I just love you so much!

Thank you for posting your LGBT Voices entries on Facebook so I could anonymously read them until finally, one day, I had the courage to “like” your status and ask you to submit a guest post.  Within a week or two I was the new Monday blogger and I haven’t looked back since.  You are, in large part, responsible for helping me find my voice and myself.  I will be forever grateful for your beautiful example and for your sweet patience with me.  Thank you for everything and I truly hope you know that you are one of my favorite people (you always have been – at least when I wasn’t jealous of your unnatural musical ability!!!).  Much love to you – always and forever!

The Things I've Left Behind

I've been thinking about my dad lately, though I'm not sure why.
He was never around much when I was a kid
always working
or playing bishop.
I have very few memories that involve him
which breaks my heart.
He was quiet.
I was quiet.
We shared a passion for the mountains
and for music
But very seldom did we ever do those things together.

I feel like he tried to be a good dad.
I'm sure he did.
Parenting has got to be hard,
especially when you have 8 children who all want your attention.

What little we had of a "relationship" unraveled last year when I came out to my family.
He wrote me a 9 page letter,
single-spaced,
telling me that I was possessed by demons,
that continuing down this path was sinful,
that repentance and accepting God were the only ways to find happiness.

I haven't talked to him much since.
I'm not angry.
But that was a relationship I needed to walk away from for a while.
Right now I need to be surrounded by people who support me,
who love me for me,
who are not trying to change me into something I'm not.
I spent way too many years doing that and trying to "repent" and "accept God"
and all I found was depression and empty relationships.

I wish I could tell him, though, how truly happy I am.
How much I love being me, now that I am authentic.
How I have learned to love people so much more
by loving myself.
I wish he would believe me.
Sometimes I wish I could share my life with him.
I wish I could call him up and tell him about Tiffany
and how much I love her,
how much fun we have together,
how this is real.

But I can't.

Not now.
Because he still feels like poison to my soul.
Something has got to change before I will allow him back into my heart.
Something needs to shift.
Maybe I'm just missing the idea of him since we never had much of a relationship to begin with.
Who knows?

But for now, my dad will remain
one of the things I've left behind.

Maybe we can find each other again someday.

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?

Coming Out: Pros And Cons

I’m sitting out on the porch swing. To the West I see a beautiful mountain, and to the East I see a miniature golf course and other play equipment. Last Sunday I moved up to my job, and in the mountains I will stay for the summer. I’ve worked here for a year now. And every day I keep thinking it wasn’t like this last summer. Last summer I hated the idea of spending four months away from my friends. I hated the idea of meeting new people. I might have even hated the idea of cleaning toilets but I’ve never been one to look down at a job. This year is different. I found myself speeding up the mountain to get to see all my old friends and make new ones. I’m smiling so much more now. It’s just different. I’m different.

Last year I finally allowed myself to be free. I finally opened up told the world how I feel. And I was okay with it. Not everybody was okay with it but I was finally able to be proud of me, if for nothing else then simply being honest with myself.

I’m more confident. I love myself. I’m proud of myself. Sure it’s not easy all the time. I guess what I’m trying to say is that it gets better.

To my fellow blogger. I’m so sorry that your parents aren’t as open as you would like them to be. I don’t know how that feels entirely. The only thing I have to base it off of is my best friend not accepting me. But what is a best friend compared to your parents? So I thought of my pain and times that by ten to try to think of yours… All I can say is I’m so sorry. I hope you hold on. I know it gets better. Coming out was the best thing I ever did. I know I love you and love reading about your life and I’m sure all the other bloggers can say the same.

The only advice I have to anyone is to just take life one day at a time. Every time I was suicidal I would try to just go to bed and hope it was better in the morning. After 365 mornings I can look back at my life and realize how much better it’s gotten. No it’s not perfect, but I’m happy with the progress and excited to see where it can lead to.

Love you all

-Dupree

This song has been stuck in my head for the past two days. So I don’t know how it relates but I think it awesome.

Gotye Feat Kimbra- Somebody That I Used To Know

Dear Mom and Dad -

My parents are celebrating their wedding anniversary this weekend and I decided it might be in poor taste telling them I'm gay during their celebration. So I am giving it a few days and then I'm going to tell them later this week.  However it plays out, I am planning on giving them this letter.  If you can, please consider sending me some mental warm fuzzies and other loving thoughts.  Thanks.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I love you.  Thank you for being the best parents you could be and for loving me.  Thank you for supporting me during some very tough and difficult times during my life. My mission and my time at BYU were both incredibly challenging at times and I appreciate your love and compassion.  Honestly, there were seemingly countless times I wanted to leave BYU or come home from my mission but your love and support were often all that kept me out.  Thank you for that.

Moving forward, I hope as you read this letter and as we work through the next stage of my life, I hope you will continue to know how much I love you. None of us are perfect and there have been times throughout my life that have been challenging for all of us.  I’m sure in the future we will face additional challenges, too, but I hope and pray that we will be able to work through them and only grow in our love and support for each other.

It has always been my intention and desire to have this conversation, in its entirety, in person but I don’t trust myself to effectively share all that I have in my heart and in my mind.  I hope that this letter answers many of your questions and responds to some of your concerns.

I have prayerfully considered my future over the last several years and, as I have become more honest with myself and with God, I believe it’s now time to be more honest with you, too. Mom and Dad, I am gay. Both of you have made what you think about homosexuals abundantly clear.  I know you believe it’s a choice and a fad but I promise you that it is not. Why would I, or anyone else for that matter, choose to jeopardize relationships with family and friends, risk being cut off and ostracized by their church and congregation, or settle for living and being treated as a second-class citizen?  If I could have chosen to change, I would have more than a decade ago.

In fact, I have tried for the last 15 years to change who I am and who I’m attracted to but I can’t.  I have spent a small fortune on counseling and medication to try and “fix” myself.  I dated women religiously and spoke with church leaders and studied everything the church had on the subject and the answers were always the same: read my scriptures more, go to the temple more, go to seminary, go to BYU, go on a mission, date lots of nice, Mormon girls, and everything will work out. I was told that this was just like any other trial and that by my faith I could be healed.

Well, I did all of these things and, as nothing changed, I began to believe that it would be better for me to kill myself rather than subject you, my parents, to the pain and shame of having a gay son. I have tried to commit suicide twice (nearly succeeding the first time) and I still consider death as an option on an almost daily basis. It is no way to live and I can’t do it any longer.

But, like I said, I have been doing a lot of praying and fasting and I have come to the conclusion that I am who I am and that God is okay with that.  I am tired of beating myself up for something I didn’t choose.  I’m tired of feeling like a failure because I cannot change who I am. And finally, I’m tired of hiding who I am from you and from everyone else.

I’m sure one of the biggest questions you have right now is how this is affecting my relationship with the church.  Truthfully, most of the pain and suffering I have felt and dealt with over the last decade has been a direct result of ignorant members and leaders in the church saying painful, ignorant things.  I can only be called psychologically handicapped, broken, unworthy, and an “enemy to the family” so many times before I start to feel angry, bitter, and abandoned – and that is where I’m at right now.

As I have worried about telling you this part of my life, I have wondered how you would react and what you would think.  I’ll be honest, none of the scenarios seem to end very well in my head.  Regardless of how things play out from this point forward, though, I want you to know that I am still me.  You raised me with a strict moral compass and I have done my best to live by it my entire life.  I have a firm understanding of what is right and what is wrong and I strive every day to treat others with respect and compassion. I am not a lascivious person and I am committed to being a positive influence in others’ lives. I just hope you remember that I am still the little boy and man you have loved for the last 27 years.  I am still all of the good things you have always known, I am just letting you into my life and being more honest with you – something I wish I had done years ago.

Part of me hopes this is something you’ve been guessing at or suspecting for awhile. Then again, maybe I’m a better actor than I thought and this has all come as a blind shock, I don’t know.  All I do know is that I have become a much happier person over the last few months as I have begun to accept who I am.

I want to be authentic and the only way for me to do that is by sharing all of myself with you. I know this is going to be difficult for you.  I know you, like all parents, have hopes and dreams for me and that many of those dreams may now be shattered. I’m sorry for challenging your expectations and dreams for me but I can’t apologize for who I am anymore.  I have given everything I have to change and invested everything I could into the church and its promise for change and yet here I am, still me, still unchanged.  I have given so much that my ‘well’ is now empty; I have no more to give. 

 

I am rebuilding myself from the ground up and I want you (all of the family) in my life. I hope that can happen.  Let me know when you want to and are ready to talk about this.  I know it is going to be difficult for all of us.

I love you,

Michael

Honesty Is Honestly the Hardest Thing For Me Right Now

Disclaimer: This is highly religious and highly sexual, therefore making it highly personal. If you have a problem with any of the three, I am warning you so you can turn back now. If you want keep reading, please do. I would love for you to hear my story. If you like it, leave me some love; I definitely need it. If you don’t, leave me some hate. I’ll understand, even if you don’t.

I dislike lying. I feel like people should just tell the truth always and be honest about their feelings, because otherwise what is the point of even creating relationships? I’m a hypocrite. I’ve been lying to everyone for so long I barely even know who I am, and I’ve decided to come clean.

I’m a pansexual. Cool term right? I was way happy when I heard it, finally something that completely described me. According to Wikipedia, a pansexual is someone who is gender blind, someone who doesn’t notice another’s gender. One girl described it as “all pansexuals are bisexual but not all bisexuals are pansexual.” To me it means being attracted to a person’s personality. My friends used to joke about how I had crushes on the “not-hot” guys but that was because I just could look past a douche bag attitude even if the guy was hot. Sure, I’ll drool over Taylor Lautner all day but it’s superficial. I’m a substance over style kind of gal. But that also means I don’t care what parts you have. So yea . . . I’ve been attracted to women. A few actually. And here’s the kicker. I’m a Mormon.

Yep, I’m a Mormon. I belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I was baptized about three years ago. It’s been a rough ride. Lots of times I turned my back on the Church and said I wanted to live my own life. Why? Because I liked girls. Because I liked coffee. Because I like a list of things that just aren’t in harmony with the Church. And I was too confused to make myself in harmony with the Church. I thought Christ and God didn’t love me, couldn’t love me. That made total sense to me because I didn’t love me, didn’t accept me. I still have problems loving myself. But then something amazing happened. I won’t share all the details, but I knew God loved me and was paying attention to me. It was amazing. But I didn’t get it. I sinned. I liked girls. I damaged my temple; chemically, emotionally and physically. I’ve drank. I’ve cursed. I’ve blasphemed. Drank, cursed, and blasphemed all on a SUNDAY! But in that moment I knew God loved (and forgave) me, and even saw part of the plan He had for me.

I would love everyone. To me there isn’t hetero or homo; we’re just people who deserve love. Need love. I need love, you need love. We need to love ourselves.

So that’s all my two cents for the week. God loves us all, I love you all. I still dream of a temple marriage and to raise my children in the Church with an open mind to all people. And accept the fact that I can be attracted to women. . . It’s not the end of the world. I just hope we all realize that no matter what, it’s never the end of the world. So many times I thought about taking my own life because I hated feeling so out of place. I didn’t because I was terrified to meet God and deal with that shame. I still don’t exactly have a place, in a way I have two. My LGBT life and BYU/LDS life, both living in harmony.

And now you all know. I hope you’ll understand that this has always been who I am. And also that ‘coming out’ is a terrifying yet liberating process. Only four of my friends and one member of my family know I’m a pansexual. My very close people who have shown me support and love. But I want my other friends to know and more importantly I want the rest of my family to know. And I didn’t know how else to tell you. So yea. . . I hope you all still love me after this. Because no matter what I’ll still love you.

Thanks!

Another disclaimer because I know my family will be wondering :)

BYU Honor Code:

Homosexual Behavior

Brigham Young University will respond to homosexual behavior rather than to feelings or attraction and welcomes as full members of the university community all whose behavior meets university standards. Members of the university community can remain in good Honor Code standing if they conduct their lives in a manner consistent with gospel principles and the Honor Code.

One's stated same-gender attraction is not an Honor Code issue. However, the Honor Code requires all members of the university community to manifest a strict commitment to the law of chastity. Homosexual behavior is inappropriate and violates the Honor Code. Homosexual behavior includes not only sexual relations between members of the same sex, but all forms of physical intimacy that give expression to homosexual feelings.

And on a happier note the Song of the WEEK!!

What else could I do besides Glee’s version of I kissed A Girl. Santana was forced out of the closet and I didn’t want to put myself in that position, so I decided to come out on my own terms. Plus I have a HUGE crush on her and now I can say it without fear :) <3

Glee- I Kissed a Girl

And number two! I hinted at it in the title. I heard this song in the gas station the other day and I thought that that line was perfect. I haven’t been able to be honest in so long. But past are the days of hiding.

It's the elephant in the room

And we pretend that we don't see it.

It's the avalanche that looms above our heads.

And we don't believe it.

Tryin' to be perfect

Tryin' not to let you down

Honesty is honestly the hardest thing for me right now...

Kris Allen- The Truth