I just ended a week-long chat flirtation with a very nice man who was only really interested in my nice arms...and other things. This is important because over the last week and a half, I reverted to some unhealthy behavior I thought I'd left behind me a long time ago. I guess I had forgotten the numbing emptiness that often accompanied such indecency. Apparently, I needed a reminder of why I'd migrated away from the behaviors in the first place. In any case, it felt really good to tell this man, in essence, that I was worth getting to know, and unless he wanted to do that, I was no longer interested in engaging his time or attention. It's also amusing to me that this guy, who had pounced every time I logged into Yahoo since our initial acquaintance, couldn't get away from me fast enough once our exchange verged on becoming real and personal. Some people would say that makes me a tease. I acknowledge their right to an opinion, and am really glad none of them are my friends.
After being treated like a scratching post for so long, mainly because I didn't think I was worth more than that, I'm finally ready to be treated like a human being. I have a lot to offer someone, and I won't settle for anything less than being appreciated for the quirky, loving, frustrating, passionate, tender, profound, caring, obtuse, and sensitive person that I am. I am ready to love and be loved. It's exciting and scary, and it feels good to be ready for it.
Adieu, sir. You SO weren't what I was looking for.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Merciful Nature
I've been languishing with a sore throat and achy body for the past two days. Last night, I was watching an episode of Nature on PBS about leopards. I briefly thought to myself how simple it would be to be a leopard. I wouldn't have to worry about money or the economy or the possibility of Michelle Bachman becoming president. It occurred to me then, however, that if I was a leopard, I would most likely be the dumb one that got eaten by a lion. I also thought how merciful nature was to kill off the inferior ones so they wouldn't suffer with their weaknesses. Delirium's great, isn't it?
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Maybe Darwin Wasn't Wrong...
There are times I stare at the computer screen with my web browser of choice open and think to myself, "I know this is a powerful tool, but what, exactly, can I do with it?" Ultimately, what do I do? I open Facebook to check and see if anyone has validated my existence by posting a comment or sending me a message, or worse, I'll go window shopping on Ebay or Amazon. I know there are other things I could do that would actually improve my life or allow me to accomplish something worthwhile, but instead I waste more time. I feel like a gorilla in a cage who's been given the keys to get out but, instead, just jangles them or tries to chew on them while the humans watch me in amusement. When will I evolve?
Gratefully, there are things in my life that have changed significantly. Most relevant of these to this blog is my willingness to face new or difficult things. It's becoming steadily easier for me to take a deep breath and plunge into the unknown, and this is a good thing. This is where "evolution" occurs. So maybe the question I should ask is, "When will I be able to forsake crawling for walking? And then walking for running?" I hope that learning to run, metaphorically speaking, will help me feel all one peace.
Gratefully, there are things in my life that have changed significantly. Most relevant of these to this blog is my willingness to face new or difficult things. It's becoming steadily easier for me to take a deep breath and plunge into the unknown, and this is a good thing. This is where "evolution" occurs. So maybe the question I should ask is, "When will I be able to forsake crawling for walking? And then walking for running?" I hope that learning to run, metaphorically speaking, will help me feel all one peace.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
The Help
I just finished reading The Help by Kathryn Stockett. There are so many things right about this book. In fact, it does its job so well, that I need to rant a little because one of the characters has me so upset.
Hilly Holbrook is the main antagonist in the story. The author has done her job well with this portrait, painting Hilly as a loving mother who truly believes that the races of the world should be segregated and that the status quo of the 1960's social order should be left intact. She wields her social power with the ruthlessness of a cudgel yet the precision of a scalpel to achieve her objectives. No mere mustache twirler, Hilly illustrates the devastating power of gossip and rumor. She holds the threat of societal exclusion and exile over the heads of Jackson, Mississippi and the county around it. With a few words, Hilly affects the employment and, therefore, survival of entire families. Her love for her own children keeps her from being cliché, but I couldn't help feeling that I wanted to extinguish her existence. I cannot abide malice in people.
Luckily, The Help indirectly offers an antidote to the poison of malicious words. Gossip and rumor are both creatures of the dark. They cannot suffer the light of truth, especially when skillfully employed to leave no dim corners for their survival. Although it is a double-edged sword, the truth does indeed set people free whether they want that freedom or not.
Transparency is a rare commodity these days. It was nowhere to be found in Washington D.C., both sides of the debt debate posturing and drawing lines in the sand, endangering us all with their stubborn refusal to listen or compromise. Even in supposed places of light and learning, like Idaho State University, it is difficult to find lines of clear sight left unobscured by secrecy and "spin." I'm tired of the bullies. I wish other people were tired of them, too. Tired enough to do like the colored maids did in The Help, swallowing their fear and putting their lives on the line to shine the light of truth on the cancerous veil of misdirection and outright falsehood. It's time to rise up against the oppressors, folks! It's time we stopped allowing ourselves to be divided by false lines. It's time we stopped believing that there isn't enough of what we need to go around, allowing our fear to spawn greed and selfishness. Heal us, Lord, and make us whole...because it's apparent after thousands of years of human history that we can't do it on our own. (There. I warned you it would be a rant.)
Transparency is a rare commodity these days. It was nowhere to be found in Washington D.C., both sides of the debt debate posturing and drawing lines in the sand, endangering us all with their stubborn refusal to listen or compromise. Even in supposed places of light and learning, like Idaho State University, it is difficult to find lines of clear sight left unobscured by secrecy and "spin." I'm tired of the bullies. I wish other people were tired of them, too. Tired enough to do like the colored maids did in The Help, swallowing their fear and putting their lives on the line to shine the light of truth on the cancerous veil of misdirection and outright falsehood. It's time to rise up against the oppressors, folks! It's time we stopped allowing ourselves to be divided by false lines. It's time we stopped believing that there isn't enough of what we need to go around, allowing our fear to spawn greed and selfishness. Heal us, Lord, and make us whole...because it's apparent after thousands of years of human history that we can't do it on our own. (There. I warned you it would be a rant.)
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
A Confessional Reply
I received a message yesterday from a friend asking what the catalyst was for my coming out. This was my reply to him:
M*****,
I’m sorry this reply took so long, but I had to think carefully about what to say and how to say it. You refer to an “about face” and asked me what changed. Perhaps if I tell you a few things about my experience, my answer will be more understandable.
My first sexual experience with another boy happened just after I turned 8 years old. I continued having occasional experiences, mostly with the same person, until I turned 14. At that point, I was old enough to have some understanding of the gravity, in the eyes of the Church, of what I’d been engaging in. I told my parents and they took me to see the bishop. He thought it was something that would go away with time, so he told me not to tell anyone about it, to read The Miracle of Forgiveness, and we never really talked about it again. (Incidentally, he recommended I see a counselor, but at the time, my parents didn’t trust the psychiatric profession at all, so I literally wasn’t able to talk about this with anyone.) All through high school, I managed to refrain from having fun with other people, though I often had fun with myself. For the most part, I was able to appear normal, but there were many unanswered questions I had that were buried beneath my self-denial. I also felt very isolated
When I left home to go to college, those unanswered questions followed me. I also was not prepared to conduct my own life, so the experience was very stressful for me. I retreated into an over-zealous religiosity, offending my roommates and becoming very obnoxious to be around because I was so judgmental. In the second semester, a 26 year-old Peruvian joined the student body of the music department. He could sing much better than most of the rest of us, and I was very interested in him. One day, he told me that his roommates would be gone all weekend and he didn’t like to stay in his apartment by himself. He asked if I would like to sleep over. My instincts told me there was much more to his invitation than his words implied, but I told him yes. A huge battle sprang up inside me between my need to know the answers to my many questions and the warning voices that screamed at me to play it safe. The night of the sleep over, I had this powerful urge to call this guy and cancel, but I told myself that I was being stupid and cowardly. I went to the sleep over.
Within the first hour, the guy started putting the moves on me. It didn’t take him long to get past my defenses. We started fooling around. The encounter didn’t reach full consummation until the next morning. At that point, I freaked out. I realized that there were HUGE consequences for what I’d just allowed to happen, and I wasn’t ready to face them. The guy tried for a while to calm me down, but I left as quickly as I could. For the next few days, he tried to win me back, but I was in full retreat by that time and I killed any possibility of anything happening with him ever again.
I again went to my parents. They took me to the bishop (a different one because the previous one had been released). Working with him and my college ward bishop, I was put on probation for 6 weeks. Four months later, I was taking my endowments out at the temple and preparing for a mission. I was determined that I was going to obey my way to straightness. All through my mission, I followed the rules to the best of my ability. I was able to go for two years without even having fun with myself. Not once.
When I returned home, it became apparent to me pretty quickly that all that obedience on my mission hadn’t “cured” me. To keep an already long story from becoming even longer, I’ll just say that I struggled on for four years, trying to find a way to calm the fire in my blood. There was one girl that I came close to proposing to, but I knew that I couldn’t in all honesty kneel across an altar from her and promise fidelity to her…at least not yet. It ended because she grew impatient and started playing games, trying to make me jealous with another guy. I let the other guy have her.
There finally came a day when I knew I couldn’t run anymore. I was spinning my wheels, getting nowhere in my life, spending all my energy fighting myself. It wasn’t easy to let go of my struggle. It’s been more than ten years and I still find myself somewhat caught between what I’ve felt I was supposed to be and what I am by my physical nature. It’s easier now, though, than it used to be. Being able to talk about it and experience it has helped me understand it better and deal with it better.
Now, how do I know I’m not just confusing strong feelings of friendship with sexuality? I don’t. I fall in love with friends, new and old. The process of opening our souls up to each other is one of the most exciting things, both spiritually and sexually, that I know. It always begins with an attraction to his soul that then develops into a longing for a physical intimacy to complete the spiritual one. I’ve never really wanted that with a girl, at least not that I can remember. In fact, there was once that a female friend of mine tried to put some moves on me that made me so uncomfortable I cried. Broke down right in front of her. That’s never happened to me with a guy. Please understand, though, that I never move on my friends unless it's clear that they welcome the advances. And if it comes to keeping or losing a friendship, I'd much rather have a friend than lose a lover. I have a lot of friends.
How do I reconcile all of this with my feelings about God, Jesus Christ and the Church? I don’t. However, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that God and Jesus are not fond of liars. I figure as long as I’m being honest with myself and others about my thoughts and feelings, that’s got to count for something. And aren’t we here to learn about being human anyway? Wasn’t that what this whole earth life thing is about? Didn’t Eve tell Adam in the Pearl of Great Price that if it weren’t for their transgression, they’d have never known good from evil? I have to trust that if God had wanted to, He would have straightened me out, answering many, many prayers. Instead, I’m still “experiencing same-sex attraction” as the Church calls it. There has to be a reason.
By the way, although I’ve been involved with university organizations that deal with issues of sexuality, I’ve never been president of one. Just thought you should know the truth about that, too.
I hope this is helpful in some way. Thanks for having the guts, grace, trust and respect to ask me.
Sincerely,
Trent
M*****,
I’m sorry this reply took so long, but I had to think carefully about what to say and how to say it. You refer to an “about face” and asked me what changed. Perhaps if I tell you a few things about my experience, my answer will be more understandable.
My first sexual experience with another boy happened just after I turned 8 years old. I continued having occasional experiences, mostly with the same person, until I turned 14. At that point, I was old enough to have some understanding of the gravity, in the eyes of the Church, of what I’d been engaging in. I told my parents and they took me to see the bishop. He thought it was something that would go away with time, so he told me not to tell anyone about it, to read The Miracle of Forgiveness, and we never really talked about it again. (Incidentally, he recommended I see a counselor, but at the time, my parents didn’t trust the psychiatric profession at all, so I literally wasn’t able to talk about this with anyone.) All through high school, I managed to refrain from having fun with other people, though I often had fun with myself. For the most part, I was able to appear normal, but there were many unanswered questions I had that were buried beneath my self-denial. I also felt very isolated
When I left home to go to college, those unanswered questions followed me. I also was not prepared to conduct my own life, so the experience was very stressful for me. I retreated into an over-zealous religiosity, offending my roommates and becoming very obnoxious to be around because I was so judgmental. In the second semester, a 26 year-old Peruvian joined the student body of the music department. He could sing much better than most of the rest of us, and I was very interested in him. One day, he told me that his roommates would be gone all weekend and he didn’t like to stay in his apartment by himself. He asked if I would like to sleep over. My instincts told me there was much more to his invitation than his words implied, but I told him yes. A huge battle sprang up inside me between my need to know the answers to my many questions and the warning voices that screamed at me to play it safe. The night of the sleep over, I had this powerful urge to call this guy and cancel, but I told myself that I was being stupid and cowardly. I went to the sleep over.
Within the first hour, the guy started putting the moves on me. It didn’t take him long to get past my defenses. We started fooling around. The encounter didn’t reach full consummation until the next morning. At that point, I freaked out. I realized that there were HUGE consequences for what I’d just allowed to happen, and I wasn’t ready to face them. The guy tried for a while to calm me down, but I left as quickly as I could. For the next few days, he tried to win me back, but I was in full retreat by that time and I killed any possibility of anything happening with him ever again.
I again went to my parents. They took me to the bishop (a different one because the previous one had been released). Working with him and my college ward bishop, I was put on probation for 6 weeks. Four months later, I was taking my endowments out at the temple and preparing for a mission. I was determined that I was going to obey my way to straightness. All through my mission, I followed the rules to the best of my ability. I was able to go for two years without even having fun with myself. Not once.
When I returned home, it became apparent to me pretty quickly that all that obedience on my mission hadn’t “cured” me. To keep an already long story from becoming even longer, I’ll just say that I struggled on for four years, trying to find a way to calm the fire in my blood. There was one girl that I came close to proposing to, but I knew that I couldn’t in all honesty kneel across an altar from her and promise fidelity to her…at least not yet. It ended because she grew impatient and started playing games, trying to make me jealous with another guy. I let the other guy have her.
There finally came a day when I knew I couldn’t run anymore. I was spinning my wheels, getting nowhere in my life, spending all my energy fighting myself. It wasn’t easy to let go of my struggle. It’s been more than ten years and I still find myself somewhat caught between what I’ve felt I was supposed to be and what I am by my physical nature. It’s easier now, though, than it used to be. Being able to talk about it and experience it has helped me understand it better and deal with it better.
Now, how do I know I’m not just confusing strong feelings of friendship with sexuality? I don’t. I fall in love with friends, new and old. The process of opening our souls up to each other is one of the most exciting things, both spiritually and sexually, that I know. It always begins with an attraction to his soul that then develops into a longing for a physical intimacy to complete the spiritual one. I’ve never really wanted that with a girl, at least not that I can remember. In fact, there was once that a female friend of mine tried to put some moves on me that made me so uncomfortable I cried. Broke down right in front of her. That’s never happened to me with a guy. Please understand, though, that I never move on my friends unless it's clear that they welcome the advances. And if it comes to keeping or losing a friendship, I'd much rather have a friend than lose a lover. I have a lot of friends.
How do I reconcile all of this with my feelings about God, Jesus Christ and the Church? I don’t. However, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that God and Jesus are not fond of liars. I figure as long as I’m being honest with myself and others about my thoughts and feelings, that’s got to count for something. And aren’t we here to learn about being human anyway? Wasn’t that what this whole earth life thing is about? Didn’t Eve tell Adam in the Pearl of Great Price that if it weren’t for their transgression, they’d have never known good from evil? I have to trust that if God had wanted to, He would have straightened me out, answering many, many prayers. Instead, I’m still “experiencing same-sex attraction” as the Church calls it. There has to be a reason.
By the way, although I’ve been involved with university organizations that deal with issues of sexuality, I’ve never been president of one. Just thought you should know the truth about that, too.
I hope this is helpful in some way. Thanks for having the guts, grace, trust and respect to ask me.
Sincerely,
Trent
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