"Too Much Gay"

At work yesterday, someone wrote "too much gay" on the communication board, referring either to the lack of business or the list of steaks we were running out of. I couldn't tell which. Unfortunately, this kind of "joke insult" is much too common at work. I hear it all the time. People change the lyrics in songs, so Ozzy Osbourne's "No More Tears" becomes "No More Queers" or something like that. It usually bothers me. I feel hurt and anxious and angry, even though I know it's not a personal attack. The board didn't say "Drakames is too much gay." It's not fair to hold them accountable for information that they don't know.

Yesterday, I was very tired, and much more vulnerable to the emotions that come up for me when someone does or says something like that. These are people I spend so much time with, people that I care about, and people I consider friends. It puts me in an interesting dilemma.

Do I say something? Do I run right up and erase the statement off the board? Will that give away my secret? I am so not ready to be out at work. I know that other people have their opinons, and their opinions are not my opinions. But I wonder if anything would change if they knew.

Is "too much gay" just something I have to get used to? Can I ever get used to it?

Choices

Some people say that being gay is a choice. If a gay person really wanted to, they could change their feelings. I don't buy it. Others have said it, and I've said it before too, but I'll say it again: why would I choose this?

I am more than aware of the distaste that many have for someone who is gay. I read comment after comment on the Ladies Home Journal website of people who were so upset that Ellen was on the cover. They were cancelling subscriptions, so offended that LHJ was furthering the gay agenda and promoting the homosexual lifestyle. Blah blah blah. They are, of course, entitled to their opinion. And some of them were of the opinion that being gay is a choice.

Why would someone like me, who was raised actively LDS in a conservative (sheltered) town, who grew up in a home with a mom and a dad, who is sensitive sometimes to a fault, choose to be gay? Why would I put myself in this "hated" stereotype? Why would I choose to possibly lose people that I care about?

Why would I agonize over what I feel if I was choosing it?

I don't have a say in it. I didn't choose that my eyes are blue. I didn't choose that I'm 5'4" tall. I didn't choose my name. I haven't made the choice to feel an attraction for women instead of men. Does a straight person sit down with themselves one day and weigh out the pros and cons of liking men vs. liking women? Do they decide that they're going to like the opposite sex? No, I'm pretty sure they don't. It's just that way for them. And it's just this way for me.

Here's where my ability to choose comes in. I can choose how I react to my feelings. I can choose who to share my information with. I can choose how to share my information. I can choose to hide who I am from the world because of how I think I will be treated. I can choose to pretend that I'm not gay because that is more socially soothing. I can choose to live openly as I am. I can choose how to react when someone tells me that they don't agree with my "choice."

When I wake up in the morning, my first thought is not "I think I'll be gay today." Everyday I make hundreds of choices. I've probably made millions in my lifetime. But choosing to be gay was never one of them.

Instead, I'm choosing to acknowledge it, because I can't change it. I am who I am. Today, I'm choosing to try and accept myself...because that actually is my choice.

"Free"

I want to stretch and feel the fresh air,
the sun, the moon, the salt of the sea,
I want to reach out to the sky
and know that my heart is free,

free to beat and flutter,
to cast a silent wish to stars above,
to let a little light into these hidden corners
and dare to dream for a "someday" love;

I want to stretch and find fresh air,
to reach out like a playful breeze,
to run, to dance, to hide and seek,
and know that my choice is free...

I want to breath the silk of fresh air
and know that I am me.

Wall of Wondering, part II

I saw my Gram today at my cousin's priesthood ordination. She commented to me that I looked happier than she had seen me in a long time.

Why do you suppose that is?
I wonder...is it because...
...of all the work I'm doing to turn my mind towards acceptance?
...yesterday was a more accepting day?
...I am still feeling accepting of myself today?
...I'm realizing that there is freedom in knowing who I am?
...I'm relaxing more and spending time with friends?
...I actually wore my hair down today?
...my niece woke me up on Saturday and Sunday and she just makes me happy?
...I got all dressed up for church?

I don't know.

Am I happier than I've been in a long time?
Or does it just appear that way?

The Treehouse

Sometimes I wonder about what God wants from me.

I was not taught to feel this way. I was not taught about what to do with these feelings or how to react to them. If anything, I was taught to believe that if they did exist, nothing good could come from them.

I was told to find a nice young man who would take me to the temple to be sealed for time and all eternity. The end. There is not another way.

This is the only faith I've known, and it seems now that it has no comfort for me. I thought that faith was supposed to be about hope instead of guilt. But guilt is all I feel. And hope? Not so much. Being told that my only option is to be alone, live alone, die alone, is not hopeful. I understand that celibacy is expected for any member who is single. But if I was straight, at least I would have the option to date and be close to someone and be loved by someone. If I was straight, at least I could have contact with someone. It wouldn't be a sin to hold someone's hand or snuggle close to them, or kiss them.

That's how the rules are though. Anyone who is heterosexual is allowed to play the game. Anyone who isn't...sidelines for you. And don't you dare move. You're a spectator and that's all you're allowed to be.

Sometimes I even feel like the faith that I have been taught to trust in has turned its back on me. It's like the LDS Church has the neighborhood treehouse, and the sign out front reads NO GAYS ALLOWED. I guess that's because I feel more like an elephant in the room than a daughter of God.

I wish I had a place to be me. I wish I had a safe place where I could be myself and express my feelings and it would be okay. I wish there was enough love in the world that people could just be happy and not judge others for the kind of love they wanted, and you wouldn't be a freak of nature begging for the wrath of God for loving differently. I wish that other people wouldn't decide for me how I should love or who I should love.

But I'm not allowed in the treehouse. And that makes me feel like I should turn somewhere else.

Some Days...

There is not a map that I know of that draws a direct line for getting to acceptance. And there's more than one way to get there. That can be a good thing. It can also be confusing as hell.

Some days, I feel I can be accepting of myself. There are some days where I am completely comfortable with the knowledge that I am gay. I know it's not all of me. I feel what I feel and I don't judge myself for it. It just is.

Some days, I feel like it's the end of the world. I don't know how I can live with myself knowing what I know, thinking what I think, and feeling what I feel. It seems like it's so wrong, and I am terrible for all of it.

Some days, I'm just plain frustrated, going back and forth between hating myself and trying to show the smallest hint of compassion for the struggle that my heart is caught up in.

And sometimes, as weird as it sounds, it's almost like I can feel all of it at once. It's an overpowering bouquet of emotion. I'd rather look at roses.

I wonder if there will ever be a day when it will be okay to be me in any light, on any street, at any hour of the day. I want it to be okay. I want to be okay enough with who I am that I can meet that day with a smile on my face. Is it out there? Is it a dream?

I hope it's a dream that can come true.

Wall of Wondering, part I

why does it hurt to keep a secret? why does it feel better to tell the truth?

is there something fundamental about the truth that speaks to an innate sense of right and wrong?

if that's true, then why does something that so many say is wrong feel right? how can it?

why does it ache to be alone? why do we seek companionship and love? is there something essential about sharing your life and heart? is there something intrinsic about being two instead of one?

why, if that is natural, would God give you such a powerful sense of love and such a capacity to love and then condemn you for wanting to fulfill it?

how can people be so cruel to those they see as different? why is different so bad?

if being gay just happens, how can people say it is wrong?

"If I Could Tell You"

I am chained to the truth,
I cannot change its color or its voice,
it speaks the words it has to speak
and does not offer me a choice...

it does not listen in the night
when my dreams seek to change its mind,
it knows what it knows,
and what that is, is up to me to find...

it knows my name and my struggle
and still pursues my heart,
I have tried to run and tried to fight,
yet still, we cannot live apart...

so it seems this truth is mine,
I cannot change what has to be,
it will exist as it is,
always remaining chained to me...

if only it was acceptable
for what is true to indeed be true,
perhaps then, I could live and love
and have nothing to fear from you.