QUESTION:
What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?
ANSWER:
This blog.
MY STORY/TESTIMONY/HISTORY:
I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, i.e. I am Mormon (LDS). I am infinitely grateful that I grew up in an active family that, for the most part, taught and tried their best to live the principles embraced by my faith. For most of my childhood I went through the motions of attending church, avoiding swearing, keeping the word of wisdom, etc. It wasn't until I was in high school that I truly discovered the flame of faith inside of me. It wasn't the stereotypical gaining of a testimony that is portrayed in seminary videos, where the person ponder some deep question, reads some scriptures, and kneels in prayer at his/her bedside. A short moment later, the person glances up as a soft light gently falls upon them, a feeling of confidence and confirmation fills their bosom, and then the music cues.
My faith didn't grow in such a picture perfect scene. Mine grew amongst the angst of going through puberty, pimples, growth spurts, bad hair days, and creaking voices. It grew amongst my daily longing to lash out violently at my alarm clock that rang each day at 5:15am, pulling me from the wonderful lull of sleep to go out into the bitter cold, scrape the frost from the windows of my dad's banged up and embarrassingly out-of-date Cadillac, and ride upon cracked seats of ice cold, stinky leather across town to seminary. It grew out of my moderately begrudging attempt to understand the perplexities of the Old Testament, as our seminary teacher tried to bring out as much enthusiasm as could be found in a group of 14-15 year olds. I grew out of the swirling feelings that filled my mind after the first time I kissed a girl, my failed attempts to get a girl to "go out with me", the first time I considered joining a sport, the first time I opened and began reading the Book of Mormon purely out of free choice, alone in my room. It all just clicked. No prayer was required. There was no special fast, no death-defying experience, no heavenly manifestation, no heart-to-heart talk with another person. It grew so gradually that I didn't notice it until it had already begun to blossom.
From that point on, I held on to the principles that I had learned from my faith. I didn't smoke, didn't drink, seldom swore, didn't skip classes, went to seminary of my own volition, worked toward my Eagle scout, and basically sought to minimize the drama that all too often is found in the wake of a teen's life. I was probably one of the easiest teens to raise, and my parents can certainly vouch for that. I was building my life upon an immovable rock, hence the immovable object referred to above.
MY SEXUALITY:
Throughout all of this, and even before, I was already well-aware that I was different from those around me. I can think back to several examples in my life well before puberty where I was experiencing more interest in boys than girls. At first I was inexplicably intrigued by how a guy looked, walked, talked, sang, or played a sport. Then it evolved into immature joking typical of a middle schooler. But by the time I was 13, I was starting to develop crushes. I couldn't help it, I didn't choose it, it just happened, probably the same way it happens for normal boys who start to notice girls.
Obviously I couldn't tell anyone about it, nor do anything with it, so I silenced it. I buried it deep down, locked it in a box, and denied the existence of a key. I figured it was something that would just go away. It was inconvenient, but it didn't cause self-loathing, depression, or anything of the sort. In a way I felt lucky because I felt almost no desire to have a relationship with anyone by the time I turned 15. I may have had some crushes, thought some boy or girls was cute, wanted to be their friend, be seen with them, and have other people think I was "cool" because of it. By the time my junior year came around, I had a part time job, was taking college-prep or college-credit classes, had a completely full schedule, and was starting to get involved in sports. All this was taking place while I was working on my Eagle, being active in church, attending seminary, maintaining a very active social life, and developing a wide circle of friends. I simply didn't have time to pay any attention to my same-sex attraction. And I was all-the-happier for it.
That was about how things went all through my teenage years, leading up to my mission. My mission was simply amazing beyond description. I shudder at the thought of what I would be like now had I not had that experience. It changed me. It helped me develop a closeness with God that, even in the darkest of moments, has been a guiding light that always showed me the way. I love Him more than anyone or anything, and I feel that same love in return. I wouldn't turn my back on that for anything.
LIFE AFTER MY MISSION:
After I returned with honor, I went through the typical rocky period of adjusting to normal life. I struggle to find a job, then when I found one, I struggled to pay for school. My parents had lost most of their retirement money in the wake of the dot-com market crash. I HAD to be self sufficient, and I had to do so quickly. I found a combination of school and work that allowed me to pay for school, pay for my car, keep me productive but generally happy, and still have a social life. Delivering pizza was the best college job I could have asked for.
As I moved on through my twenties, it became harder and harder to keep my same sex attraction in check. It began to creep out from the seems of the box I had locked it in so securely. Clearly denying it or covering it up was beginning to do more harm than I previously anticipated. I began to feel along as those around me started dating, getting married, do "couples only" activities, etc. Any longing I may have ever had to be with a girl was pretty much dead at this point, despite my diligent attempts to live a squeaky clean life.
I was too afraid to tell anyone about it. My bishop had noticed me struggling with something, and tried his best to help. But I just couldn't open up to him. I couldn't open up to anyone. Up to this point, I figured I was probably the only LDS gay person in the entire state of Colorado. I felt alone. I felt like I could be surrounded by hundreds of smiling people, yet inside was still screaming out for someone who could hear me or relate. The Church had no program or useful resources I could find that would help me. So, I turned to Google. I quickly found that I wasn't the only gay LDS person in the world, though I still may have been the only one in Colorado. I found a few groups who had varying general views of homosexuality and the Church. Affirmation was the first I found, but I quickly dismissed it. Not for me. I found the CSU LGBT club, but it was way too visible, and I wasn't ready to come out to the world. I also didn't want to deny my faith. I then found a yahoo group called GayRMs.
"Gay returned missionaries?" I thought to myself. "This must be perfect! Hopefully they will have the support that I have been looking for."
That hope was quickly dashed. I found a few people I knew in the group, none of which were in the state anymore, but they were acquaintances at best. Then I found people sending me e-mails wanting to let them know when I'd be in Utah. They were looking to hook up. I found a guy in his 40s who wanted to date me. I found others that were trying to be faithful, but I felt that they felt too highly of me. Amongst all of it, I made one truly great friend. He and I have stayed in close contact over the years. He lets me vent my frustrations, I let him vent his. We are mutually non-judgmental, but will encourage each other to do what we truly feel is right. I have yet to be able to find that kind of support anywhere else.
Maybe I'm not open enough about my feelings, or maybe my expectations are too high. I tried to discuss it with one of my bishops, but it became quickly apparent that he had no idea what to do. I felt bed for putting him on the spot like that, and perhaps I expected too much. Still, I wish I hadn't talked about it with him because things just felt awkward and uncomfortable between us from there on.
WHERE I AM NOW:
So, where does this leave me now? This leaves me, still rooted on the immovable object that is my faith. However, I can feel the unstoppable force of my feelings, emotions, and long-term need for companionship rapidly coming my way as an unstoppable force. The two haven't collided yet, and I don't know what will happen when they do, but that time is quickly approaching.
I try my best to keep my standards, to foster a closeness with Heavenly Father. He's very real and I know that personally. I know He knows what I am going through, what I am feeling, and how frustrating it is. The biggest problem for me is that, as a member of the LDS faith, I feel like I am being given completely conflicting commandments. "It is not right for a man to be alone" versus "marriage is only between a man and a woman" is certainly one case. Then in the 70s there was the push for gay LDS people to get married as a "cure" for their same gender attraction. There are plenty of examples of families that broke up years later, and now they don't advice that gay members marry someone as a cure. That seems better, in my opinion, because marriage is hard enough as it is, and children need as strong and loving of a home as they can get.
My current frustrations are currently hitting their peak. The Church in general has been extremely vocal recently in their opposition to same sex marriage, unions, or even recognizing couples and allowing them basic rights. I fully support the right of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to make a stand. I can respect that. I don't agree with it, but that's my personal political opinion. However, to make such a strong stand while leaving its own members who have same sex attractions without any kind of help, support system, or answers is heart-wrenching at best. It completely fails the "What would Jesus Do?" test. The reality is that there are certain, realistic, fundamental needs and answers that aren't being answered or addressed. If leaders of the church are so certain that homosexuality can be "cured" or at least "controlled", why can't they at least come up with some kind of support program that? When a natural disaster strikes, the LDS church is almost always one of the first organizations to send aid. They have programs to help people whose marriages are on the rocks, to help those who have addictions, to help those who have been abused. When a person joins the church, they are welcomed with open arms of full fellowship. But for faithful members who struggle with the agony, pain, and frustration that accompanies denying oneself companionship and intimacy, there is silence at best, if not judgment, homophobia, and ostracizing.
I take comfort in prayers that I have had answered for myself. I have felt Heavenly Father's love, care, and concern, and I know He knows what I am going through. I know He knows how hard this is. He is my rock, He is my strength. I just wish I could feel that kind of love and when I am at church, but I don't. It wasn't always that way, but it is right now, and that's the frustrating part. What has changed?
