Choices

Some choices are easy to make.  There's no real fear of their consequences.  Something in you knows what choice needs to be made, so you make it.  Easy. 

Some choices are much more difficult and require much more thought.  For me, that leads to some sleepless nights and stress.  We weigh the options and try to measure the consequences.  We pick up each piece to examine it and try to see what future it could possibly bring.  The simplicity doesn't exist within the threads of these choices, but a choice must be made.

Other choices are placed in front of us because of the agenda of someone else.  These are the choices that, if you were really given the choice, you would never see and never have to make a decision about.  These are the unimaginable, the dreaded, the choices that present themselves in your nightmares, because facing them in the real world is, by definition, a nightmare.

For me, and I would guess for a few others in this great wide world, one of those nightmare choices would be having to decide between my family and being who I am.

My brother-in-law once said that if I decided to live my life openly, there would be a day when I would have to choose between my family and my lifestyle.  On the recent family vacation, my youngest sister brought this up in a discussion we had at her insistence.  She has remembered those words from my brother-in-law and is worried that the prophetic day is moving ever closer.

And yet, if that choice was actually given to me, it would be one that I would choose to never see.

Both of my sisters are married.  My youngest sister even mentioned to me that she could understand how I felt to a certain extent, because given the choice, she would rather spend time with her husband than with the rest of us.  But that's how it's supposed to be.  You grow up, you find someone you love and want to spend the rest of your life with, and you do.  You leave the nest.  You build a nest of your own.  You find the pieces of your life and you make something beautiful out of them.

I love my girlfriend with all my heart.  She is amazing and beautiful and I miss her when I'm not with her, even if I know I'll see her in a few hours.  She loves me completely, she treats me well and wants to be with me.  We both want to spend the rest of our lives together.  And just like my sister, I would rather spend my time with her than with the rest of the family.

My brothers-in-law have been welcomed with open arms.  Naturally.  They married my sisters and my parents couldn't be happier.  They honor their Priesthood and are sealed to my sisters.  They golf with my dad.  They are good fathers and husbands.  They get birthday and Christmas gifts from my parents and grandparents.  Their phone numbers are programmed into cell phones across the family.  My parents ask my sisters about them, wondering how they are and hoping they are well.

This is not the case for me.

My parents don't want to meet my girlfriend.  Neither does my middle sister and her husband.  They don't want to hear about her, have her in their home, or even think about her.  I'm fairly confident that they hope that I'll come to my senses and escape the spell she has on me.  There won't be a birthday card for her in August.  There won't be a gift under the tree in December with her name on it.  She won't be invited to the next barbeque.  Therefore, I do not have the option of being with my girlfriend and being with my family at the same time.

If the choice was given, I would change that.  I would give up the compartments I keep my life in.  I would spend more time with my family because I wouldn't have to give up any time with my girlfriend.  She is my future.  She is my life.  Time without her is empty.

So whether they know it or not, making that choice will not be my choice.  It will be theirs.  They will be the ones who ask me to give up her for them.  I know the reverse will not be true.  They will be the ones who force that decision, not me.  And if they don't want me to have to choose, they shouldn't put it in front of me.

We're Everywhere

I just got back from family vacation.  The rest of the family is still out in California.  I had to work and I have school, so I had to come back early.

Initially I was not excited to go.  There was all sorts of stress leading up to leaving on this vacation and it was difficult to get fired up about it.  This was vacation with my mom's family, so her two brothers and their families and my grandma were all there too.  Out of the twenty people though, ten were from my immediate family.

We went to Disneyland / California Adventure.  I liked that we could hop back and forth from park to park, so I got to ride pretty much everything I wanted to.  I had fun with my youngest sister and her husband and my dad and I have been roller coaster buddies for years.  The nieces and nephew were of course adorable and they loved every second of seeing characters and riding kiddie rides. 

I really missed my girlfriend though.  It's so difficult for me to be with my family and have to censor everything I say so that they aren't uncomfortable.  I'm glad that my brother in law gives me space to talk about her and the things that really go on in my life.  He's such an incredible person and I'm glad he's married to my sister.

On Saturday, my dad and I went to the park earlier than everyone else.  I had a lingering feeling of sadness, missing my girl and wishing she was there to share the vacation with me. 

On this particular morning though, I happen to see several lesbian couples, one with kids, three without.  And even though I didn't talk to them, didn't really go near them, and only made eye contact with one girl, it was like their presence comforted me in some way.  I wasn't alone.  Something about seeing them just made me feel better and I knew it would be okay.

Later that night, I snuck away from my parents to buy a Mickey Mouse pin, shaped like Mickey's head but striped with the colors of the rainbow.  I thought it was funny and would make a good gift for my girl (and we had a good laugh about it).  I bought a Disney Star Wars pin for myself too.  The girl that was at the register commented that she thought it was a cool combination, being Rainbow and Imperial.  She also told me about a rainbow lanyard that Disney makes for pin collecting, because she wore it to Pride.  We had a small conversation, but an enjoyable one.  Again, it made me feel better.

I'm glad that we're everywhere and I'm grateful that my other family was able to be there for me when I needed them, even if they'll never know it.

Me and My Girl

I don't have pics from Pride yet. My computer and I are fighting.

My girlfriend and I did take some pics last night after Brandon and Michael's wedding though, and since I'm not fighting with my phone, I thought I would post some of those.

This is my girlfriend. She's my favorite. :)















I'm so lucky to have her. I just love her.

Perceptions

How would this be?

Someone I know was telling me that when his brother finally came out, his parents were ecstatic for him, because they had already assumed for awhile that he was gay. "Good for you," they said, "we know you'll be happier now."

When his sister got engaged to a Mormon, his parents called a family meeting to discuss it.

The "bad" and the "good" is really in how you perceive it.

Homeless

I suppose the title of this post could be somewhat misleading, so allow me to preface with this: I have not been kicked out of my house.

That being said, I am writing this post from the safety and comfort of my car, because I have the night off and should be studying for my history midterm, but I do not want to go home.

A brief summary of roughly the last ten months goes like this:

I lived for four years with a friend from high school. I moved out when I came out due to the strain that put on our friendship. I have not really spoken with her since. Not having many options, I moved back in with my parents. About three weeks later, I got together with my girlfriend. In September, her brother, whom she lives with, bought a house. And now to make a long story short, I keep my possessions at my parents house but I spend most of my free time and all of my sleeping time at my girlfriend's place of residence. Her brother has no problem with me being there and I want to be with my girlfriend, so that's where I am.

Moving forward...

I realized the other day that I am kind of mad at my parents. When my mom found out I was going to Pride, she made a comment about how I am just getting deeper and deeper into "this" and she doesn't like it. She used her best disappointed-in-you tone of voice. And I, of course, went to Pride anyway.

I guess it's frustrating because I thought she was making progress and it was apparent to me that she believes this "gay thing" will pass. I'm sure the Phase Argument is one that many parents go through. And even though this encounter was just with my mom, for some reason I have lumped my parents as one on this. Can I blame them for still reacting the way they do? No. Would I like to anyway? Absolutely.

And now, sitting in my car, I am realizing that I am much too independent at 27 to be living with my parents in any capacity.

That is a good thing. We're all suppose to fly the coop and live our lives. But it doesn't do me a whole lot of good when I have the night off but my girlfriend is working...and I don't want to be anywhere near my parents...and I am paying for school instead of rent...and my girlfriend wants to get out of debt before we get a place together...

Hence, the title. Right now I feel homeless.

At least I love my car. ;)

(million dollar phone approved)

Pride Highlights

Pride this year was so much better than last year and I loved every second of it! If you have never been to Pride, next year you should go with me.

Here's a few significant moments:

** The very best thing ever was that I was there with my beautiful girlfriend and we could actually hold hands and act like a couple without any fear!

** The sunshine was out instead of hiding behind massive rainclouds, and I was not soaked to the bone.

** I remembered sunscreen and didn't get sunburned (which is really quite a feat for me and my fair skin).

** I got to dress how I wanted, spike my hair, and sport a bandana.

** I got to spend all day with great friends and wonderful people in a safe and accepting, supportive environment.

** We saw from afar and had a very brief encounter with my girlfriend's ex-wife, which was interesting to say the least. Good or bad? Probably neither, but definitely memorable.

** I saw three of my favorite boys, Michael, Brandon, and Michael, and they got to meet my girl. LOVE them!

All in all, it was just as wonderful as I hoped it would be. It was awesome to actually be free. It was beautiful to feel free. And hopefully I can get the pics I took uploaded to my computer soon.

Hope your Pride weekend was good for you too, no matter where you are.


(million dollar phone approved)

Weird

Today in my Geography class, we discussed the layers of the Earth. I have heard this before on someone else's blog, but I now have firsthand knowledge of the Mohorovicic Discontinuity, shortened to the Moho Discontinuity.

And it's really weird to hear the word "Moho" from your college professor and know the conversation has nothing to do with religion or sexual orientation.

I wonder if anyone else in the class knew of the "other" kind of Moho.

Can't wait to see it on a test!

How I Do Pride

Pride is this weekend and I am so excited! Last year was my first Pride and it managed to be both great and miserable a the same time. I was only out to about four people. It was an amazing experience to be in an environment where it was 110% acceptable to be loud and proud about who you are. At the same time, I felt sadness about not being more out. And I vowed that never again would I be in the closet for Pride. I made it a personal goal to make great strides before June 2010.

Mission accomplished! I have a short haircut, a girlfriend, and a rainbow belt, all of which will proudly be accompanying me to Pride. I will also have my amazing friends, who love and support me in being who I am. I'm out at work and to my immediate family, which really is the majority of my social circle. That's really quite a feat for one as introverted as me.

I'll be there Sunday. Will I see you there?

-- blogged from my iPhone --

Bravery

Last week I pretty much cut all my hair off. Well okay, I didn't cut it, a trained professional did, but it's cut nonetheless. It used to be down to about the middle of my back. Now it's more the length of Ellen's, to use an example you might relate to.

The thing that has surprised me most about the comments I've received is that I am "so brave."

So I looked up "brave" in the dictionary and it means "showing courage." And "courage" is "the ability to conquer fear or despair."

Brave?

I didn't feel any fear about cutting my hair. My only despair was that I couldn't get it chopped sooner than I did. It was something I wanted to do and something I was ready to do. I'm not super girlie (shocking, I know), so I'm not really attached to my hair. My philosophy is that it will grow back. No worries. But I know other girls who would rather lose a limb than their hair.

It got me thinking. I guess BRAVE is like good, evil, fun, and boring: it's a point of view.

From my perspective, what I did was not brave. I hadn't considered a haircut from any other angle. From someone else's perspective, they can't imagine doing what I did.

So then I started thinking on a larger scale. Regardless of where you're standing in your life, I say there's a certain amount of bravery in every life. Sometimes it takes courage to cut off your hair. Sometimes it takes courage to take a job interview. Sometimes it takes courage to be who you are. Sometimes it takes courage to get out of bed in the morning.

Just because it's easy and requires little courage for me doesn't mean it's easy for someone else.

So here's to you, whoever you are, because I know you are brave and strong. You are courageous because you live.

Will and Grace

I used to watch Will and Grace when it was new on TV. It was part of the Thursday night lineup with Friends and ER. Best night on television. And I loved it.

When I was at my sister's house a couple weeks ago, I watched a re-run. And I just about died laughing.

Will and Grace is a completely different show after coming out and hanging out in the LGBT community! I get the jokes now and I just giggled pretty much the entire time.

I'm going to look into getting the seasons on DVD now. Heaven knows we all need a good laugh.

Intertwined

There was an accident on Thursday night.

My girlfriend and I were watching a movie.  She lives next to the train tracks.  When I looked out the window to see what was making the noise I was hearing, I saw a FrontRunner train.  Stopped.  That was weird in and of itself, but we assumed that there was something malfunctioning with the train or that there was something amiss with the tracks and went back to watching the movie.

Then it sounded like a helicopter was going to land on the house.  I looked out the window again.  The cul-de-sac was alive like a firework display of red and blue flashing lights and all the neighbors were out of their houses.  Firefighters, EMT's, and police officers were carrying a rescue gurney down the tracks to the Union Pacific gate that is a few hundred yards from the driveway.  The helicopter that I heard was Life Flight landing in the next cul-de-sac over.

We stood on the porch and watched the scene, anxious and curious.  Life Flight didn't see the cul-de-sac where my girlfriend's house is, and while there isn't a large distance between where it landed and the railroad tracks as the crow flies, to walk that distance, especially while carrying the weight of another human being, is another story.  Shortly after the gurney was out of our sight, an EMT came racing back, pleading for the use of a truck parked on the street.

Turns out that a young man had jumped from the bridge onto the tracks in an attempt to commit suicide.  He was coherant and talking to officials as they reached him and carried him, but shortly after they were on the street, his blood pressure dropped and his vitals became unstable.  I imagine that's about the time the EMT went searching for the owner of the truck.

The damage was done though.  Despite the heroic efforts of emergency crews, he didn't make it.

I don't know any more about the story than what I witnessed.  I don't know his name.  I don't know for sure how old he was, as one official said 18 and another said 20.  I don't know how long he laid on the tracks, if he felt any physical pain, how many siblings he had.  The only thing I know about his life was that he didn't want to live it anymore.

To be so young and to be so hopeless, so desperate to end the pain you feel...that is tragedy to me.  What makes it especially heightened is that I have been there myself, desperate and hopeless, and I know those emotions do not have to last.

I have thought about him a lot.  I have wondered about who he was.  I have prayed that his family can be comforted as they ask their own questions and try to manage the grief that comes when a loved one leaves this life.  I have prayed for his safety and comfort as well, and hope that he can feel of the impact his life has had and the love that exists for him.  I pray that the Spirit of God will grant him the peace that he could not find, and that it will be with him now and forever.

This incident has also brought to mind one of John Donne's writings, Meditation 17.  I have posted it in its entirety, but particularly the paragraph where he says:

"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

For the rest of the night, as FrontRunner trains would pass, the sound of their bells could be heard.  I'm sure it was a potential warning to anyone who could still be in the area investigating.  It seemed fitting in some way, some small mention that something had happened, and that mankind was the less that night, and from that night forward.

Again, I resound my plea, that if you are at the point where this young man was, desperate and hopeless, and you are done with living the life that you have, please please please just wait a minute longer, ten minutes longer, an hour longer, a day longer.  There is beauty in this life.  There is joy in this life.  There are small things that matter a great deal and there are people who love and care about you more than you can believe or imagine.  You have the strength to grow from the pain.  You have the courage to take another breath, and another, and another, and let your heart keep beating.  I know you do.  Just pause...for a moment...and find it within yourself.  Take my word for it if you don't believe in the power you have.

The pain I feel surrounding this young man's death cannot compare to the pain of those who knew him, those he left behind.  But it's a pain I feel.  He had no way of knowing that his life would touch mine, however briefly, and that he would forever imprint my memory.  We are all connected.  Our lives are intertwined.

This world would be the less without you.

John Donne's Meditation 17

MEDITATION XVII
(From Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions)

NUNC LENTO SONITU DICUNT, MORIERIS.
Now this bell tolling softly for another, says to me, Thou must die.

PERCHANCE he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill as that he knows not it tolls for him. And perchance I may think myself so much better than I am, as that they who are about me, and see my state, may have caused it to toll for me, and I know not that. The church is catholic, universal, so are all her actions; all that she does, belongs to all. When she baptizes a child, that action concerns me; for that child is thereby connected to that head which is my head too, and ingraffed into that body, whereof I am a member. And when she buries a man, that action concerns me; all mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated; God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again, for that library where every book shall lie open to one another; as therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come; so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness.

There was a contention as far as a suit (in which, piety and dignity, religion and estimation, were mingled) which of the religious orders should ring to prayers first in the morning; and it was determined, that they should ring first that rose earliest. If we understand aright the dignity of this bell, that tolls for our evening prayer, we would be glad to make it ours, by rising early, in that application, that it might be ours as well as his, whose indeed it is. The bell doth toll for him, that thinks it doth; and though it intermit again, yet from that minute, that that occasion wrought upon him, he is united to God. Who casts not up his eye to the sun when it rises? But who takes off his eye from a comet, when that breaks out? who bends not his ear to any bell, which upon any occasion rings? But who can remove it from that bell, which is passing a piece of himself out of this world?

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

Neither can we call this a begging of misery, or a borrowing of misery, as though we were not miserable enough of ourselves, but must fetch in more from the next house, in taking upon us the misery of our neighbors. Truly it were an excusable covetousness if we did; for affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it. No man hath afflicion enough, that is not matured and ripened by it, and made fit for God by that affliction. If a man carry treasure in bullion or in a wedge of gold, and have none coined into current moneys, his treasure will not defray him as he travels. Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our home, heaven, by it. Another may be sick too, and sick to death, and this affliction may lie in his bowels, as gold in a mine, and be of no use to him; but this bell that tells me of his affliction, digs out, and applies that gold to me: if by this consideration of another's danger, I take mine own into contemplation, and so secure myself, by making my recourse to my God, who is our only security.
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Source:
Donne, John. The Works of John Donne. vol III.
Henry Alford, ed.
London: John W. Parker, 1839. 574-5.

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