Not long ago, Chris talked (here ) about internalized homophobia. I struggle with this too, although in my case the problem is not so much in my relationship with my parents but with my former LDS friends.
I am a convert, and none of my family followed me into the LDS church, so if anything they were never too thrilled about my church membership. On the other hand, one of my brothers is gay and has been out for nearly 20 years, and my family have had a long time to get over what homophobia it had. So when I came out to my parents, while they were surprised, they were totally supportive (at the time, I thought too supportive, since I really didn't want to be gay). My relationship with my parents has probably gotten better since then, and I feel generally more open with them.
On the other hand, with my LDS friends I have slowly just shut down. The LDS church was my life, particularly my social life, so when I began coming out and stopped going to church, I essentially cut myself off from my social network. But friends who live elsewhere than where I live now continued to keep in contact, but as I found it increasingly awkward to avoid telling them I was gay and to deal with telling them that I was no longer active, I have tended to slowly withdraw from these friends too, to essentially ignore their e-mails or phone calls.
I am at a point now where this is becoming really painful for me. I hate cutting people off from my life, especially people I cared a lot about and for many years. On the other hand, I am terrified of the reaction if I come out to them. I guess it is partly a control issue; I want to be the one who burns the bridges, who does the rejecting, not the other way around. Although I don't think of myself as rejecting them, but rather protecting them from an apostate and a homosexual too boot.
Further exacerbating the problem I think is that I have been slow to make new friends. I do have other, non-LDS friends, mostly from my school days or from work, but many of my closest non-LDS friends live at great distances from me. And I have moved so many times in my adult life that I have gone through this process of having to make new friends so often that I think I am a bit burned out on doing it yet again at a time in my life when I feel like I should be settled. But I realize that this failure to build new friendships has had some negative effects in preventing me from dealing better with how to relate now to my LDS friends.
I was also reading through former governor Jim McGreevey's memoirs and noticed him talk about dealing with "carried shame" and how it affected him. I realize that I have a lot of that, too, although not all of it is from being gay...in my family context, being Mormon was difficult at times (though I had it easy compared to many) and so I tended to compartmentalize to protect my religious life from my family. All of this hiding different parts of myself from different people has been tiring and destructive.
Anyway, this post is a bit of a ramble, but I just wanted to get these thoughts down while they are preoccupying my mind.
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Sunday, December 24, 2006
and to all a good night
I am here visiting with my parents and relatives this Christmas Eve night, at the end of a long and pleasant day. The day started with music, as I sang a solo this morning at my parents' church (in fact it is the same church where I was christened as a baby), and ended with us attending a Christmas Eve service at another church in my parents' village. No snow anywhere, the first time in southern Ontario that we've had a green Christmas in some time (though not unheard of).
Anyway, I wish all of you a very happy Christmas and a prosperous and happy 2007. I look forward to many more blog entries and exploring the territory that we are each exploring as gay Mormon or gay ex-Mormon men, some married, some single, some divorced...whatever each one's place, I have learned from all of you.
Anyway, I wish all of you a very happy Christmas and a prosperous and happy 2007. I look forward to many more blog entries and exploring the territory that we are each exploring as gay Mormon or gay ex-Mormon men, some married, some single, some divorced...whatever each one's place, I have learned from all of you.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
mormon guys are nice
One of the things that I miss about being an active Latter-day Saint is getting to be around a lot of really nice guys (well, guys and gals, but right now I'm focused on the guys). Not every guy, of course, but I met over the years, and particularly as a full-time missionary, a lot of guys who were "nice" by my standards. By "nice" I mean, they weren't totally stuck up on themselves, didn't they were God's gift to humanity, were not just muscleheads or jocks (though they could be that too) but had intellectual interests, had an interest in their spiritual lives, could express feelings and emotions other than rage or bravado, could be musical and artistic, and so forth. I have met even a few guys I would call true "Renaissance men", who were so well-rounded it was amazing.
I found myself often feeling attracted to these kinds of guys. They were often quite idealistic, wanted to give back to the world, etc. They inspired me by their qualities; I loved to be around them.
I realize that Mormons have no monopoly on virtue, and that there are many "nice" guys outside of the LDS church. I also realize that Mormons have lots of problems, that there are lots of dysfunctional families and there is a lot of manipulation and abuse, "unrighteous dominion" in too many relationships within the LDS church, both institutionally speaking and at the family level.
But, still, I miss being around those kind of guys, because I have yet to really find quite the same concentration of them outside of Mormonism. It's why I have become an avid reader of gay Mormon guys' blogs...you guys are those "nice" guys I like to be around. You inspire me and give me a hope that in due course I will be able to build a relationship with that kind of guy.
All of that said, I realize that my real problem may be that I am still clinging to a lot of the judgmentalism of my Mormon years, whether consciously or unconsciously. I need to work on that, but it doesn't mean that just because something was associated with Mormonism I want to toss it overboard. I think good things, true ideas, etc. stand on their own and have merit whatever their source. I want to keep the good I gained from Mormonism while jettisoning the not good. Still, it leaves me wondering whether I am closing myself too much to the good that I could find in the non-Mormon world.
I found myself often feeling attracted to these kinds of guys. They were often quite idealistic, wanted to give back to the world, etc. They inspired me by their qualities; I loved to be around them.
I realize that Mormons have no monopoly on virtue, and that there are many "nice" guys outside of the LDS church. I also realize that Mormons have lots of problems, that there are lots of dysfunctional families and there is a lot of manipulation and abuse, "unrighteous dominion" in too many relationships within the LDS church, both institutionally speaking and at the family level.
But, still, I miss being around those kind of guys, because I have yet to really find quite the same concentration of them outside of Mormonism. It's why I have become an avid reader of gay Mormon guys' blogs...you guys are those "nice" guys I like to be around. You inspire me and give me a hope that in due course I will be able to build a relationship with that kind of guy.
All of that said, I realize that my real problem may be that I am still clinging to a lot of the judgmentalism of my Mormon years, whether consciously or unconsciously. I need to work on that, but it doesn't mean that just because something was associated with Mormonism I want to toss it overboard. I think good things, true ideas, etc. stand on their own and have merit whatever their source. I want to keep the good I gained from Mormonism while jettisoning the not good. Still, it leaves me wondering whether I am closing myself too much to the good that I could find in the non-Mormon world.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
nurture or nature or does it matter?
I have been reading some posts by Scot recently about the nature vs. nurture debate and have wanted to make some comments about it based on my own self-analysis. I decided that rather than fill up pages on his blog, I'd do it on my own.
In some ways, I have wondered whether my background might tend to prove the nurture hypothesis. My mother was domineering and my father distant, but I would say that there was a dynamic there that I reacted to in a particular way. I idolized my mother, saw as her the example of self-sacrifice and virtue, generally speaking. My father, on the other hand, I saw as being selfish, prone to fits of anger, and very demanding, especially once I hit my teens. He also kept straight porn around, and I apparently was exposed to it pretty young (at latest about the age of 4 or 5). He also tended to be a flirt with other women. Anyway, I think that in some ways I reacted to him by deciding that I was going to be the opposite. So I decided at about 6 or 7 that I would never hate anyone, and later that I would never look at women in a sexual way or treat them like objects, etc.
I also fit the stereotype of being useless at sports, poor coordination, preferred books and music, never hated girls, etc. On the other hand, I was (and still am I suppose) very competitive, at least in things where I could compete. Where I felt I couldn't compete (like most sports) I had no interest.
So did all of this make me gay? Well, on the other hand, I am the oldest of four boys. I have one gay brother, who is the 2nd oldest...the 2 youner ones are straight. So I had no older brother fixation. My parents never divorced, and in fact they have changed a lot over the years and have a stronger marriage now than they did when I was growing up. They have been married 46 years! And in my extended family the odds have actually heavily favoured marriage faithfulness, totally against the societal averages (and none of them are particularly religious!)
And why did my brother and I end up gay but not the younger ones? The third oldest/2nd youngest was a rough and tumble kid, not quite as good in school, but athletic, very social and popular, etc. The youngest was less rough and tumble but certainly has been physical enough...he is a rock climber after all.
The fact is, I think my gay brother and I were always "different", going back to a very very early age. In other words, I think that some of our dispositions tend to be set biologically, whether through genetics or through hormonal influences in the womb. These dispositions may react to environmental factors once exposed to them. So maybe in a different environment than the one I grew up in I would have turned out straight. But maybe not.
The other thing I find interesting or frustrating (depending on how I feel about it on a given day) about my background is that I have had serious crushes on women over the years, have gone through the whole limerence thing. So why am I not straight, or at least bi? I mean, why did I have those feelings if I wasn't at least bi? But the truth is, I never felt sexual attraction towards women, but I sure did towards guys once puberty hit. And I think I did have that limerence thing towards some guys too, it's just that at the time I thought it was just wanting to have a best buddy type friend of the sort I had not had as a kid. I know for sure that at age 17 I did meet a guy who I was totally attracted to, and had he asked me to sleep with him, I think I probably would have...he was so beautiful...tall, slim but muscular, smart, blond. But I barely acknowledged within myself such feelings...they were to be brushed aside and/or suppressed vigorously.
And those feelings towards women were usually rejected. In the last few years, I have started to wonder if maybe these women I showed interest in sensed somehow that I was not really available. I don't know. Maybe I really was just too unattractive.
Anyway, ultimately, whether "gayness" comes from nature or nurture to me ought not to be an issue...ultimately, I am not persuaded that it is changeable, at least I don't see much evidence of it, and lots against it. And in any case I think that, in the end, all human beings of equal worth and dignity, whatever their sexual orientation, colour, race, religion, social status, or what have you. All of us have the right to be happy, and to love, and no one should be denied those rights.
In some ways, I have wondered whether my background might tend to prove the nurture hypothesis. My mother was domineering and my father distant, but I would say that there was a dynamic there that I reacted to in a particular way. I idolized my mother, saw as her the example of self-sacrifice and virtue, generally speaking. My father, on the other hand, I saw as being selfish, prone to fits of anger, and very demanding, especially once I hit my teens. He also kept straight porn around, and I apparently was exposed to it pretty young (at latest about the age of 4 or 5). He also tended to be a flirt with other women. Anyway, I think that in some ways I reacted to him by deciding that I was going to be the opposite. So I decided at about 6 or 7 that I would never hate anyone, and later that I would never look at women in a sexual way or treat them like objects, etc.
I also fit the stereotype of being useless at sports, poor coordination, preferred books and music, never hated girls, etc. On the other hand, I was (and still am I suppose) very competitive, at least in things where I could compete. Where I felt I couldn't compete (like most sports) I had no interest.
So did all of this make me gay? Well, on the other hand, I am the oldest of four boys. I have one gay brother, who is the 2nd oldest...the 2 youner ones are straight. So I had no older brother fixation. My parents never divorced, and in fact they have changed a lot over the years and have a stronger marriage now than they did when I was growing up. They have been married 46 years! And in my extended family the odds have actually heavily favoured marriage faithfulness, totally against the societal averages (and none of them are particularly religious!)
And why did my brother and I end up gay but not the younger ones? The third oldest/2nd youngest was a rough and tumble kid, not quite as good in school, but athletic, very social and popular, etc. The youngest was less rough and tumble but certainly has been physical enough...he is a rock climber after all.
The fact is, I think my gay brother and I were always "different", going back to a very very early age. In other words, I think that some of our dispositions tend to be set biologically, whether through genetics or through hormonal influences in the womb. These dispositions may react to environmental factors once exposed to them. So maybe in a different environment than the one I grew up in I would have turned out straight. But maybe not.
The other thing I find interesting or frustrating (depending on how I feel about it on a given day) about my background is that I have had serious crushes on women over the years, have gone through the whole limerence thing. So why am I not straight, or at least bi? I mean, why did I have those feelings if I wasn't at least bi? But the truth is, I never felt sexual attraction towards women, but I sure did towards guys once puberty hit. And I think I did have that limerence thing towards some guys too, it's just that at the time I thought it was just wanting to have a best buddy type friend of the sort I had not had as a kid. I know for sure that at age 17 I did meet a guy who I was totally attracted to, and had he asked me to sleep with him, I think I probably would have...he was so beautiful...tall, slim but muscular, smart, blond. But I barely acknowledged within myself such feelings...they were to be brushed aside and/or suppressed vigorously.
And those feelings towards women were usually rejected. In the last few years, I have started to wonder if maybe these women I showed interest in sensed somehow that I was not really available. I don't know. Maybe I really was just too unattractive.
Anyway, ultimately, whether "gayness" comes from nature or nurture to me ought not to be an issue...ultimately, I am not persuaded that it is changeable, at least I don't see much evidence of it, and lots against it. And in any case I think that, in the end, all human beings of equal worth and dignity, whatever their sexual orientation, colour, race, religion, social status, or what have you. All of us have the right to be happy, and to love, and no one should be denied those rights.
Monday, December 11, 2006
what is life about?
Over the past few months I have been watching "Jericho" on CBS. Something about this story of a post-apocalyptic world has really grabbed my interest and has given me a lot to think about. In fact, I had to stop watching the show live on Wednesday nights because my mind was so preoccupied with the storyline that I was having problems sleeping.
Last night I watched "The Day After Tomorrow" on a local tv station and again was left in a reflective mood. I think one of the things that preoccupies me about both of these stories is the idea of being confronted by a catastrophe that is totally beyond one's control, for which one cannot really adequately prepare, and that constitutes a continuing challenge to one's survival. I have thought a lot about what I would do if my city were to be hit with a nuclear explosion after the fashion of Jericho; really, there probably wouldn't be much to think about, because given where I work I would undoubtedly be dead. But if I happened not to be near the epicentre, if someone I survived, what would I do? Where would I go? What about my life now would no longer seem of any importance, and what would suddenly become of ultimate value to me?
As an active Latter-day Saint, these questions were largely resolved in the larger framework of the plan of salvation, the mission of the church as an institution, and so forth. This certainly brought me a lot of comfort, although as the years passed and I got older and did not follow in the normal pattern of things...that is, my parents and brothers never joined the church, I never got married, leaving me essentially alone in the church...this grew to provide less comfort, although I always held onto a sense of personal mission and purpose for my life.
After coming out and ceasing to be an active practising Latter-day Saint (although, apart from those aspects of Mormonism that are very church-institution-oriented, I don't think I live much different from how I did in the past), I have had to reassess these sorts of questions. I have come to adopt a kind of Christian humanism, I guess, that views humanity's purpose to be a striving to create an ever-more loving, peaceful, nurturing world where all persons are valued and given opportunities to grow and be happy. But then I watch these gut-wrenching programs with hypothetical futures that, at least in the case of Jericho, don't seem to be so far out of the realm of the possible. What then? Do the pleasing generalities of my so-called Christian humanism really cut it when one is faced with survival as job one and only?
What does it really mean to be human, and what do we really want to survive if a catastrophe ever does occur? Is it just survival for the sake of survival? Survival of the fittest? Survival of the noblest, of the most virtuous? Survival of the most intelligent?
And what of our collective accumulated culture, our civilization, do we want to keep? would we be able to maintain in the face of disaster?
And would I be willing to do anything to make sure that I survived? Or would I be ready to sacrifice my life to ensure that others do survive?
And does any of this mean anything for how I live now, in a pre-apocalyptic world? Should it make a difference to how I live?
Last night I watched "The Day After Tomorrow" on a local tv station and again was left in a reflective mood. I think one of the things that preoccupies me about both of these stories is the idea of being confronted by a catastrophe that is totally beyond one's control, for which one cannot really adequately prepare, and that constitutes a continuing challenge to one's survival. I have thought a lot about what I would do if my city were to be hit with a nuclear explosion after the fashion of Jericho; really, there probably wouldn't be much to think about, because given where I work I would undoubtedly be dead. But if I happened not to be near the epicentre, if someone I survived, what would I do? Where would I go? What about my life now would no longer seem of any importance, and what would suddenly become of ultimate value to me?
As an active Latter-day Saint, these questions were largely resolved in the larger framework of the plan of salvation, the mission of the church as an institution, and so forth. This certainly brought me a lot of comfort, although as the years passed and I got older and did not follow in the normal pattern of things...that is, my parents and brothers never joined the church, I never got married, leaving me essentially alone in the church...this grew to provide less comfort, although I always held onto a sense of personal mission and purpose for my life.
After coming out and ceasing to be an active practising Latter-day Saint (although, apart from those aspects of Mormonism that are very church-institution-oriented, I don't think I live much different from how I did in the past), I have had to reassess these sorts of questions. I have come to adopt a kind of Christian humanism, I guess, that views humanity's purpose to be a striving to create an ever-more loving, peaceful, nurturing world where all persons are valued and given opportunities to grow and be happy. But then I watch these gut-wrenching programs with hypothetical futures that, at least in the case of Jericho, don't seem to be so far out of the realm of the possible. What then? Do the pleasing generalities of my so-called Christian humanism really cut it when one is faced with survival as job one and only?
What does it really mean to be human, and what do we really want to survive if a catastrophe ever does occur? Is it just survival for the sake of survival? Survival of the fittest? Survival of the noblest, of the most virtuous? Survival of the most intelligent?
And what of our collective accumulated culture, our civilization, do we want to keep? would we be able to maintain in the face of disaster?
And would I be willing to do anything to make sure that I survived? Or would I be ready to sacrifice my life to ensure that others do survive?
And does any of this mean anything for how I live now, in a pre-apocalyptic world? Should it make a difference to how I live?
Monday, December 4, 2006
sex is sacred
I remember when I was in my last year of high school that I took a sociology course. It also happened to be the same year in which I investigated and joined the LDS church. Anyway, as I noted above, I was pretty opinionated and not afraid to state my views, and a number of times I got in some trouble with the teacher of this sociology class because I argued with her position.
One of those times, as I recall, for some reason I made the assertion that Mormons believed that sex was sacred and should be reserved for marriage. I certainly believed that about heterosexual sex, though I certainly had not thought it through with respect to homosexual sex (which I tended to lump into the big pot of "sexual sin"). I also didn't really want to consider how that view jived with the times I had indulged in that "m" word activity. I guess I lumped it into the sexual sin pot, and just felt guilty all the time about it, tried hard after joining the church to avoid it, but "fell" every so often.
The "sex is sacred" idea was not, of course, unique to Mormon thought; in fact, I probably picked it up long before I was baptized, maybe from the Bible, maybe from listening to a Presbyterian church sermon (the denomination of my birth), or maybe from one of the churches I investigated in my teens. But, in any case, Mormonism certainly bought into the concept of "sex is sacred" so the idea was reinforced in my mind by repetition in class, in Ensign articles, in sacrament meeting talks, firesides, and General conference sessions.
The "sex is sacred" idea was easy for me to accept because it was so easy for me to "control" my sexual feelings towards women. Since there weren't any, it was not too hard, and I felt pretty good about that, but bad of course about those dark, unmentionable feelings that made me ashamed, deeply ashamed. The unfortunate thing is that this combination gave me I think a pretty skewed view of sexuality that I fear Mormon church leaders did not do much to rectify. Understandably, from their point of view, the emphasis had to be on preaching against illicit sex since the activity and desire for the activity of sex is pretty much inborn into all (or nearly all) of us such that we really don't need to be taught much about how good it is, just how to control it "within the bounds the Lord has set". You know, the image of passion being like lava that has to be contained lest it run amok. However, when you don't have those feelings naturally, in fact towards the opposite sex you feel the purest unsexual love you could, all that preaching against illicit sex tends to give one a false impression that by not having those sexual passions you are really quite righteous and superior. Since the gay feelings are just not possible in the LDS worldview as anything other than an aberration that can somehow or other be corrected (whether now or in the next life doesn't really make a difference), being totally chaste in the sense of being totally abstinent from sex and anything remotely connected to it becomes this ideal state for the single guy.
But that is not, I have come to realize, how most people experience sexuality, I mean most heterosexual people. They actually have passions, and passions that they have to "bridle". They are tempted; they resist or not. Chastity means, for them, not getting rid of the passions, but just keeping them in check until they can be fully expressed.
Anyway, fast forward to now. Now, I'm a semi-out gay man, no longer an active Latter-day Saint. I still have not had a sexual experience (other than the heretofore mentioned solitary type of which there has been no drought for some time ;) I know that many gay guys go through a sexual adolescence at whatever age they come out, meaning lots of experimentation, lots of different partners. Somehow, though, this is not happening to me, or rather, I haven't taken any steps to have it happen. Why?
Part of it is probably inertia, and my general shyness and insecurities. But part of it is also that, heck, I still kind of buy into the "sex is sacred" stuff. While I confess that in my fantasies threesomes and group sex seem to have a place, it doesn't mean I would actually ever do anything like that. The truth is, if I had my way, the guy who ends up being my life partner is the one and only guy I want to have sex with, ever. I don't feel a huge need to try out lots of guys, to have conquests, or whatever. I really just want to have real intimacy with one person, which includes sex as an expression of emotional, intellectual and physical attraction and affection. It's all very idealistic and high-minded sounding, but I don't know if I am being very realistic. That said, like L, I tend to resist being told that I can or cannot do something or should or should not do something because "everyone else does/does not do it". If that is the best argument one can come up with, I am generally pretty unimpresssed.
Anyway, it just seems to me that sex tends, like it or not, to carry with it a lot of heavy duty emotions, not to mention potential consequnces (even for gay men), that I think it is probably better confined to committed, long-term relationships. But I am open-minded enough to listen to alternate viewpoints on this, particularly given that I am a total innocent in this area, given my vast non-experience.
One of those times, as I recall, for some reason I made the assertion that Mormons believed that sex was sacred and should be reserved for marriage. I certainly believed that about heterosexual sex, though I certainly had not thought it through with respect to homosexual sex (which I tended to lump into the big pot of "sexual sin"). I also didn't really want to consider how that view jived with the times I had indulged in that "m" word activity. I guess I lumped it into the sexual sin pot, and just felt guilty all the time about it, tried hard after joining the church to avoid it, but "fell" every so often.
The "sex is sacred" idea was not, of course, unique to Mormon thought; in fact, I probably picked it up long before I was baptized, maybe from the Bible, maybe from listening to a Presbyterian church sermon (the denomination of my birth), or maybe from one of the churches I investigated in my teens. But, in any case, Mormonism certainly bought into the concept of "sex is sacred" so the idea was reinforced in my mind by repetition in class, in Ensign articles, in sacrament meeting talks, firesides, and General conference sessions.
The "sex is sacred" idea was easy for me to accept because it was so easy for me to "control" my sexual feelings towards women. Since there weren't any, it was not too hard, and I felt pretty good about that, but bad of course about those dark, unmentionable feelings that made me ashamed, deeply ashamed. The unfortunate thing is that this combination gave me I think a pretty skewed view of sexuality that I fear Mormon church leaders did not do much to rectify. Understandably, from their point of view, the emphasis had to be on preaching against illicit sex since the activity and desire for the activity of sex is pretty much inborn into all (or nearly all) of us such that we really don't need to be taught much about how good it is, just how to control it "within the bounds the Lord has set". You know, the image of passion being like lava that has to be contained lest it run amok. However, when you don't have those feelings naturally, in fact towards the opposite sex you feel the purest unsexual love you could, all that preaching against illicit sex tends to give one a false impression that by not having those sexual passions you are really quite righteous and superior. Since the gay feelings are just not possible in the LDS worldview as anything other than an aberration that can somehow or other be corrected (whether now or in the next life doesn't really make a difference), being totally chaste in the sense of being totally abstinent from sex and anything remotely connected to it becomes this ideal state for the single guy.
But that is not, I have come to realize, how most people experience sexuality, I mean most heterosexual people. They actually have passions, and passions that they have to "bridle". They are tempted; they resist or not. Chastity means, for them, not getting rid of the passions, but just keeping them in check until they can be fully expressed.
Anyway, fast forward to now. Now, I'm a semi-out gay man, no longer an active Latter-day Saint. I still have not had a sexual experience (other than the heretofore mentioned solitary type of which there has been no drought for some time ;) I know that many gay guys go through a sexual adolescence at whatever age they come out, meaning lots of experimentation, lots of different partners. Somehow, though, this is not happening to me, or rather, I haven't taken any steps to have it happen. Why?
Part of it is probably inertia, and my general shyness and insecurities. But part of it is also that, heck, I still kind of buy into the "sex is sacred" stuff. While I confess that in my fantasies threesomes and group sex seem to have a place, it doesn't mean I would actually ever do anything like that. The truth is, if I had my way, the guy who ends up being my life partner is the one and only guy I want to have sex with, ever. I don't feel a huge need to try out lots of guys, to have conquests, or whatever. I really just want to have real intimacy with one person, which includes sex as an expression of emotional, intellectual and physical attraction and affection. It's all very idealistic and high-minded sounding, but I don't know if I am being very realistic. That said, like L, I tend to resist being told that I can or cannot do something or should or should not do something because "everyone else does/does not do it". If that is the best argument one can come up with, I am generally pretty unimpresssed.
Anyway, it just seems to me that sex tends, like it or not, to carry with it a lot of heavy duty emotions, not to mention potential consequnces (even for gay men), that I think it is probably better confined to committed, long-term relationships. But I am open-minded enough to listen to alternate viewpoints on this, particularly given that I am a total innocent in this area, given my vast non-experience.
Sunday, December 3, 2006
feeling "different"
Ever since I can remember, well, at least since I entered elementary school, I have felt "different". I was always very self-conscious about being shorter than the other boys, and also aware that I was not as "physical" as them. There was a two year period when I had a couple of best buddies in the fourth and fifth grades where I felt like I fit in with the other guys. But that ended when we were switched to a new school.
I also didn't fit in because I was not antagonistic towards girls. I had a little girlfriend in the first through third grade. I never went through the girls are icky phase. I had crushes on girls into my teens and early twenties. But when I hit puberty, I didn't have the sexual attraction towards girls that other guys had...the idea of sex with a woman just seemed bad and wrong to me. But I did develop a sexual attraction towards guys.
I also tended toward being non-violent. I grew up fighting a lot with my younger brothers (an ever-shifting alliance of 2 against 1) and my father had a temper, so I developed (or maybe always had and just had it reinforced) a dislike of fighting and being rough. At 12 or so I finally said to my brothers that I would not fight any more. I never got into fights at school. I'm sure I was seen as a wimp, definitely I was seen as a total square. And when I was 6 or 7 I made a semi-conscious decision that I was going to try to live like Jesus and not hate anyone and try to love everyone.
At the same time, I was a smart kid, usually ahead of the rest of the class, and I had strong opinions and was increasingly unafraid to express my views. I made my life miserable for a while when in the sixth grade as class rep I told off the entire class when they didn't pay attention to me when I was trying to give them a report about a student council meeting. In my late teens, a friend told me that I was too forceful with my opinions and that I should tone down; I took that to heart, and for a long while probably went too much the other way of biting my tongue and just trying to listen to others' views without expressing my own views.
In my teens I became a bit of a loner for a couple of years, with no really close friends. That close male-bonding that many guys experience with their buddies was something I never really experienced but always craved.
Finally, throw into this mix the fact that from a young age I had a strong sense of the presence of God in my life. I have had a few brushes with death...I nearly died shortly after birth when I contracted meningitis; nearly drowned when I fell through the ice when I was 5 or 6; totalled a car when I was 19...and these have made me reflect on how lucky I am to be alive and have tended to encourage the idea in my head that I am on earth for a purpose or that I have a mission in life that I must perform. I started reading the Bible at about 7 or 8; started investigating different churches at about 13; finally investigated and joined the LDS church at 17.
All of this made me feel different. Joining the LDS church gave me the first sense of not being so different inasmuch as I finally had found a community with people who shared many of my values and goals. However, the longer I stayed in the church, particularly during my mission and after, the feeling of difference again arose. I still felt some community, but I came to realize that even in the Mormon communities of which I was a part I didn't entirely fit in well. I was more intellectual than average, less sports-obsessed, less macho than many of the other men. And since I didn't get married and have children, I was increasingly isolated and felt more and more like I was either a reject or a service project of others.
One of the things most difficult for me about all of this was that I have always felt a disconnect between how I perceive myself being perceived by others, and how I have perceived myself. I have often felt misunderstood and came after a time to realize that how people looked at me and what they said about me often was more a reflection on them than it was on me. If I lived in a ward where everyone was business-oriented and sports-oriented, I was viewed as being intellectual and somewhat impractical; in a ward where many were teachers and academics, I was seen as being more practical and not exceptionally intelligent. To some, I was too outspoken and intimidating; to others, too quiet and passive. While this came to be a bit amusing in one way, in another way it was kind of frustrating.
On the other hand, I have had a few experiences where I have felt a kind of transcendent love and sense of belonging that has made me feel whole or complete for a short time. I felt that with a couple of my missionary companions, one in particular who I confess I was nervous about being assigned to serve with but who turned out to be the most amazing guy, totally accepting of me as I am, and so much fun to be with. I remember a night in my first year of undergrad while walking back to my dorm room from watching a movie with my best friend and looking at the stars and feeling a tangible sense of God's love for me.
Coming out certainly hasn't solved this longing to belong. In some ways, I feel almost more alone now than before. It might be different if I lived in the wetsern US where there are concentrations of gay Mormon guys, where I could find someone who really understands where I am coming from in terms of values and spirituality and experience. But that is not where I am, nor should I discount where I am nor restrict myself to a very narrow subset of guys or people. And, honestly, I assume this whole "longing to belong" business is a major theme of human life; it's just that many solve that problem in ways that I have never been able to accept. The "longing to belong", to overcome the feeling of difference, has always to battle in me the need to be independent, to be true to myself and what I value. And the latter have always trumped the former, and continue to do so.
I also didn't fit in because I was not antagonistic towards girls. I had a little girlfriend in the first through third grade. I never went through the girls are icky phase. I had crushes on girls into my teens and early twenties. But when I hit puberty, I didn't have the sexual attraction towards girls that other guys had...the idea of sex with a woman just seemed bad and wrong to me. But I did develop a sexual attraction towards guys.
I also tended toward being non-violent. I grew up fighting a lot with my younger brothers (an ever-shifting alliance of 2 against 1) and my father had a temper, so I developed (or maybe always had and just had it reinforced) a dislike of fighting and being rough. At 12 or so I finally said to my brothers that I would not fight any more. I never got into fights at school. I'm sure I was seen as a wimp, definitely I was seen as a total square. And when I was 6 or 7 I made a semi-conscious decision that I was going to try to live like Jesus and not hate anyone and try to love everyone.
At the same time, I was a smart kid, usually ahead of the rest of the class, and I had strong opinions and was increasingly unafraid to express my views. I made my life miserable for a while when in the sixth grade as class rep I told off the entire class when they didn't pay attention to me when I was trying to give them a report about a student council meeting. In my late teens, a friend told me that I was too forceful with my opinions and that I should tone down; I took that to heart, and for a long while probably went too much the other way of biting my tongue and just trying to listen to others' views without expressing my own views.
In my teens I became a bit of a loner for a couple of years, with no really close friends. That close male-bonding that many guys experience with their buddies was something I never really experienced but always craved.
Finally, throw into this mix the fact that from a young age I had a strong sense of the presence of God in my life. I have had a few brushes with death...I nearly died shortly after birth when I contracted meningitis; nearly drowned when I fell through the ice when I was 5 or 6; totalled a car when I was 19...and these have made me reflect on how lucky I am to be alive and have tended to encourage the idea in my head that I am on earth for a purpose or that I have a mission in life that I must perform. I started reading the Bible at about 7 or 8; started investigating different churches at about 13; finally investigated and joined the LDS church at 17.
All of this made me feel different. Joining the LDS church gave me the first sense of not being so different inasmuch as I finally had found a community with people who shared many of my values and goals. However, the longer I stayed in the church, particularly during my mission and after, the feeling of difference again arose. I still felt some community, but I came to realize that even in the Mormon communities of which I was a part I didn't entirely fit in well. I was more intellectual than average, less sports-obsessed, less macho than many of the other men. And since I didn't get married and have children, I was increasingly isolated and felt more and more like I was either a reject or a service project of others.
One of the things most difficult for me about all of this was that I have always felt a disconnect between how I perceive myself being perceived by others, and how I have perceived myself. I have often felt misunderstood and came after a time to realize that how people looked at me and what they said about me often was more a reflection on them than it was on me. If I lived in a ward where everyone was business-oriented and sports-oriented, I was viewed as being intellectual and somewhat impractical; in a ward where many were teachers and academics, I was seen as being more practical and not exceptionally intelligent. To some, I was too outspoken and intimidating; to others, too quiet and passive. While this came to be a bit amusing in one way, in another way it was kind of frustrating.
On the other hand, I have had a few experiences where I have felt a kind of transcendent love and sense of belonging that has made me feel whole or complete for a short time. I felt that with a couple of my missionary companions, one in particular who I confess I was nervous about being assigned to serve with but who turned out to be the most amazing guy, totally accepting of me as I am, and so much fun to be with. I remember a night in my first year of undergrad while walking back to my dorm room from watching a movie with my best friend and looking at the stars and feeling a tangible sense of God's love for me.
Coming out certainly hasn't solved this longing to belong. In some ways, I feel almost more alone now than before. It might be different if I lived in the wetsern US where there are concentrations of gay Mormon guys, where I could find someone who really understands where I am coming from in terms of values and spirituality and experience. But that is not where I am, nor should I discount where I am nor restrict myself to a very narrow subset of guys or people. And, honestly, I assume this whole "longing to belong" business is a major theme of human life; it's just that many solve that problem in ways that I have never been able to accept. The "longing to belong", to overcome the feeling of difference, has always to battle in me the need to be independent, to be true to myself and what I value. And the latter have always trumped the former, and continue to do so.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
happy American Thanksgiving
To all my American readers, a very happy Thanksgiving Day (and weekend). In spite of all of the problems we face as inhabitants of this little blue and green sphere rushing along through space, we really have so much. There is great poverty, yes, but probably more hope to overcome it than at any time in history. Same for disease, for malnutrition, and on and on. We have far to go, but we have come so far and, really, so fast. I don't think progress is inevitable, but nor is descent into the black night of chaos.
So enjoy your time away from work; I hope that you all have happy times with family and/or friends.
So enjoy your time away from work; I hope that you all have happy times with family and/or friends.
dream on
Last night I had a dream in which I met the most amazing guy. He was cute, sang and quoted long passages of beautiful poetry to me that he had written himself. I was head over heels in love with this guy. And, oddly, his name was that of someone I knew when I was growing up...a son of one of my parents' friends, who was a little too old to play with my brothers and I.
I woke up, and in that awake time I thought, yeah, that's what I'm looking for...a guy who is artistic and attractive to me. It's nice to dream...and I hope I have more dreams like this ;) But time will tell whether this dream becomes reality.
I woke up, and in that awake time I thought, yeah, that's what I'm looking for...a guy who is artistic and attractive to me. It's nice to dream...and I hope I have more dreams like this ;) But time will tell whether this dream becomes reality.
Monday, November 20, 2006
gay adoption...to have or not to have, that is the question...
Over the weekend I attended a National Adoption Day ceremony at which my brother and his husband adopted two boys. Most of my family and all of my brother-in-law's family were there to show our support. Through the course of the morning, more than one person broke down in tears, including my father, a man not given to public displays of crying. My brother and his husband have worked very hard to get to this point; they will, I think, make great parents.
They were not the only non-straight couples adopting children at the ceremony I attended, one of hundreds that took place across the United States. But more sobering was a short event at the end of the morning, when they identified some of the many children in that city who remained to be adopted, who need loving homes and families.
One thing it caused me to reflect on was the whole debate about same-sex marriage. In a world where so many children need adoptive families, where are all those good Christian straight couples ready to adopt these children? If it is really such a disaster to have gay and lesbian couples adopting children, why don't those good Christian pastors (and religious leaders of all anti-gay-marriage advocates) step up to the plate to save these poor children who need so desperately to be loved in good homes? But I fail to see it happening.
No, they are too busy stopping gays and lesbians from forming lasting relationships with legal sanction and protections to be bothered with helping children who need good parents. And to add to it, better make sure that those gays and lesbians can't adopt children either, whether the biological children of their partners, or children that would never otherwise have parents.
The other thing it got me thinking about is the fact I'm in my early 40s and have no children, despite the fact that for years I desperately wanted to have children. I really would like to have biological children, but I am not willing any more to put a good woman through the stress and travail of marrying a gay man like me. Perhaps I can adopt. But I fear I have become too selfish as I have got older, too used to being free of commitments. Still, the biological imperative to have children still is there. Maybe some day I will be able to have or adopt children, like my brother and his husband.
They were not the only non-straight couples adopting children at the ceremony I attended, one of hundreds that took place across the United States. But more sobering was a short event at the end of the morning, when they identified some of the many children in that city who remained to be adopted, who need loving homes and families.
One thing it caused me to reflect on was the whole debate about same-sex marriage. In a world where so many children need adoptive families, where are all those good Christian straight couples ready to adopt these children? If it is really such a disaster to have gay and lesbian couples adopting children, why don't those good Christian pastors (and religious leaders of all anti-gay-marriage advocates) step up to the plate to save these poor children who need so desperately to be loved in good homes? But I fail to see it happening.
No, they are too busy stopping gays and lesbians from forming lasting relationships with legal sanction and protections to be bothered with helping children who need good parents. And to add to it, better make sure that those gays and lesbians can't adopt children either, whether the biological children of their partners, or children that would never otherwise have parents.
The other thing it got me thinking about is the fact I'm in my early 40s and have no children, despite the fact that for years I desperately wanted to have children. I really would like to have biological children, but I am not willing any more to put a good woman through the stress and travail of marrying a gay man like me. Perhaps I can adopt. But I fear I have become too selfish as I have got older, too used to being free of commitments. Still, the biological imperative to have children still is there. Maybe some day I will be able to have or adopt children, like my brother and his husband.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
belief and non-belief
The beginning of my coming out was the beginning of the end of my belief in the historical claims of Mormonism.
I was a convert to the LDS church in my late teens. I had grown up in a mainline Protestant church which my family attended regularly until I was 12. My father was agnostic, my mother descended from a long line of religious people, with some ministers in the further reaches of the family tree. I had a strong sense of belief in God from a young age. I started to read the Bible at about 7 years of age. I remember my grandmother's funeral just before I turned 8, and having this feeling that she was in heaven that I relayed to my grieving mother.
When I entered puberty, I started searching for a church. Somewhere I got the idea that there had to be one true church, one church that was more correct, more consistent with the Bible, than any other. I approached the matter from an intellectual point of view, meaning, I more or less assessed different churches by how well they seemed to me to conform their teachings to my understanding of the Bible. I guess you could call me a Biblicist (I think that is the right term for it), to some extent a literalist (I was pretty anti-Darwin, etc.). Anyway, I had a few encounters with Mormonism over this period, but it was not until I was 16 and almost 17 that I finally decided to really study it seriously. I had a couple of good friends who were LDS and who lived their beliefs, which impressed me and I think helped to soften my heart towards the church. The other event was an attempt to read the Book of Mormon that was positive and where I felt "intelligence" or "light" when I read portions of it (where I had tried before and only felt an empty feeling about it).
To cut the chase, I eventually took the discussions over a period of a couple of days, committed to baptism, but then had to wait to meet my parents' requirements. I attended church before and after my baptism faithfully, even had an unofficial calling as branch pianist (it was a small branch of about 25 members where I joined). I was ordained an elder 5 months after baptism, just after I turned 18. At 19 and a half, I went on a mission, served for 18 months (what I was called to do, although I could have extended but my branch president at home was against it).
My mission solidified and greatly deepened my commitment and belief in Mormonism. I was pretty orthodox; I loved Bruce R McConkie, tried to read everything I could, etc. Anyway, I was trying hard to be a faithful Latter-day Saint.
But I was also struggling with this feeling of sexual attraction toward guys.
That attraction first appeared I guess in early puberty in dreams. At first, I dreamt of bisexual threesomes. But the woman quickly dropped out of the dreams, and it was then just about the guy. My father also had porn around when I was a kid and teen, and when I could I would look at it; I was never interested in the women, but looked at the spreads of couples and focused on the men. I became intrigued by letters written to these magazines about guys having sex with their buddies and how great it was. This just fascinated me.
Meantime, I was a pretty straight-laced, repressed type who was almost anti-sex. I had crushes on girls (and probably on guys though at the time I attributed it to wanting a close male friend) but I was horrified by the idea of having any kind of sexual thoughts towards women because it was wrong, blahblahblah. I thought I was SO righteous and noble.
Anyway, after joining the church, I continued with this struggle. I was shy, and rarely dated; indeed, I have really only had 2 girlfriends in my life, both fairly serious but one ended when I left for the mission field and she moved away, and the other when she dumped me. My self-esteem always struggled with my small stature (5'5" and thin and not muscular at all, much less athletic) and I found the women I was attracted to usually saw me as a great little brother and friend but never as a potential romantic interest. After I got my first full-time job at 25 that seemed to change, but by then the gay feelings were get a little more insistent and I felt guilty about them which affected my ability to be open to being attracted back to some of these women (although most of the time, they were not my type; too often they seemed needy and clingy and that scared me).
My first real struggle with the gay feelings came a few years later when I was an elders quorum president and I went and bought gay porn and ended up released from my calling and put on probation for a couple of months. It was horrible although the process of being humbled was not a bad thing. But the idea that this total abstinence for two months from the m word and porn was a pipe dream. I got a new job and moved, and the "problem" resurfaced.
For the next ten years, I struggled increasingly with these issues. Through nearly all of it, the only person who knew what I was going through was my bishop at the time. No one else knew. I had been counseled not to talk to others about it. The secrecy really didn't help me much, but I felt trapped and obligated to live up to my strong convictions about Mormonism. I was a perfectionist in many ways, so when I "fell" I was very hard on myself. Lots of negative self-talk.
Finally, three years ago, after lots of changes in my life and another move (I'll talk about that some other time), I was in a new city and ward. My new bishop called me in, evidently to give me a calling, but when I told him I was strugglling with using porn and the m word, he concluded that I needed to be put on informal probation, to be prohibited from holding any callings, from praying or speaking in church, no taking of the sacrament, etc. An informal probation that seemed to have most of the restrictions of a disfellowshipment. Anyway, I could take the sacrament again if I could go a month without masturbation.
A few weeks later, I was struggling with digestive problems (acid reflux) and was put on some medication, including a pain killer that I think probably was a mild depressant. My bishop had referred me to and LDS social services counselor, who I met with and who was completely focused on helping me stop masturbating and using porn, with no insight on my sexual attractions. A few weeks after seeing him and starting the medication, I was feeling worse, and then right around Christmas fell into an episode of depression.
Depression is a terrible thing. I really didn't know anything about it, but I sure learned lots over the next few weeks and months. I had no energy, my body felt weighted down by lead, I couldn't sleep, my mind would at times race with uncontrollable wild thoughts, I could not use the computer for more than a few minutes without becoming really agitated, I couldn't read, I had no interest in anything that usually interested me. I had no sex drive at all.
I got medical help, eventually started taking anti-depressants, saw a great counselor, and started walking lots every day. It was hard, but after two or three months my mood was more or less back to an even keel.
However, in the process of all of this, I confronted the reality that many Latter-day Saints, including bishops, are really ignorant about depression. The anti-science/anti-medicine bias of many really bothered me.
But I also had to confront some things about myself. I came out to my parents on Christmas day. They are not LDS, and I have a gay brother, so while they were surprised by my revelation, they were totally supportive. The greatest blessing of my depression may be the way it has drawn me closer to them; not that I wasn't close, but in a lot of ways they really saved my life through that very difficult time.
I confronted the fact that during the depression I did not feel the spirit at all. Nothing. I was used to having spiritual feelings on a regular basis. Now, nothing. I couldn't understand this. I had always thought that the spirit was independent ultimately from the body and that while the body's condition influenced the spirit, if we were trying to live right we could still feel the spirit. It was not as if I was living any more unrighteously than I had before, so why now no spirit?
While I came out to my parents, by that I mean I said that I was "struggling" with gay feelings. I didn't want them. I wanted desperately to be straight. I didn't like that my parents were so supportive of me being gay. I felt like I was becoming some kind of battleground in this great war between the pro- and anti-gay movements. And I didn't want to be anyone else's battleground. But I didn't want to be gay.
A turning point that started the wheels in my head turning was meeting with a psychiatrist who specializes in gender identity issues. He pointed some things out to me that I had never thought about before that really made me think. At the time I met him, and all through the appointment, I was determined that at worst I was bi. When he had taken my history, he straight out said "you're gay". I resisted and argued with him. But he pointed out to me that if I were really straight like I thought and this gay stuff was just some temptation or something, why was it I only ever had dreams about sex with men? And he pointed out that real straight men do actually have to control their sexual attractions and feelings--how can you "bridle your thoughts" if there is nothing to bridle? At the time, I was dismissive, but over the coming months these ideas began to take root.
I moved again, back to where I am now, the city of my birth. I intended to return to church but in the end did not because I feared that the double issues of depression and sexuality would turn me into a battlefield in my ward that I didn't want to be. I wanted space to work through things myself.
I finally got referred to a psychiatrist here. He has worked with me ever since. At first, and for a long time, I fought with him over my sexuality and my religion. I was inactive, but still believed. But, over time, his challenging me forced me to confront myself, my beliefs about myself and about Mormonism and life generally. I also started studying some more about Mormonism in areas where I knew there were problems but had tended to be dismissive in the past, and I learned things that I had not known that put my faith in the church's claims in a different light. I also realized that my belief system rested on a lot of untested assumptions that, when challenged, were not so sturdy a foundation for my faith. I became more tentative about my beliefs, and eventually came to the conclusion that I could not believe in Mormonism's truth claims any more.
Eventually, I went to a coming out group and tried dating a few different guys. Some positive experiences, but in the end, no relationships developed, and I remained the 40plus year old virgin I have become. (Not that being virgin is all bad...in some ways, it makes me feel powerful).
Anyway, that is my basic story. With time, I will discuss certain aspects in more detail.
I was a convert to the LDS church in my late teens. I had grown up in a mainline Protestant church which my family attended regularly until I was 12. My father was agnostic, my mother descended from a long line of religious people, with some ministers in the further reaches of the family tree. I had a strong sense of belief in God from a young age. I started to read the Bible at about 7 years of age. I remember my grandmother's funeral just before I turned 8, and having this feeling that she was in heaven that I relayed to my grieving mother.
When I entered puberty, I started searching for a church. Somewhere I got the idea that there had to be one true church, one church that was more correct, more consistent with the Bible, than any other. I approached the matter from an intellectual point of view, meaning, I more or less assessed different churches by how well they seemed to me to conform their teachings to my understanding of the Bible. I guess you could call me a Biblicist (I think that is the right term for it), to some extent a literalist (I was pretty anti-Darwin, etc.). Anyway, I had a few encounters with Mormonism over this period, but it was not until I was 16 and almost 17 that I finally decided to really study it seriously. I had a couple of good friends who were LDS and who lived their beliefs, which impressed me and I think helped to soften my heart towards the church. The other event was an attempt to read the Book of Mormon that was positive and where I felt "intelligence" or "light" when I read portions of it (where I had tried before and only felt an empty feeling about it).
To cut the chase, I eventually took the discussions over a period of a couple of days, committed to baptism, but then had to wait to meet my parents' requirements. I attended church before and after my baptism faithfully, even had an unofficial calling as branch pianist (it was a small branch of about 25 members where I joined). I was ordained an elder 5 months after baptism, just after I turned 18. At 19 and a half, I went on a mission, served for 18 months (what I was called to do, although I could have extended but my branch president at home was against it).
My mission solidified and greatly deepened my commitment and belief in Mormonism. I was pretty orthodox; I loved Bruce R McConkie, tried to read everything I could, etc. Anyway, I was trying hard to be a faithful Latter-day Saint.
But I was also struggling with this feeling of sexual attraction toward guys.
That attraction first appeared I guess in early puberty in dreams. At first, I dreamt of bisexual threesomes. But the woman quickly dropped out of the dreams, and it was then just about the guy. My father also had porn around when I was a kid and teen, and when I could I would look at it; I was never interested in the women, but looked at the spreads of couples and focused on the men. I became intrigued by letters written to these magazines about guys having sex with their buddies and how great it was. This just fascinated me.
Meantime, I was a pretty straight-laced, repressed type who was almost anti-sex. I had crushes on girls (and probably on guys though at the time I attributed it to wanting a close male friend) but I was horrified by the idea of having any kind of sexual thoughts towards women because it was wrong, blahblahblah. I thought I was SO righteous and noble.
Anyway, after joining the church, I continued with this struggle. I was shy, and rarely dated; indeed, I have really only had 2 girlfriends in my life, both fairly serious but one ended when I left for the mission field and she moved away, and the other when she dumped me. My self-esteem always struggled with my small stature (5'5" and thin and not muscular at all, much less athletic) and I found the women I was attracted to usually saw me as a great little brother and friend but never as a potential romantic interest. After I got my first full-time job at 25 that seemed to change, but by then the gay feelings were get a little more insistent and I felt guilty about them which affected my ability to be open to being attracted back to some of these women (although most of the time, they were not my type; too often they seemed needy and clingy and that scared me).
My first real struggle with the gay feelings came a few years later when I was an elders quorum president and I went and bought gay porn and ended up released from my calling and put on probation for a couple of months. It was horrible although the process of being humbled was not a bad thing. But the idea that this total abstinence for two months from the m word and porn was a pipe dream. I got a new job and moved, and the "problem" resurfaced.
For the next ten years, I struggled increasingly with these issues. Through nearly all of it, the only person who knew what I was going through was my bishop at the time. No one else knew. I had been counseled not to talk to others about it. The secrecy really didn't help me much, but I felt trapped and obligated to live up to my strong convictions about Mormonism. I was a perfectionist in many ways, so when I "fell" I was very hard on myself. Lots of negative self-talk.
Finally, three years ago, after lots of changes in my life and another move (I'll talk about that some other time), I was in a new city and ward. My new bishop called me in, evidently to give me a calling, but when I told him I was strugglling with using porn and the m word, he concluded that I needed to be put on informal probation, to be prohibited from holding any callings, from praying or speaking in church, no taking of the sacrament, etc. An informal probation that seemed to have most of the restrictions of a disfellowshipment. Anyway, I could take the sacrament again if I could go a month without masturbation.
A few weeks later, I was struggling with digestive problems (acid reflux) and was put on some medication, including a pain killer that I think probably was a mild depressant. My bishop had referred me to and LDS social services counselor, who I met with and who was completely focused on helping me stop masturbating and using porn, with no insight on my sexual attractions. A few weeks after seeing him and starting the medication, I was feeling worse, and then right around Christmas fell into an episode of depression.
Depression is a terrible thing. I really didn't know anything about it, but I sure learned lots over the next few weeks and months. I had no energy, my body felt weighted down by lead, I couldn't sleep, my mind would at times race with uncontrollable wild thoughts, I could not use the computer for more than a few minutes without becoming really agitated, I couldn't read, I had no interest in anything that usually interested me. I had no sex drive at all.
I got medical help, eventually started taking anti-depressants, saw a great counselor, and started walking lots every day. It was hard, but after two or three months my mood was more or less back to an even keel.
However, in the process of all of this, I confronted the reality that many Latter-day Saints, including bishops, are really ignorant about depression. The anti-science/anti-medicine bias of many really bothered me.
But I also had to confront some things about myself. I came out to my parents on Christmas day. They are not LDS, and I have a gay brother, so while they were surprised by my revelation, they were totally supportive. The greatest blessing of my depression may be the way it has drawn me closer to them; not that I wasn't close, but in a lot of ways they really saved my life through that very difficult time.
I confronted the fact that during the depression I did not feel the spirit at all. Nothing. I was used to having spiritual feelings on a regular basis. Now, nothing. I couldn't understand this. I had always thought that the spirit was independent ultimately from the body and that while the body's condition influenced the spirit, if we were trying to live right we could still feel the spirit. It was not as if I was living any more unrighteously than I had before, so why now no spirit?
While I came out to my parents, by that I mean I said that I was "struggling" with gay feelings. I didn't want them. I wanted desperately to be straight. I didn't like that my parents were so supportive of me being gay. I felt like I was becoming some kind of battleground in this great war between the pro- and anti-gay movements. And I didn't want to be anyone else's battleground. But I didn't want to be gay.
A turning point that started the wheels in my head turning was meeting with a psychiatrist who specializes in gender identity issues. He pointed some things out to me that I had never thought about before that really made me think. At the time I met him, and all through the appointment, I was determined that at worst I was bi. When he had taken my history, he straight out said "you're gay". I resisted and argued with him. But he pointed out to me that if I were really straight like I thought and this gay stuff was just some temptation or something, why was it I only ever had dreams about sex with men? And he pointed out that real straight men do actually have to control their sexual attractions and feelings--how can you "bridle your thoughts" if there is nothing to bridle? At the time, I was dismissive, but over the coming months these ideas began to take root.
I moved again, back to where I am now, the city of my birth. I intended to return to church but in the end did not because I feared that the double issues of depression and sexuality would turn me into a battlefield in my ward that I didn't want to be. I wanted space to work through things myself.
I finally got referred to a psychiatrist here. He has worked with me ever since. At first, and for a long time, I fought with him over my sexuality and my religion. I was inactive, but still believed. But, over time, his challenging me forced me to confront myself, my beliefs about myself and about Mormonism and life generally. I also started studying some more about Mormonism in areas where I knew there were problems but had tended to be dismissive in the past, and I learned things that I had not known that put my faith in the church's claims in a different light. I also realized that my belief system rested on a lot of untested assumptions that, when challenged, were not so sturdy a foundation for my faith. I became more tentative about my beliefs, and eventually came to the conclusion that I could not believe in Mormonism's truth claims any more.
Eventually, I went to a coming out group and tried dating a few different guys. Some positive experiences, but in the end, no relationships developed, and I remained the 40plus year old virgin I have become. (Not that being virgin is all bad...in some ways, it makes me feel powerful).
Anyway, that is my basic story. With time, I will discuss certain aspects in more detail.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
attraction and non-attraction
Something that has always troubled me is the business of attraction. Both back when I was not out and was trying to date women, and after coming out, I have struggled with the problem of being attracted to people who are not attracted to me, and being attractive to people who don't attract me. It has happened so often, so consistently, with so few exceptions, that I have wondered at times whether something is fundamentally wrong with me that I am just clueless about.
Not wanting to believe that I am fundamentally flawed in this way, I have wondered if my problem is really that I don't really understand the role that attraction plays in finding a partner. From my observation of others, it seems to come really easily to many that they meet someone and develop a relationship. Are they "attracted" to each other in the sense I understand that term? On the other hand, am I simply putting too much stock in this concept of "attraction"? Is finding a partner really just a kind of a game of finding enough commonalities and being able to stand each other just enough or be attracted to each other just enough that you are willing to commit to be together?
And what makes one attractive to others? Why are certain types of people attracted to me and not others, specifically, but also, why are certain types of people attracted to certain individuals and not others?
Anyway, I'm curious to hear others' views on this question.
Not wanting to believe that I am fundamentally flawed in this way, I have wondered if my problem is really that I don't really understand the role that attraction plays in finding a partner. From my observation of others, it seems to come really easily to many that they meet someone and develop a relationship. Are they "attracted" to each other in the sense I understand that term? On the other hand, am I simply putting too much stock in this concept of "attraction"? Is finding a partner really just a kind of a game of finding enough commonalities and being able to stand each other just enough or be attracted to each other just enough that you are willing to commit to be together?
And what makes one attractive to others? Why are certain types of people attracted to me and not others, specifically, but also, why are certain types of people attracted to certain individuals and not others?
Anyway, I'm curious to hear others' views on this question.
Monday, November 13, 2006
The spirit of liberty
I think I may have posted this before as a comment somewhere, but I like the following quote enough to want to post it here early on. It is taken from a speech by Judge Learned Hand in a speech he gave in 1944. To me, it encapsulates the approach I am trying to take towards life:
"What then is the spirit of liberty? I cannot define it; I can only tell you my own faith. The spirit of liberty is the spirit which is not too sure that it is right; the spirit of liberty is the spirit which seeks to understand the mind of other men and women; the spirit of liberty is the spirit which weighs their interests alongside its own without bias; the spirit of liberty remembers that not even a sparrow falls to earth unheeded; the spirit of liberty is the spirit of Him who, near two thousand years ago, taught mankind that lesson it has never learned but never quite forgotten; that there may be a kingdom where the least shall be heard and considered side by side with the greatest."
- 21 May 1944, “I Am an American Day” ceremony held in Central Park, New York City
"What then is the spirit of liberty? I cannot define it; I can only tell you my own faith. The spirit of liberty is the spirit which is not too sure that it is right; the spirit of liberty is the spirit which seeks to understand the mind of other men and women; the spirit of liberty is the spirit which weighs their interests alongside its own without bias; the spirit of liberty remembers that not even a sparrow falls to earth unheeded; the spirit of liberty is the spirit of Him who, near two thousand years ago, taught mankind that lesson it has never learned but never quite forgotten; that there may be a kingdom where the least shall be heard and considered side by side with the greatest."
- 21 May 1944, “I Am an American Day” ceremony held in Central Park, New York City
a beginning...
After lurking around in the blogosphere for almost a year, I have decided to take the leap. I will probably use this space mostly to rant about whatever topic has me worked up on a given day.
But first, a little info about me and where I come from...
I'm an early 40something gay guy, single, out for about 3 years. Before that, I enjoyed the life of a Latter-day Saint, aka Mormon. I was a total believer and tried hard to live my religion. Which meant, I had to closet my sexuality big time, both to my church community and to myself. It took an episode of depression to make me question what I was doing with my life, and to begin to think outside the paradigm that I had embraced for 20 years of my life.
While my belief in Mormonism has largely waned, I still sit at the margins (as I suppose do many whose lives have followed that path and then left it) with some wistful longing for what is past. I consider myself a Christian, philosophically and theologically perhaps closest to Anglicanism, though at other times I wonder if I am not becoming some type of "Deist plus" where the "plus" leaves room to add in something about a Jesus who might have been divine in some way. Ultimately, I am trying to avoid the dogmatism of my past (more a self-imposed dogmatism than anything; I can't blame it all on Mormonism) and to keep my mind and heart open, but I confess that it is hard after 40 plus years to pretend that I am a tabula rasa intellectually or otherwise.
I have a British heritage of which I am proud and for which I am grateful. I suppose that will not make me popular with some who see in that heritage only oppression and domination. I recognize and accept that it is a heritage that bears some dark stains and that has brought sorrow to many. But I nevertheless maintain that it has brought much good to the world, and it is to that good part of my heritage that I cling. And, again, I cannot divorce myself from a heritage that has formed me for so long and made my parents and their ancestors for a thousand years who they were and are.
I tend to be reserved and shy, but I can be the opposite in the right environment. I tend to do better at being outgoing in a formal, structured environment where there are clearly defined relationships; I tend to struggle a lot with unstructured group environments, thus my tendency to avoid gay bars (I don't drink, anyway) and clubs where I feel very isolated and alone.
Anyway, that's enough for now. We'll see how long this blogging lasts ;)
But first, a little info about me and where I come from...
I'm an early 40something gay guy, single, out for about 3 years. Before that, I enjoyed the life of a Latter-day Saint, aka Mormon. I was a total believer and tried hard to live my religion. Which meant, I had to closet my sexuality big time, both to my church community and to myself. It took an episode of depression to make me question what I was doing with my life, and to begin to think outside the paradigm that I had embraced for 20 years of my life.
While my belief in Mormonism has largely waned, I still sit at the margins (as I suppose do many whose lives have followed that path and then left it) with some wistful longing for what is past. I consider myself a Christian, philosophically and theologically perhaps closest to Anglicanism, though at other times I wonder if I am not becoming some type of "Deist plus" where the "plus" leaves room to add in something about a Jesus who might have been divine in some way. Ultimately, I am trying to avoid the dogmatism of my past (more a self-imposed dogmatism than anything; I can't blame it all on Mormonism) and to keep my mind and heart open, but I confess that it is hard after 40 plus years to pretend that I am a tabula rasa intellectually or otherwise.
I have a British heritage of which I am proud and for which I am grateful. I suppose that will not make me popular with some who see in that heritage only oppression and domination. I recognize and accept that it is a heritage that bears some dark stains and that has brought sorrow to many. But I nevertheless maintain that it has brought much good to the world, and it is to that good part of my heritage that I cling. And, again, I cannot divorce myself from a heritage that has formed me for so long and made my parents and their ancestors for a thousand years who they were and are.
I tend to be reserved and shy, but I can be the opposite in the right environment. I tend to do better at being outgoing in a formal, structured environment where there are clearly defined relationships; I tend to struggle a lot with unstructured group environments, thus my tendency to avoid gay bars (I don't drink, anyway) and clubs where I feel very isolated and alone.
Anyway, that's enough for now. We'll see how long this blogging lasts ;)
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