...back to anonymity...

Well, my mom told my dad last night, and then he came out and had a big conversation with me. What you have to know about my dad is that he's not exactly...stable... If I publicly came out online in a way he knew about, it might be a breaking point for him. He basically made it very clear that I'm choosing this, and that if I convinced him otherwise, it meant that the Church wasn't true, his life is a lie, and he may as well kill himself. So, I need to delete references on here to my name. Oh well. His mental health is more important.

After talking with him, I cried for quite awhile. But it was the most peaceful crying I've ever experienced. I'm okay. I really am. I'm at peace with God and with my life. And I'm still optimistic. It's nice to let out all the pent up emotion, though.

Making Sense of the Senseless

A little over a year ago, on December 7, 2011, I was flying home from my mission in Brisbane, Australia. I was so excited to go home and to apply what I had learned on my mission: time management, goal setting, obedience, etc. I knew that I would be happy. I had a friend that had told me she liked me. I was sure we would date, and because we were such good friends, we would probably get married. I was excited for my future.

It didn't take long for reality to come careening in. My first date with my friend didn't last longer than a movie. My projected future was falling apart as I realized I didn't only not have feelings for her, but for any girls at all. I felt distant from God even though I was doing everything I was supposed to. I just didn't know what to do. Life took me in directions I wasn't planning: I decided to get a job in California on a whim, and that led to getting a job in China later in the summer. But throughout it all, the questions were still burning in my mind. And I feel like throughout the whole year, I fluctuated from feeling a constant slight dissonance in the back of my mind to full out discord at the forefront of my heart. And I never really felt at peace or happy with where my life was going.

Those feelings reached an apex when I was in Europe in October. I remember one moment close to the end of my trip when I was thinking about life after the semester ended. I was originally planning on going to Europe closer to graduation, and it was what I had really been looking forward to in college. That was soon to be over. My mission was done with. I had no prospects of relationships with girls, not only in the near future, but ever. I felt only bleakness when I thought about Church. I had no idea what to do, and in that moment I had the heart-sinking realization that everything I had ever looked forward to in my life had already passed, and I was left to deal with that knot of emotion still so deeply entrenched in my heart.

Somewhere in the last seven weeks since getting back from Europe, I found peace. I think it began in the second week from getting back when I first read "Self-Reliance" by Ralph Waldo Emerson. I highly recommend it to everyone. Emerson's main thesis is that we need to be emotionally self reliant and look for truth and integrity within ourselves first before turning to sources outside of ourselves. While I was in Europe, I was extremely depressed. It felt like the days were dragging by slowly, each one taking with it a part of me as it left, draining my emotional energy and my ability to really care about anything.

And I think that one of the most difficult parts of the entire process was making sense of the senseless reality I was facing. I had been taught my whole life that if I did this and that, I would be happy. On my mission I taught the same principles to people; they changed some peoples' lives, and didn't even slightly stir the hearts of others. Our mission president taught us that "true doctrine changes everything." Well it didn't seem to be changing me. It only seemed to be sending me down the lonely rabbit hole of sexual anorexia and the resultant psychological difficulties. It made no sense. I had felt the spirit. I had felt God. Why was none of this clicking?

For me, I finally began to make sense of it when I read this passage from the teachings of the Buddha:

Do not believe anything:
just because it has been handed down for many generations,
just because it is spoken and rumored by many,
just because it is found written in religious books,
just on the authority of your teachers and elders.
Only accept what passes the test
By proving useful and beneficial in your life.

Once a the student of a Zen Buddhist Master asked him what he should do if he met the Buddha walking down the road. The Master replied "kill him."

I don't think he really meant to physically impale him, but more in the vein of Nietzsche when he said "kill your heroes." What the Master was trying to teach his student was that the only true Buddha is within. "Buddha" really just means "enlightened one" or "awakened one." And so when the buddhist teachers say "the Buddha nature is within," what they mean is that the only power that can make sense of the senseless is inside of us. For me, that means the power of self-determination; to realize that I can act for myself and not be acted upon.

One of the paradoxes of Mormonism is that it teaches you to follow your heart only when your heart tells you that what it teaches is true, and then tells you that your heart is lying to you if it says anything else. Positive emotions that confirm what the prophets say are labeled as the Holy Spirit, while positive emotions in any other direction are deviant. I believe that true integrity is found in being true to your own conscience above everything else. And I've found that in the last seven weeks as I've truly placed myself in the driver's seat of my own life, I've found peace and happiness beyond what I've experienced before. Instead of just accepting things as true because people say them, I apply that criterion: to only accept what proves useful and beneficial to my life.

"Hell, in my opinion, is never finding your true self and never living your own life or knowing who you are."
-John Bradshaw

A Fate Worse Than Death

I was planning on writing today about the reasons that I love the Church and the good that I see in it, because I've been kind of negative towards the Church in my last two posts. A conversation I had last night, however, changed my mind. I'm going to save that post for another time. In the mean time, I'm going to discuss what I believe to be one of the most dangerous concepts of Mormonism.

So I was having a conversation last night with two good friends from high school. We were discussing political belief, which led naturally into the territory of homosexuality and the Church. After I brought up the pain that homosexuals experience in the Church and talked about the frequency of suicide, instead of responding with empathy for their plight, one of my friends decided to respond by saying that he believed there were some fates that were worse than death; that it is better to die clean than to live unclean. This concept isn't just something he came up with: it's been taught by prophets and apostles for quite awhile.

"Your virtue is worth more than your life. Please, young folks, preserve your virtue even if you loose your lives."
-David O. McKay

"There is no true Latter-day Saint who would not rather bury a son or daughter than to have him or her lose his or her chastity -- realizing that chastity is of more value than anything else in all the world."
-Heber J. Grant

"Better dead clean, than alive unclean. Many is the faithful Latter-day Saint parent who has sent a on or daughter on a mission or otherwise out into the world with the direction, 'I would rather have you come back home in a pine pox with your virtue than return alive without it.'"
-Bruce R. McConkie

(I wonder which has torn more families apart: sentiments like that in the above quote, or proponents of gay marriage...)

"May I remind you of what our youth repeated some years ago as a slogan in the MIA... How glorious and near to the angels is youth that is clean. This youth has joy unspeakable here and eternal happiness hereafter. Sexual purity is youth's most precious possession. It is the foundation of all righteousness. Better dead clean, than alive unclean."
-Harold B. Lee

I feel that the wrongful nature of these teachings is self-evident. But just in case it's not, let's discuss the consequences.

I feel like I talk about the suicides of gay Mormons almost too frequently. I don't mean to use such traumatic, difficult, and painful events merely as evidence in an argument. And so when I talk about them and other suicides that occur, I want it to be known that I am not using them as a means to an end. My end is not to prove that Church leaders are wrong. My end is to uphold the sanctity and dignity of human life--of their lives. I've mentioned suicides frequently, and I don't just want it to become another talking point--but their lives are the reasons that this teaching is wrong.

As I mentioned in a previous post, in 1982, Kip Eliason committed suicide because he couldn't stop masturbating and his bishop taught that if he was unworthy. It was better to die than to live unworthily, and so Kip took his own life.

In 2003, Deseret News published a study that showed 90% of rapes in Provo, Utah go unreported. Spencer W. Kimball taught that "it is better to die in defending one's virtue than to live having lost it without a struggle." It's because of such teachings that BYU Police Officer Arnie Lemmon explained the startling statistic this way: "most Provo residence are religious and have a tendency to stigmatize discussion of sexual assault and sometimes to demonize the survivor." He said that one rape victim told him "I should have died before I let him do that to me." Another rape victim wrote "I am a perversion to the saints of the church" and said that she wished she were dead (For more information, click here).

Because of examples such as these, I find the "fate worse than death" mentality not simply wrong, but dangerous and destructive. It is disrespectful not only to the people whose lives are at stake because of the teaching, but to their families, friends, and others who love them and value their life. I do not believe that God would rather someone die than masturbate. I do not believe that God would rather someone die than participate in a homosexual relationship. God created us to live, and not only to live, but to live gloriously: to create happiness. Men are that they might have joy, and I find only shame and misery in the belief that it is better to die clean than to live unclean.

And that really begs the ultimate question of what cleanliness even is. I posit that the individual who masturbates at night and loves and serves his neighbor during the day is more clean than the person who has never masturbated, but goes around gossiping, spreading rumors, and refusing to associate with other people because they are less righteous than themselves. True cleanliness is found in integrity to one's own conscience and in displaying true love for others, not conforming to the rules of an institution.

People can squabble and argue all day about which doctrines come from God and which from man. But most everyone will agree that life itself is a gift from God. Let's do what we can to protect it and abandon this dangerous mentality.

"I would rather be whole than be good."
-Carl Jung

Healing the Shame that Binds Us

When I was about sixteen or seventeen, I attended an annual Stake camp for young men preparing for their missions. The whole camp was designed to be like a mission-- you get a companion, you prepare and teach lessons, etc. I was one of two music directors for the camp--the other music director was my companion. I had known him in school for quite a few years, and I found him really attractive. Throughout the camp, I just got so frustrated with myself for not being able to stop thinking about his body. Ironically, the more I wanted to stop thinking about it, the less able I seemed to be.

My deepest secret of "struggling with same gender attraction" led me to the depths of shame. At one of my most painful moments, I wrote this poem:

Mirror, mirror on my wall

Make me thin and make me tall

For I don’t want to look within

To find what makes me feel so small

Wretched man, oh wretched man—

That I was, and that I am.

Consumed of sin and base desire

Of lust and greed, of vexing ire.

Mirror, mirror on my wall

Who’s the fairest one of all?

I want to know his name and face

To feel and feed my deep disgrace

Secret, secret untold pain

Not a soul can know its reign

If they knew my wretched truth,

I fear my life would be in vain.

Cursed mirror on my wall,

You never listened to my call

And when I gazed into your depths

I saw myself, my scars and all.

Lately I've been reading a great book by John Bradshaw called "Healing the Shame that Binds Us." It's about how we are conditioned to feel shame for certain emotions, and the more we feel it, the more we internalize it as a part of our identity (Bradshaw distinguishes between two types of shame--healthy shame and "toxic" shame). As this happens, we believe that we are fundamentally flawed; we believe that there is something wrong with us. That's exactly how I felt at the camp: that there was something wrong with me, and I felt utterly and completely ashamed. I felt like my very nature was wretched. Toxic shame destroys our sense of self, because "as your feelings, needs, and drives are bound by toxic shame, more and more of you is alienated... [and] when one suffers from alienation, it means that one experiences parts of ones self as alien." As you feel contempt for yourself, it makes it so that you cannot share yourself fully with others, and so you feel completely and utterly alone.

It's so relieving to no longer feel ashamed. After accepting that I am attracted to men, and that it's okay, I feel at peace. And I no longer feel guilty for feelings I cannot control. I no longer feel like life is in vain. One thing that I take issue with Church culture is the amount of shaming that takes place. In the 1980s, an LDS Youth named Kip Eliason committed suicide; he felt like he was unworthy to live because he couldn't stop masturbating and was taught by his bishop and others that it was morally wrong. For years in MIA, young men and women would repeat the slogan "it is better to die clean than to live unclean." I think these attitudes are harmful, and I also think that they are changing, which makes me happy.

I hope that each of us can be healed of the shame that binds us. And I don't mean that we can all just do whatever we want whenever we want and feel no guilt--but that we can be guided by the law of love and realize the depth of God's love for each of us. There's nothing fundamentally wrong with who we are.

God created each of us to be something incredible.

"Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, are more than they."

-Alfred, Lord Tennyson, from "In Memorium"

Mormons and Gays: a poorly executed step in the right direction

Like many others, in the days following the Church's release of its new website dealing with same-sex attraction, I received a few different emails and texts from well-meaning friends and family members advising that I take a look. I had already read through it by the time most of them contacted me, but I was grateful for their concern nonetheless. After reading through it, for the first time in my life, I really wanted to just leave the Church. That shocked me a little bit, but it made me reconsider a lot of things. And just in case your wondering, I'm staying for now.

The website, I think, was a poorly executed step in the right direction. Overwhelmingly, the message that was being portrayed was one of love. Because many families still react poorly to family members coming out, I think that this was a great message to encourage. And there was the wonderful step of admitting once and for all that "attraction to those of the same sex... should not be viewed as a disease or illness. We must not judge anyone for the feelings they experience." I was disappointed, however, that the ways the referred to homosexuals, as "individuals with same-sex attraction", still seemed to assume that gay people are experiencing a problem. In reality, the adage that no one should be judged for the feelings they experience is only taken so far. If someone feels that they are happier in a same-sex relationship than living a celibate, albeit faithful lifestyle, then they are living "contrary to the laws of God."

It interests me that the opening paragraphs of the website make it clear that the contents "reflect the sentiments and teachings of the highest church authorities..." instead of making an appeal to the will of God. I agree wholeheartedly--everything within reflects the sentiments of the Church's highest authorities. Where I begin to question is that the "highest authorities" of the Church have been wrong in the past, a stark example being with interracial marriage. Brigham Young taught that if "they [black and white people] mingle seed, it is death to all." Brigham Young further taught that if the Church ever allowed interracial marriage, the priesthood would be taken away from the Church, and that spilling the blood of any who practiced interracial marriage was the only way to gain forgiveness of that sin. Later, during the Civil Rights movement, Church leaders such as J. Reuben Clark and Mark E. Peterson taught that the movement had a singular agenda: that black people wanted absorption into the white race. They taught that this was to be avoided, for, as Mark E. Peterson pointed out (specifically talking about desegregation), "first we pity, then endure, then embrace." Currently, we have embraced interracial marriage (my aunt and her African-American husband were sealed in the temple), and the priesthood seems to still be with us. Church authorities at the time, therefore, were wrong. (Interestingly, one of their reasons for saying that it would lead to the destruction of the human race was the false belief that interracial children could not reproduce. For more information, click here).

I am very grateful for the prophets and apostles, and especially for their testimonies of Christ, but they have been wrong before. And personally, I think they're wrong again. What especially bothers me isn't just their position currently about homosexuality, but the facade they portray of the consistency of Church doctrine over time. On the website, Dallin H. Oaks says that "...the doctrine of the church, that sexual activity should occur between a man and a woman that are married, has not changed and is not changing" (emphasis added). The problem, is that it has changed. It changed in the early days of the church from monogamy to polygamy (and in some cases, polyandry). It changed in 1847 to disallow interracial marriage (before which there were instances of it within the Church). Brigham Young stood before the Utah legislature in 1852 to encourage them to pass a law that not only forbid all sexual activity between persons of two different ethnicities, but also to legalize slavery in the state of Utah (because it was the natural order of things that God had intended for mankind). The law passed. The doctrine again changed following the Manifesto when polygamy was abandoned. It changed again in 1978 when blacks were allowed the priesthood, and interracial marriage was once again allowed. Church Doctrine on nearly all subjects has changed significantly over time.

The fact that apostles and prophets are wrong on some issues does not, to me, diminish their role as special witnesses of Christ. Joseph Smith often reminded the saints that he was not infallible, but often made mistakes and that they should establish their own relationships with God to test the truth of what he taught. A large problem in the modern Church, I think, is that we often put our trust too much in the highest authorities of the Church, and don't question enough whether or not what they are teaching us is actually from God. We seem to think that to "follow the prophet" is the great commandment, instead of, as Christ taught, "to love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, might, mind and strength... and to love thy neighbor as thyself."

Another teaching with which I take issue comes from Jeffery R. Holland and continues in the "God loveth His children" pamphlet, that "you serve yourself poorly when you identify yourself primarily with your sexual feelings." While it is true that sexual identity is far from the only component in anyone's identity, it is also an extremely important one. In fact, the Church teaches that sexuality is a fundamentally important part not only of life, but of the eternities, and thus its emphasis on marriage. It appears that "it is not good for man to be alone" unless he happens to be gay. When one marries and has a family, their family become core parts of their identity, codified in the structure of the heterosexual family. Heterosexuality, according to Church teachings, is not only an important part of ones identity, but core to the very purpose of life. It is unfair (and I believe abusive) to say that the sexual identity of the majority is key to the purpose of life, while the identity of the minority should not even be viewed as a part of their identity (or at least a minor, ignored one).

The new website is a step in the right direction, because "God is love," and its message is generally one of love. But it is poorly executed in that it rhetorically does not live up to parts of its own message, and in that it establishes a false understanding of Church doctrine over time, placing too much emphasis on the authority of man and not enough on the authority of God (who has, to my knowledge, never explicitly revealed His will on the subject)(though, research shows that hundreds of gay Mormons have had spiritual experiences affirming their sexual orientation--including me).

When reading through this website and other materials that the Church has produced, I often find myself asking this question: how much do I value life? I'm sure most everyone who reads this blog is familiar with the suicide statistics. David Phan added his own to the long list of names of gay people in Utah and other areas influenced by Church culture who have lost their will to live due to homophobia and abuse just a few weeks ago. My heart aches for him and for the others whose pain was so great that they choose death. And my heart goes out to anyone now experiencing the depth of loneliness and shame that seems to be ubiquitous among those who "struggle with same-sex attraction" in the Church.

It is because I value life that I have chosen not to be silent on this subject. I do believe that the Church's current policies and practices concerning homosexuality and the culture within Mormondom are largely mentally, emotionally, and sexually abusive to believing homosexuals. No one should have to go through life sincerely believing that something so inherent and innate to their being makes them less than anyone else. All is not well in Zion.

Happy Les Miserables Day!!!

Is it bad that I was more excited for Les Miserables than for Christmas itself? Ha ha. But really, I am so excited. We're going at 10 pm... and I can hardly wait.

But Christmas has been really great! I had a wonderful conversation with my Mom, and she seems much more accepting and wanting to understand than she ever has before. We talked for along time about my frustrations with the Church, and she really understood... which, to be honest, was not something I was expecting. It's always great when people are more understanding than you think they will be. And I've found that they usually are. Perhaps it's just the irrational optimist in me, but I can't shake the feeling that everything's going to work out just fine.

I hope that everyone had a very Merry Christmas! I'm a little bit cynical of the history of the holiday and far from criticizing the materialism associated with this time of year, I rejoice in it. What better reason to stimulate the economy than getting nice gifts for each other? But I also love remembering Jesus. I love remembering that God gave His only begotten son, not to condemn the world, but to save us.

And this is one of the many things I love about Christ:

Christ acted, and was not acted upon. Christ influenced, but never gave in to the influences of those around Him. He knew His relationship with His Father, and He spoke boldly. While the scribes and the pharisees would always appeal to the authority of other rabbis and their own interpretations of scripture, Christ would say "verily, verily I say unto you." The truth is most powerful when it comes from within; it has the most influence when it arises from our individual relationships with the Father. And He didn't give us the spirit of fear, but of hope. Because "whosoever believeth in God might with a surety hope for a better world..." So let's keep hoping and never give up!

“My life is not an apology, but a life. It is for itself and not for a spectacle. I much prefer that it should be of a lower strain, so it be genuine and equal, than that it should be glittering and unsteady.” 
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

Of Muggles and Mudbloods

While my friends and family were busy being disgusted and frustrated with J.K. Rowling for pushing Dumbledore out of the closet, I was silenty grateful. At the time I was still very ashamed of my attractions for men, and though I felt very guilty for how appealing Dumbledore and Grindelwald's relationship was to me, it felt relieving to have a character I trusted (okay, perhaps fictional characters become a bit too real to me at times) be the same as me. When the topic came up in conversations, I would always argue that far from ruining the character, the knowledge of Dumbledore's sexuality added greatly to his depth. People were often surprised by me, and I went to great lengths to hide my own sexuality and would condemn homosexuality, but point out that Dumbledore never acted on his feelings.

I'm glad those days are over. I love what Marry Griffith, mother of Bobby, a gay man who committed suicide, once said, "I would rather be branded a heretic while helping a child of God out of the gutters of this world, where the church and I have thrown them, than to pass by on the other side muttering under our breath, 'the wages of win are death.'" I no longer believe that LGBT people who have same sex partners are awful, bad people living in sin. As I've ceased muttering of sin and death, I've been able to see the good in these relationships. I recently met with my cousin and his fiancée, another man, and talked with them about their relationship. As my cousin's partner described the pain he had been through in his life and how being with my cousin was the first time he had ever felt loved and had ever been truly happy, tears came to my eyes and I felt that familiar feeling of God in my heart, and I felt deeply that He was here, too, in their supposedly sinful relationship.

I had another moment of tears two days ago, albeit a significantly more silly one. I was watching part one of the Deathly Hallows movie with my family, and there was a part where you see a pamphlet describing the dangers about Mudbloods and the threat they posed to the wizarding world. My thoughts returned to the abolition movement, and the supposed dangers that abolishing slavery posed to the world. And to the women's suffrage movement, and the arguments that their right to vote would put society in danger. And then to the civil rights movement, and how LDS leaders like Mark E. Peterson taught that it was dangerous because ending segregation could lead to an increase of inter racial marriage, which posed a danger to society. And how Ezra Taft Benson decried the dangers of the civil rights movement as part of a communist movement in America. And I remembered how from Hitler and the holocaust to George Q Cannon positing that all homosexuals should be destroyed as to rid the world of their contagion in a generation, justifications of dehumanization and all of the world's worst atrocities have been justified in fear and promulgated in arguments of fictitious harms presented to society because of one group or another. One of the biggest arguments against gay marriage is that same argument. It will destroy the family, and lead to the crumbling of society. It's still a poor argument.

And so yes, I cried over Muggles and Mudbloods.

I'm happy J.K. Rowling brought Dumbledore out of the closet. It was brave of her, and it helped me at the time. I'm at home for Christmas, and I know that I need to come out to my dad soon. I don't know if it will be while I'm here. I've thought of writing a letter instead, because it would be much easier. But I'm grateful that I'm no longer ashamed. That makes a big difference.

(Side note: I don't mean to sound too negative about the church's past, and I want to clarify that while I find our history as a people and as a church extremely important to my own understanding of which parts of the doctrine to accept, I still love the church and find much divinity in its teachings.)

"That which God hath deemed natural..."

This week I read two incredible books-- "Goodbye, I Love You," and "No More Goodbyes," both by Carol Lynn Pearson. To anyone who hasn't read them yet, I highly recommend them. I just finished "Goodbye, I Love You" this morning, and I was sobbing. I had to put the book down and just let myself cry. It was a very emotional experience.

It's been awhile since I last posted, and during that time I've kept reading and kept researching. I actually met with John Dehlin, founder of Mormon Stories, and talked with him about the research he's doing right now for his PhD on LGBT people within the Mormon community. I've done a lot of pondering and thinking, and I feel like I've reached a conclusion as to where I stand on the issue as a whole. I still have no idea where my life will take me, but I feel more firmly rooted and more at peace than I have in a long, long time. I recognize that my feelings and opinions will still change over time, but I feel like I've finally moved out of the "freak out" stage of just beginning to ask questions.

One moment that really stood out to me in "No More Goodbyes" was when Carol Lynn Pearson talks about a song she wrote for the Primary Children's Songbook. I remember vividly singing "I'll Walk With You" when I was in primary, myself. I remember looking at the picture next to the song of the little girl in a wheelchair and thinking, "no matter what, I'm going to try to love everyone. I will walk and talk with them, even if they're different." That was one of the first times I felt the Spirit and the love of God. It was a powerful experience. And so when I read that sister Pearson wrote that song about gay people in the church,  it was doubly as powerful. I almost started crying.

There is a depth of homophobia that still exists in the Church; if not in its doctrine, then definitely in its culture and practices. There have been far too many suicides and far too many marriages and families destroyed because of ignorance and suffering. I have had dark moments in my life. I remember moments when I believed that I was an abomination for what I was feeling-- and I don't want people to have to feel that way. I'm so grateful that I don't anymore. I'm grateful that God has reaffirmed to me that He loves and accepts me exactly as I am, and that He made me this way for a reason. And so this is where I stand-- against ignorance and in favor of education and empathy. I want more than anything to be there for those who are suffering. I want to live my life as an advocate and resource for people who are ready to give up.

Tonight I watched the movie "Lincoln" for the first time. It was incredible. I can't wait to see it again. There was a moment when a debate is raging in Congress over the passing of the 13th amendment and abolition of slavery when one of the anti-abolition congressmen refers to slavery as "that which God hath deemed natural" and passionately defends the institution, saying it would be an affront to God to end it. My heart started racing, and I saw the connection immediately. As I watched the rest of the movie, I was impressed deeply by the activists, like Thadeus Stevens, who lived passionately and vocally in favor of interracial equality. And I felt deeply that I wanted to follow in their footsteps. Because the conclusion that I have come to is that the world as God intends it to be is a world of unconditional love. And I intend on doing my part to make it that way. Our society has progressed incredibly since the days of Lincoln, but we still have so far to go, and especially when it comes to understanding homosexuality.

And so this is my plan:

I have come out to almost every one that matters to me. I've talked with all of my close friends. Over Thanksgiving I came out to three of my sisters. Last week I came out to another friend, and then just the other night to a roommate. Really the only people left that I want to talk to about it in person are my dad, my younger brother and sister, and the rest of my roommates. And I can do that. After I do, I intend on starting a new blog under my real identity, and sharing my posts on Facebook. I've been annoyed in the past when people have just bluntly come out to the world on Facebook, because I do feel like it's something deeply personal. But lately as I've prayed and pondered, I've felt like it's the right choice for me. Because ultimately, I want to make a difference. I believe that my community and my friends will respond positively, and good will come of it.

But I'm not quite sure on the timeline. I know I need to wait for the right moment to tell my dad. I don't know when that moment will be. So this could happen in a few days, a few weeks, or a few months. But I feel very strongly like it needs to happen. And I'm excited.

Which is worse?

Today I've been thinking about which would be more difficult for my friends and family, the fact that I am gay, or if I left the church. They're so impossibly intertwined that I don't think it makes a fair question, but it's interesting to analyze the ins and outs of it.

Ultimately, the reasons it would be difficult for anyone to accept homosexuality are twofold: theological and cultural. I think that the cultural aspect is the root, and the more research I do, the more the theology seems to be a mere codification of the culture. But the theological aspect attaches with it the hopes of salvation. Hanging over all of our heads are the questions of how to be happy in this life, and what will happen to us in the next. Theology gives us something to grasp on to- an explanation for happiness and salvation both here and there. Culture, on the other hand, is the developed customs, norms, expectations, and obligations that people have for interaction with one another and utilize to make sense of social interaction. It makes sense to codify culture within the context of theology in order to add impetus and moral authority to social norms.

And so homosexuality, it seems to me, is in violation of first a culture, and secondly its theological codification. Now in LDS culture, the religion and culture are so unified that to leave one is to leave the other. (Note that I'm analyzing this exterior to the question of revelation and prophets)

So which aspect would be harder for friends and family? That I'm gay, or to leave the church? While being gay would be difficult, I think that leaving the church would be the hardest, because the church represents our culture- the way we interact with each other and understand our lives. To leave it would feel to them like a rejection of my relationships with them. A rejection of everything that binds us together. It symbolizes, to them, an abandonment of the possibility of happiness in this life and togetherness in the life to come. So it would be very difficult. Being gay just adds a little extra edge to it.

I'm definitely not saying I will leave the church- just analyzing what would happen if I did.

One reason that being a gay Mormon is difficult for me is that it causes me to question my identity on every level. I have to think and rethink my entire concept of the world and of God. It's a good thing I have a life time to figure this all out :)

So today I gave a talk in church. It was on missionary work, and as I was preparing it, all I could think of were my frustrations with the church. I imagined talking about love and using that as a vehicle to express my annoyances. When I got there and was sitting on the stand, I felt really humbled. Looking out at everyone smiling, I realized just how great they all were. I thought to myself, these are not hateful people. I gave my talk, a little differently than I had planned, and I felt the spirit more than I have in a long time.

Back and forth, back and forth. That seems to be all I feel these days, and will probably continue that way until I make a decision.

As I was driving home from giving my talk, which was in my family's stake, I imagined coming out to my roommates and friends, and I felt at peace about it. I'm way too scared to do it yet, and I'm not even sure if it's anything close to the right decision, but it seems to be a thought experiment with positive results.

I've always considered the thought of celibacy for life to be rather depressing. But today I was considering the implications, and realized just how freeing it is to release yourself from the obligation to marry. The possibilities are endless. I could do anything, go anywhere. Oh, then there's the part of doing it all alone...maybe not as freeing as it seems at first thought.

No matter how attractive men might be to me, the thought of being in a relationship with a man never seems completely satisfying. Even repulsive. The thought of a relationship with a woman sounds great. Until I look at one again...and then feel absolutely nothing.

Wanting what I don't desire. It's so confusing and complicated. I want what I don't want but I don't want what I want.

So frustrating.

I feel like there are things that I actually believe, but that they get mixed up in the foray of things I try to believe. In my heart, what feels true is this: that it doesn't matter what gender two people have; if they are in love, it is an inherently good thing. But I've been taught my entire life that homosexuality is an awful, pernicious, and evil thing. It has always been something to be ashamed of. It has always been something that must be kept hidden. And for that reason, it has been both defining and demolishing.

I guess that's why, when I tell people, I expect it to shatter their worlds', too. I expect it to utterly change the way they perceive and interact with me. And that's why I'm so scared of telling people.

But I had an interesting experience a few weeks ago. I was talking to a friend I came out to in high school. We hadn't actually talked about me being gay in a long time, and I mentioned it. She looked surprised, and then said that she had forgotten. I was shocked. How could she forget? Didn't it completely change me in her eyes?

No, it didn't. I was still the exact same person. No matter what we do, we cannot escape ourselves. Though I try to compartmentalize myself, and lock one piece deep within a closet, it's still a part of me, and so it coming out doesn't change who I am in the least. I don't think I give people enough of a chance--I really just assume that they'll reject me. Most people I've talked to have been kind and supportive, and really haven't changed at all their attitudes or mannerisms towards me.

The more research I do into homosexuality and Church history, the more I think the Church is deeply mistaken in its policies and procedures. Today I was reading an etiology of homosexuality according to Church Leaders compiled by Connell O'Donovan, and there was one line that really stood out. In the early 1960s there was a general authority serving as president of BYU who gave a talk in which he asked all homosexuals at BYU to promptly leave because they didn't want the other students "contaminated by your presence." When I read that, my heart started beating. Contaminated? Was that all homosexuals were to him? Contaminants? No wonder there were a host of suicides in that era by homosexuals who couldn't reconcile their faith and their sexuality.

If "by their fruits ye shall know them," then which do I count as their fruits? The Church has been an incredibly positive influence on my family. Do I count those fruits? Or do I count the suicides? The Book of Mormon teaches that all good things come from God and all evil things from the devil. Why is it that my feelings for men feel so right and good, and the actions of the Church seem so unholy?

I don't know the answer. But the longer I live, the more I believe that these questions are perhaps not meant to be answered. I don't want to live an apology--I want to live a life. I believe that the purpose of life is to become something. I need to follow my own heart, my own conscience, and my own logic. I don't want to be the product of an organization or a culture--but the product of my own views on morality.

And my morality is thus: that all good things lead us to love each other unconditionally. The deepest morality I can conceive of is that of compassionate, understanding, and empathy. Even as I say that, my brain immediately thinks of counterarguments. But that really is my deepest conviction. And I know this: my experience thus far in life with homosexuality has enabled me to recognize pain in others, and to empathize with it. It has instilled in me the deep desire to help everyone who struggles. And for that, it is good. I still don't know what I'm going to choose in life--whether I'll come fully out of the closet and pursue a relationship with a man, or find a woman that I actually fall in love with; stay in the church or leave the church-- but I know this: I will try my hardest to be filled with compassion. I will try to be a moral being.

Coming out to myself

One day in the MTC, I was sitting on a chair outside of my dorm room. When the door of the room next to me opened, I glanced over and was greeted by the sight of a rather attractive Elder in my district completely naked, fixing his hair in the mirror (why someone cares about their hair when they're not even clothed, I have yet to understand). I hesitated before looking away, but then promptly returned to my room to sulk in the misery of my predicament. I felt completely ashamed and utterly alone.

In my first area, I made a decision. I figured that the reason it was so hard for me was because I had made it a secret. I decided that if I gave my secret away to God, everything would be okay, and so I wrote this poem to signify this new decision:

In years gone by I've held you here,
Secret of my heart,
But now at last in freedom's breath
From thee I will depart
And flying free through open skies
Where mercy's arms extend
I'll sing of my Redeemer's love
From now until the end

And I felt that. For most of my mission, my feelings of attraction for men were diminished, but they never left completely, and at moments, I was overwhelmed by them. At that point in time, I had accepted that I "struggled" with same sex attraction, but I could never admit, even to myself, of actually having feelings for any specific person. In retrospect, however, I definitely had a few crushes on some of the Elders in my districts. Neve my companions, though.

About nine months into my mission, one of my best friends from high school, who was writing me weekly, admitted to liking me...a lot (to be fair, it was because I insisted on her telling me the object of a love poem she had once written and shared with me). That letter made me so happy. I read it over and over throughout my mission. It became the symbol of my life-long hope that I could someday fall in love with a girl and live the Mormon dream. I guess I should say, too, that I have never had a girlfriend or kissed, cuddled, or held hands (in any way that I count, at least). Being alarmingly unattracted to girls, I blamed my lack of feelings on my own apparent unatractiveness and convinced myself that no girl could ever like me. My friend's letter was a ray of heterosexual hope in my homosexual nightmare.

I wrote her back and told her that I was interested in her, too, and that we would see what happened when I got home.

In the weeks and months after getting back, I realized that the "secret of my heart" was anything but "flying free." It was right there inside of me where it had been all along.

I went on one date with my friend. One. It didn't even last the whole night. As the semester progressed and I began, against my will, to develop feelings for a guy in one of my classes, I realized that I would have to be honest with her, and tell her about my lack of feelings.

It was hard for me, and mostly for her. I felt like a liar and a jerk.

But for the first time, I felt myself acknowledging my feelings for another man- not just feelings of sexual attraction, but intellectual and emotional attraction as well. The feelings were powerful, an dwarfed any feigns of interest I had in my friend. Being honest with her was difficult, but an important step for me.

As time went on, I found my feelings for this guy in my class deepening, and with them, my feelings of dissonance. I wrote this poem to express the paradox I found myself in:

The simple, sickly sweet surprise
I find when looking in your eyes
Supplies a satisfaction
That only e'er dissatisfies

I never want to see the day
When thoughts of you are gone away
But every morning when I wake
I pray that they'll put at bay

Sordidly seducing me
These images I ever see
Dancing through my crowded mind
Of me with you, and you with me

I know not which I want to seek,
To be free, or to be meek
Wanting what I don't desire,
I yearn for both, yet both are bleak


And that's where I found myself when I left for my trip to China. I was finally acknowledging my feelings for a man, and giving up on ballooning my feelings for girls into something more than they were. But with this acknowledgment came a new depth of pain, which resulted in the conversation with another friend in Qingdao, which I mentioned in my first post.

And that's the gist of the journey I took in coming out to myself. I left on my mission in denial, and here I am now with a truth I can't make sense of. Not yet, anyway. Writing this all out is helpful, though.

Why I Keep Going

So far in my very short blogging career I've written a lot about pain and frustration. I've explored the depths of my cognitive dissonance. I've expressed deep doubts about my faith. But I haven't talked much about why it's all worth it to me. Tonight I want to talk about why I keep going.

There was one morning in high school when, as I was driving to school, I was pondering about God and His love. I thought about all of my friends and about my family, and as I got out of my car and began walking to class, I remember looking up at the deep blue of the sky and feeling a deep, real sense of peace. It was an incredible sense of joy. For a moment, I felt lost in God. And it was blissful.

I questioned a lot in middle school and high school. My biggest question was, if God loved me, why did I have so much pain? Why was I so bad? Why couldn't I just be an attractive guy who was attracted to girls? And I did get an answer. It came slowly, piece by piece, but over time it dawned on me that God was drawing me closer to Him through this pain. God is love, and my pain inspired within me an empathy for others, and thus helped me to become more like Him. And it allowed me to find and feel His love for me. I realized that I could have moments of pure joy like the one I described only because of my pain. I felt the depth of the atonement of Christ. I really felt that He became one with me in that act.

In late September I took the picture that's at the top of my blog. I was standing on top of the Swiss alps looking down at lake Geneva. It was another expansive, joyful moment for me. And it reminded me just how big God is and how little I am. It was a moment of peace.

All religions have one thing in common: they're a about abandoning self to a higher power. In those moments where I have escaped myself, I have found so much happiness. And that's why I keep going- because I've felt the joy and love of God, and am subsequently persuaded, deeply, that all pain has meaning and that God is in all things.

Yesterday I came across an interesting article that was discussing the causes of homosexuality. Its conclusion was that, while scientists still can't be sure, it is most likely a combination of biological and environmental factors. That got me thinking... why is it that no one ever discusses the causes of heterosexuality? It can't just be uncaused. There has to be a reason that most people are sexually attracted to the opposite gender. Well, there are a few options. Heterosexuality could be biological. I think this is the option most conservative people would opt for. But if heterosexuality resides within our genes, wouldn't it make the most sense that homosexuality is also biological? Okay, so let's say that heterosexuality is caused by being raised in a "normal" environment. If homosexuality is caused by a abnormal environment, then they are determined in the same way, and are equally as powerful and difficult to change.

It just bothers me that people never seem to understand what it means to be gay. They don't get what it feels like to feel attracted to the same gender, and not attracted to the opposite gender. And frankly, I can't blame them. I have a tendency of assuming that nearly everyone I meet is secretly in the closet... because I cannot imagine a man not being attracted to other men. It's almost incomprehensible to me, because attraction to men is all I've ever experienced. Talking to some straight people, and especially straight men, they seem to assume that you are just a confused heterosexual who is lusting after the same gender. But it's so much deeper and more than that. Physical attraction is just one component of attraction, and I don't think that same gender attraction is all about sex.

And so, the important question for me in my life, is why is homosexuality wrong. I don't buy the argument that it's unnatural. The word "natural" is such a farce, because everything that has ever happened has occurred in the natural world... Also, the natural man is an enemy to God, right? Being unnatural doesn't make it wrong (and having naturally experienced the attractions myself, I obviously don't think it's unnatural.) The next argument that's generally used is that two men or two women can't have children. The purpose of sexual intercourse and long-term, intimate relationships, the posit, is to have a family, which homosexuals cannot do naturally. Thus, it is wrong. The problem with this teleological argument is that it mistakes the purpose of intimacy. Is it wrong for a married, heterosexual couple to be intimate if they can't have children? No. Is it wrong for heterosexual couples to use contraceptives and birth control? Not according to our doctrine. If the only purpose of intimacy was to have children, then heterosexual couples would only be allowed to have sex when they were trying to have children. This is not the case, and so the purpose of intimacy must be something different.

The purpose of intimacy is just that-- to be intimate with someone. To express and give love in a physical way. I've pondered a lot before on just how absolutely empty feelings of lust are. There's nothing behind them. Lust is just a really, really strong desire that is never really fulfilled. It just goes away. Sex as an end unto itself is pointless. Allowing your life to be driven by lust and lust alone leads to an empty, purposeless life, I think. Those powerful physical emotions are given depth and meaning when they are not an end unto themselves, but the means to an end. The end being a person that you love. When the person is the object of your love, and not the pleasure, it changes the entire meaning of sexual feelings.

So why would it be wrong for two people of the same gender to share physical intimacy to express deep love for each other? It all comes down to the question of whether or not homosexuality is deviant, or a part of your inborn character. That is why conservative groups spend so much time trying to prove that it is not biological (but as I said before, if it's not biological, then I struggle to see how heterosexuality could be biological, which would put the two, once again, on an equal playing field of innateness).

Within Mormon theology, I think, the wrongness of it is viewed from an eternal perspective. Gender roles and identity are a part of our eternal nature, as it says in the Family Proclamation. The purpose of marriage isn't just to be intimate or to have children here on earth-- it's far more than that. It's to enable us to become like God. God Himself has a Wife, right? And we're meant to go into the eternities as couples, procreating forever. If God is heterosexual, then homosexuality is obviously deviant, because it inhibits you from fulfilling the purpose of life--- which is to become like God. Why would God create a spirit child that cannot fulfill its divine potential? We can safely assume that He wouldn't, because His purpose is to "bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man." We were made to become like Him. And so He wouldn't make anyone who couldn't. Homosexuality, therefore, cannot be innate in Mormonism. It has to be either a purely physical affliction that did not exist before and will not exist in the hereafter, or something that went wrong and can be changed.

And so, accepting the premise that it is deviant from the way things ought to be and that something has gone wrong to make you this way, it is acceptable to preach change. Because even if you can't personally change yourself, God can change you. We believe in a God of miracles. He can heal you.

But what if sexual orientation isn't what God needs to heal us of? What if the problems that God wants to heal us of are hatred, pride, selfishness, envy, and prejudice? "The end of the law is this, that you love your neighbor as yourself." "All of the law is fulfilled in one word: that you love your neighbor as yourself." "By this shall men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another." "If ye have not charity, ye are nothing..." "Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God, and every one that loveth is born of God and knoweth God, and he that love not knoweth not God. For God is love."

I don't think that my sexual orientation is sufficient reason to doubt what has been revealed to me by the Spirit (no matter how much the Zen Buddhist in me might). And what I know by the Holy Ghost is that God lives, and that He loves me. I know that Christ is my Savior. What I do not know by the Spirit is whether or not homosexuality is wrong. For it to not be wrong in God's eyes, I would have to accept that there are a few fundamental flaws within Mormon theology. For now, I believe Mormon theology. But even more deeply, I believe that God is greater than Mormonism. He is greater than any of us know. And He knows things that I don't.

Well this has been another fun ramble. More to think through my own thoughts than anything else.

Tonight was another fugue.

I went to a friend's house tonight for a little get together. There were a few good friends there that I haven't seen in a long time. We watched one of my favorite movies and had lots of great conversation. There was one point where I was talking to this girl... and I couldn't help thinking... wow, we'd be great together. We've got all of the same interests and passions, and we get along really well. And I started to feel hopeful again that I could be attracted to girls. That I'm attracted to men is unquestionable, but perhaps I could be bisexual.

Later, as we were watching the movie, I was on the couch sandwiched between her and another good friend. I had "liked" the second friend for lots of years in high school (in retrospect it feels like a disingenuous emotional crutch). At one point during the movie, something occurred to me. Until that moment, I hadn't even realized that my arms were touching their arms and that their legs were right up against mine. It didn't feel like anything. It was hardly noticeable. Now contrast this to Halloween night when I was sitting on at the same place on the same couch watching a movie with the same friends, only this time I was sitting next to one of my very attractive guy friends. Every time his leg bumped up against mine, I felt a wave of relief. There was no way I couldn't notice if he, for even a moment, scooted closer to me, or leaned towards me. But with those two girls, it was hardly even noticeable.

Conclusion? None at all. Just observations. During the first half of the evening, when I started thinking that maybe I could like this girl, I had a surge of hope. And as I felt that surge, my thoughts turned to the prophets and to the church, and I could hope it again. I could feel it. Later on as I remembered experiences I'd had sitting next to guys that had been so different, I sunk back into doubt.

But overall, today was a very happy day. And I'm more okay with being gay than I ever have been before. I just don't know what to do with it. One day at a time, I guess.

random ramblings followed by a dialogue

When it first began to occur to me that the feelings of attraction I was experiencing were somehow wrong or not in line with what I had been taught, I had a few mixed reactions. The first was a sense of needing to hide it. The second was guilt. But the third was a desire to explore it further. I chose to repress the third and became a master of double think (something I'm starting to think is inherent within Mormon culture). This plays back into what I was talking about on Sunday--the contradictions. I wanted equally for it to stop and for it to continue. Two mutually exclusive truths trying to dwell in the same heart lead for some nasty psychological battles. And it turned me into a liar. I would pray a lie when I asked God to take it away. But I would also be thinking a lie whenever it occurred to me how much I wanted it to stay. In order to say anything in any direction, a part of me had to lie.

I was never very physically active, and so most of the time I would justify away my feelings of attraction for guys as me being jealous. I thought for the longest time that if I just got into shape and lost weight that they would disappear. I was wrong. They didn't.

I remember one day in high school I was sitting in the cafeteria with my friends. There were a group of athletic guys sitting to the right of us, and with them was a German exchange student. I can't remember his name, but I remember how I felt when I looked at him and sat near him. He was very physically attractive, and each day at lunch we would all sit in the same places. It was so distracting, because all I could think about was how angry I was at how I was feeling. I felt like I couldn't think about anything else other than how frustrating it was. The thought occurred to me that I could stop being frustrated by it, and just enjoy it if I wanted to, because it does feel good to be attracted to someone. But then I would be swept up by guilt that I wasn't even trying to be good.

I've always been rather frustrated by the word "perfect." Perfect connotes a single standard of excellence to which everyone must conform. I hate it when church leaders talk about striving for perfection, because it feels like striving to be the same. In Chinese when Christ says "be ye therefore perfect," it's translated as "complete" instead of "perfect." I like that much more. Be ye therefore complete. Be ye therefore finished. But then that begs a question: if I'm not complete yet, then what's missing?

This is the part where the three fragments of myself rise up in battle. The believing Mormon part of me says, "obedience." The non-denominational Christian in me responds, "Christ." And the Daoist, very fittingly, replies, "nothing." 

I just had a fun idea. I'm going to write a dialogue. There will be a Mormon, a non-denominational Christian, and a Zen Buddhist monk. They are going to talk through my philosophical problems for me. 

Dialogue:

Mormon: The solution to any problem can be found in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Christian: I couldn't agree more. Knowing that Christ saved me from my sins brings me peace and freedom to face all of the pain I could ever encounter in this life.

Zen Master: Isn't that tree beautiful?

Mormon: Why yes, it is. But I don't quite see what that had to do with our conversation. We were discussing what a gay Mormon should do. I think that they should follow the gospel of Christ, just like everyone else.

Christian: And I agree, but the more we talk, the more I realize that we're meaning two completely different things by the word "gospel." What do you mean when you say "gospel?"

Mormon: Well, the gospel is the good news that Christ came to the earth, established his church, and atoned for our sins. It is the good news that after centuries of apostasy, his church has been restored to the earth, including the priesthood authority that he gave his apostles. That means that there are prophets and apostles on the earth today, who are the leaders of the church. Because of that, we now have the authority to baptize, give the gift of the Holy Ghost, and administer the sacrament. There are five steps to overcoming our sins through the gospel: having faith in Jesus Christ, repenting, being baptized by immersion for the remission of sins by someone who holds the priesthood, receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of hands, and enduring to the end.

Christian: That sounds like a really complicated gospel.

Mormon: No, it's actually very simple. It can all be summed up in one word: obedience.

Christian: What do you mean by that?

Mormon: Well, Christ completely obeyed the will of the Father by coming down to earth and living a perfectly obedient life and then died for us. He told us the way to overcome our sins (which is really disobedience to God), and that was by being obedient to Him. He said "If you love me, keep my commandments." We obey him by repenting of our disobedience. The way we repent is by confessing our sins to Him, and to other people involved if relevant, and to the Bishop if it's really bad, and then by changing. Really, repentance is just another word for obedience. Like it says in Moroni 8: the remission of sins comes by obedience to the commandments.

Christian: Okay, I'm starting to understand the difference. When I say the word gospel, what I mean was that God saw that there was pain and suffering in the world because of sin, and so God Himself came down to earth and lived as we do. He was God, so he obviously lived a perfect life. In the end, He was crucified for our sins, and He taught that His atonement was a free gift for anyone that would believe in Him. The gospel is really just the good news that Christ has saved us from our sins. It's so simple. He already took the punishment of our disobedience upon Him, and so if we believe in Him, He frees us from the law. He saves us by grace and grace alone, because no one can be saved by their own works. It's all about Gods love for us.

Mormon: Oh, but it's all about God's love for us, too. We're Christians too, you know. 

Christian: The more I talk to you, the less I'm sure of that. I think we believe in two different Christs.

Mormon: What do you mean by that?

Christian: Well, you believe in a Christ that saves you if you obey Him. I believe in a Christ that saves me because He loves me. Anyway, we're getting away from the topic of the conversation, which is about what gay people have to do to be saved.

Mormon: And like I said, they have to follow the gospel just like the rest of us. They, too, can be saved by obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel. They need to make covenants with God and keep those covenants. They have to keep the law of chastity. If they happen to find anyone of the opposite gender that they do have feelings for, then they should pursue them and get married. If not, then God will provide a way for them to keep His commandments. He always does. If you fail, it's you failing, not God.

Christian: But Christ has already given us the new covenant! The old covenant was God's covenant with ancient Israel, but Christ fulfilled the law of Moses. The new covenant is to come unto Christ and be saved. I agree that homosexuality is against the law of God, but all of us break the law of God daily. A gay person is saved the same way a straight person is saved: by realizing that they cannot save themselves and relying completely on the grace of Christ.

Mormon: It doesn't seem to me that our Zen Master friend has spoken much. What do you think?

Zen Master: **smiles** I haven't said anything, because I said all I had to say. The trees are very beautiful.

Mormon: But that's not even relevant.

Zen Master: Trees don't have to be relevant to be beautiful. And every tree is different. Look at them. No tree tries to be beautiful. No trees live up to any commandments. They simply are. And each one is beautiful.  

Christian: My Mormon friend and I have talked a lot about salvation. What do you think about the subject?

Zen Master: From what is there to be saved? 

Mormon: Well, sin of course. I mean, we all make mistakes, right?

Zen Master: A tree cannot make a mistake. It simply grows.

Mormon: But I was talking about humans, not trees. And they can definitely make mistakes. I know. 

Zen Master: **smiles** Humans can suffer. And sometimes their suffering leads them to prolong suffering and cause others to suffer.

Christian: Then don't they need to be saved from their suffering, at least?

Zen Master: Perhaps what they need to be saved from most is the concept of salvation.

Mormon: **flabbergasted** But don't Buddhists have their own form of salvation? Enlightenment, right? Nirvana?

Christian: **shocked** How can you say that the concept of salvation is wrong? It's absolutely freeing!

Zen Master: **laughs** Nirvana means "blowing out." Enlightenment is the blowing out of all desires, expectations, and judgments. One cannot achieve enlightenment who desires to be enlightened, because the very desire inhibits them from experiencing it. Salvation is something different entirely. It's the act of another to save you from something from which you cannot save yourself. But in reality, the Buddha nature is within. Buddha simply means "enlightened one." You can take it to mean "freedom." Freedom comes from within. Be free from expectations, judgments, and desires, then you shall know true happiness, true compassion, and true joy. As for homosexuality, there isn't such a thing. Labels are what we use to try to understand reality. But reality is not to be understood, but simply experienced. If one experiences deep compassion and love for someone of the same gender, then to deny that love would be to deny reality.

Christian: I simply cannot accept that, because God is too important to me. I've known the grace of Christ.

Mormon: And I have communicated with God. I know that Christ is my Savior, and I know that the Book of Mormon is true.

Zen Master: And I know the beauty of the trees.

And those are the three voices that battle it out in my mind. I like the Zen Master the best, personally, but I stay tied to the other two perspectives based on what I believe to be revelation.

Well this was an interesting post. It began by rambling and then devolved into a fabricated dialogue. How fun.

Something I Wasn't Expecting

Okay, so this one's going to take a little bit of background.

My dad's dad was gay. He and my grandma were separated and got back together something like eight times. And from what my mom has told me, my dad really hated him for it. And his biggest fear was that one of his sons would be gay.

And here I am :)

That's why I've never told him. I only told my mom for the first time a few months ago, and she reacted positively. But I've never told her about my feelings or doubts about the church, because I know that would crush her. The few times she's talked to me about it, she's assured me that God can help us all overcome our challenges. Communication is made increasingly difficult the more I realize that this is a part of myself, and not some disgusting disease.

Tonight something very unexpected happened. I started talking to my parents about the election on Tuesday, and then that naturally turned into a conversation about the moral issues facing our country, and of course the first one mentioned was gay rights. My little sister said something negative about the democrats for supporting gay rights, and I felt a little hurt, but knew that she didn't know any better. And then my dad went off on how legalizing gay marriage would destroy our society. And so I asked him, well, what should a gay person do, then? Live a life of celibacy? And that's when he said something that really shocked me:

"A bullet would do the job... Ha ha. No, but they can be changed. It's hard and expensive, but it can be done."

I stood up, left the house, and drove home. The word "demolished" feels most adequate to describe how I felt. My dad called and apologized, thinking that I had just been offended ideologically. The real reason I left was because I didn't want him to see me cry.

A year ago, that comment wouldn't have bothered me. Denying my feelings to the extreme, I always related to homophobia. But that comment was beyond homophobia. It was absolutely hateful. How can someone who believes themselves to be a disciple of Christ say something like that?

I know I shouldn't let myself get angry. If he knew, he never would have said that. But none of that changes just how much it hurts.

It's hard not to let the emotions cloud logic. I'm not going to make my life choices based on one night of emotional despair. I know that church doctrine and the teachings of prophets have nothing to do with what happened tonight. But hearing things like that makes it so much easier to emotionally justify my doubts.

Thoughts After Church

So I just got home from church.

Walking up to the church building with my roommates, wearing my Sunday best, and humming hymns, I couldn't help but feel the comfort of familiarity. I love going to church. I feel like during the meetings, and especially sacrament meeting, my doubts and frustrations are largely put at bay, and I can genuinely feel the love of God and be at peace. But then, as happened today, someone will often say something over the pulpit that just frustrates me and brings so many questions. One of the speakers today mentioned Satan's "attack on the family," and talked about how dangerous it was. A few euphemisms and metaphors later, it was clear what he was a talking about. And once again, I felt like I didn't belong. It's such a paradoxical feeling, to feel rejected by the familiar... and even a sense of familiarity with the rejection.

I think that people who are attracted to those of the same gender within the church face a dilemma the complexity of which few people are fully able to grasp. Last night I had a conversation with one of my very best friends where I opened up and talked more honestly with him than I ever had before. It was frightening, but good. As I tried to express why exactly I feel so much distress and pain over the issue, he struggled to understand, and I struggled to communicate, because there is just so much there.

It's so much more complicated than just being attracted to men. It's the implications of that fact on my personal and family life, and especially my faith, that causes the distress. Because I do have faith. And I have had many spiritual experiences. Specifically, I feel that I have received revelation from God that Jesus Christ is my Redeemer, and that God loves me. I have a testimony of the Book of Mormon. But if I believe that, what conclusions do I draw from it? If I'm to believe Church doctrine as revealed through modern prophets, which I am wont to do, then I must accept a few commandments that make my life difficult and awkward. Most specifically, I am referring to the commandment to get married, because "the man is not without the woman, nor the woman without the man in the Lord." As the scriptures conclude, "it is not good for man to be alone." Unless he's gay. In that case, he must live a life of complete celibacy. A life, I would argue, that is of slightly more difficulty than the unfortunate heterosexual who happens to never get married (and I don't mean to undermine their pain in any degree, because it is real and it is hard. And I recognize my own biases in saying that). For the celibate homosexual trying to live church doctrine, there's no hope of  a relationship, except for the slight hope that someday he (or she) will meet someone of the opposite gender to whom they are most miraculously attracted. I don't discount that this happens, like in the instances of Josh Weed and Josh Johansen. But it seems to me that it is very, very rare. And having lived a life of constantly hoping against hope and praying and fasting for a girl I'm attracted to, I can be the first to testify that it is not a happy way to live. Or maybe I'm just not doing it right, which is an option I'm open to (in fact, I would prefer for this to be the case.) In addition, for a homosexual within the church, there is virtually no way to relieve sexual feelings. You cannot masturbate or look at pornography (which are two commandments that I agree with anyway). You cannot hold hands, cuddle, kiss, or show physical affection for someone of the same gender (and as a college student, let me be the first to attest that it is normal and accepted for heterosexuals to do all of the above even outside of a committed relationship). All you can do is wish your feelings away. It's rather bleak to look forward to a life of that particular brand of celibacy. And so it leads me to doubt that it is what God intends for me. And that leads me to doubt the doctrines of the Church, and in turn the seeming infallibility of the prophets on the issue. Even just on this level questioning, it's extremely complicated.

And then there's the level of questioning your sexuality. I can't tell you how many times I've delved into a positive emotion felt for a girl in the hope that it was sexual attraction. When you're experiencing sexual attractions you don't want to have, it causes you to question the nature of attraction in the first place, which leaves you much more confused on the matter than the general populace. I'm sure that if heterosexual men questioned their every positive feelings for other men, they could be equally confused. But luckily, they live in a society that reinforces their dominant attractions to those of the opposite gender, and they can feel free to ignore or interpret as platonic any feelings for those of the same gender. For gay men within the church, and especially those who are just realizing what's happening to them, they are left not only questioning their feelings for men, but also their every feeling for women, trying to find the one that is "supposed" to be there, and trying so hard to accentuate any small feeling of attraction for the opposite sex. I would bet that there are more homosexuals in the church that question whether or not they are bisexual than there are heterosexuals who do the same.

And then there's the elements of fear. Fear of how people would react if they knew. Fear of losing everything you've ever loved. Fear of what decisions you'll make in the future. And for me it's not just fear of what people would think if they knew that I am attracted to men, but fear of how they would react if they knew the level to which I am questioning the teachings of the Church. I can just imagine the pain in my mother's eyes if I told her that I was questioning the Church. And I don't want her to feel that. I don't want anyone to feel that. I don't want them to be different or awkward around me. And so, for now, I sit in silence, contemplating the maze of complexities in which I live.

The best analogy I can come up with for my current feelings for the church is that of a fugue. In a fugue, there's usually a melody and a counter melody that are opposite from each other playing at the same time. And that is so completely how I feel. I walk to church, and I feel familiar and safe. I feel God. I feel accepted and loved. And then I feel confused. And I feel rejected. And I feel doubt and fear.

Ultimately, the difficulty of being a homosexual Mormon is that two innate parts of your identity are in constant collision, with your emotional and mental health the seemingly only casualty. It's demolishing.

Thank you to everyone who has read and commented so far! I was genuinely surprised and pleased by the responses. It does feel so good to know that I'm not alone in this. From what I've read of other people's experiences, loneliness seems to be an inherent part of this issue for most people. Especially before they realize that there's a community of people out there facing the same issues. For me, that realizing moment was when I saw the BYU It Gets Better video. I watched it over and over. I know that lots of people have criticized it for the way it starts and ends. All I can say was that it brought hope and comfort to me at a time when I was rather despairing, and for that I'm very grateful.

In my journals, blog posts, and really even when I just think about it, I often refer to my being attracted to men as "this issue" or "this problem" instead of labeling it as homosexuality, same gender or same sex attraction, or being gay. The reason for this is that I can't think of myself as homosexual or gay without equating it with the words "evil," or "stupid" in my heart, like I mentioned in my first post. I recognize that this is irrational, and I know very well that it makes me neither evil nor stupid. But alas, irrational feelings are still feelings felt, and referring to myself by those words makes me extremely uncomfortable. As for the blessed acronyms that permeate any LDS conversation of the topic (...hoping the sarcasm comes across...), I feel that SSA and SGA are often used conversationally in the same ways people refer to diseases and disorders, as something that someone most unfortunately "has" or "struggles with" instead of a part of who they are. Those really are the only two verbs people usually use with those phrases. I also feel like these terms are an excuse to avoid the negative connotations associated with gay and homosexual. Caveat: I don't mean to criticize other peoples' use of the terms so much as express why they make me feel uncomfortable. And so I'm semantically trapped between an inconvenient truth and a misrepresentation. I settle for just saying that I'm attracted to men, and subsequently referring to it in veiled and unspecific terms.

I'm really excited at the prospects of continuing this blog and writing through everything I think about. I plan on posting regularly, and everyone is more than welcome to post comments and questions and engage in dialogue. Again, it just feels so good to know that I'm not alone. Thank you for that.

Here's the thing-- I don't want to be gay. I don't want to at all. Tonight I was talking to one of my roommates, just a normal conversation, and afterwards I was pondering... I feel so normal when I'm just interacting with him, and with other people. But then when I'm by myself, or just lost in my own thoughts, it's like I enter another word entirely. In the real world, I have positive interactions with people. In my head, they all are looking for excuses to reject me. And I reject myself. I reject myself so deeply, because I don't want to be who I am. And that's the problem.

I read once on a blog the experience a man had when he came out to a pastor, and the pastor told him it was okay to be gay, and how that hadn't been comforting at all. I had a similar experience. While I was in Europe, I ended up talking to one of my professors, whom I trust deeply. And she told me exactly what I didn't want to hear: that it was okay. She told me that "things have a nasty tendency of turning out all right in the end." And she ultimately told me that it was perfectly okay for me to be gay. That was not at all what I wanted to hear. What I wanted to hear was someone who would tell me how to fix it. I wanted someone to see me in pain and give me the cure. I wish so badly that someone could just come to me and give me a way to be attracted to women so that I can be like my family, like my friends, and like everything I've ever learned has told me I should be. But it never happens, and it never will. I know that ultimately the power to change my perspective is in my own hands, but how do I go about wielding it? How do I actually change the way I see the world?

Yesterday as I was thinking about the title of my blog and what I said about it, I thought of a metaphorical counter argument. While my blog is about the uncarved block, and my purpose is to try to discover who I am, haven't I been taught my whole life that I'm like clay in the potter's hand? If the natural man is an enemy to God, then why am I trying to seek my natural self? Shouldn't I be focused less on who I "am" and more on who I want to choose to be?

I don't know. But part of what I mean by the uncarved block is truth as it is, unfettered by man's perceptions. I want to find the truth for my life. If that truth is Mormonism and the life of celibacy I will probably have to lead to stay with in it, then so be it. If the truth brings me down a different path, then so be it. Because ultimately, I am tired of acting out of fear. I am tired of being a slave to my circumstance. I am tired of hating myself for something I never chose. What I am experiencing most days is pain. And to me, that's a signal that there is something wrong. I need to discover what exactly that is and how I can go about fixing it. I need to find the uncarved block.

And so, for now, I'm going to continue posting here to myself. Maybe someday some people will start reading it. Maybe I'll use it as a tool when I start "coming out" to friends and family, so that they can see my thought process for themselves. I have this deeply selfish desire for people to know my pain, and especially my family and close friends. I just wish I could show it to them, and let them become a part of it. But I can't, because I'm far too scared of the repercussions.

Becoming the Uncarved Block

In the past two weeks I have busied myself devouring the blogs of gay Mormons, Mormons questioning their faith, and faithful Mormons whose perspectives differ from the mainstream. It has been an incredible outlet for me, seeing people who have been going through the same things as me and knowing that I am not alone.

My purpose in starting this blog is primarily to think through my life and express myself. I don't even know that many people will ever see it or read it. But I hope that someday the things I say here might help someone else as much as the blogs I've read have helped me. It just feels so much better to know that you're not alone, and to read someone else thinking through the same thoughts that are bothering you.

First I'll introduce myself and the situation in which I find myself at the present moment.

I have been a life-long member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I returned from a mission in Australia almost a year ago, and it was a very positive experience. I genuinely loved it. I have a great, loving, very active family, and my parents raised me in the typical Mormon manner, with plenty of family prayer and scriptures and weekly family home evenings. I'm a very happy, positive person for the most part, and I've learned over time how to hide my inner struggles from certain people, like my parents.

I remember the first time I ever used the word "gay." It was when I was six or seven years old. I remember I was standing in the bathroom in our home in St. George, Utah. I had heard the word used a few days previously, and figured it meant something along the lines of "stupid." So when my sister did something that made me angry, I shouted at her and called her gay. She was shocked, not like when I usually called her stupid or annoying. And then she told me that if I knew what that meant, I wouldn't have called her that. Because to be gay, she explained, was something really evil. My mom was nearby, and she told me I could never call my sisters, or anyone else, gay. She explained to me that gay meant when two boys or two girls loved each other like a boyfriend and girlfriend do, but that it was something really, really bad. I never used the word again, and avoided everything to do with it.

You can imagine how terrifying it must have been when I first started feeling sexually attracted to boys. All I could think of was how awful, terrible, and evil it was. The first time I really noticed was at my first scout camp. There were lifeguards that were a lot older than us, and they would stand by the water in only their swimming trunks all day. Whenever we went to swim, I would steal glances at them. Looking at them made me feel good. It was like a warm feeling inside, and it made me want to be closer to them. At first I didn't think anything of it, but the more I looked at them, the more I realized something was weird about it. It wasn't until a few months later, however, that I first connected those feelings to sexual attraction. It was close to the beginning of eighth grade, and I had met a boy in my band class that gave me those same feelings. Then Tuesday night for scouts, we went swimming at the local swimming pool. That boy was there. Seeing him swimming through the water, and feeling those feelings all over again, it dawned on me what I was feeling. This was how I was supposed to be feeling for girls. Tears came to my eyes, and I began in my head the silent mantra of "I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay." I couldn't be gay. Because to me, these feelings were evil. It was bad to be gay.

Fast forward ten years. I've now been back from my mission for nearly a year. In the first six months of being home, I tried so hard to have crushes. I tried liking and dating girls. It all came crashing down on me one Sunday as I was on a train ride with a good friend, traveling from Beijing to Qingdao in China. I was reading my scriptures, and I started to think again about the all-too-familiar topic of my attractions to men. I felt hopeless, and that hopelessness overwhelmed me. The next night, I sitting on the beach side, I talked with my friend about it all. I was more open with her than I had ever been with anyone up to that point. It was refreshing, but frightening. Suddenly the world of my inner mind and the real world crashed together, synthesizing by the words escaping from my mouth. As I talked about my attractions to men, it almost felt false. Like I was making it up. It was just so weird to actually say it and verbalize what I had kept inside for nearly my entire life. But it was so utterly relieving to have someone understand and care about the deep pain and dissonance I was experiencing.

The next day, I started watching the BYU It Gets Better videos, and as one of them talked about praying and telling God that he was gay and about the peace and acceptance he felt, I was overwhelmed. I burst out into tears, and I felt the Holy Spirit confirming to me that God loved and accepted me for who I was. I knew then that denying my sexuality was not productive, and it was not what God wanted for me. And so I decided to accept myself as I was. I finally realized that the long-awaited day when I would finally be attracted to girls, able to date, and marry in the temple would probably never come. And that it was okay. I called my friend up (we had parted ways at that point). The previous night I had told her that though I had those feelings, I most definitely was not gay. But when I called her, I told her that I had accepted it. That I was gay. It was the first time I had ever referred to myself as gay. It felt so wrong. It felt like I was calling myself stupid, bad, or evil. And I felt so, utterly ashamed to actually say it.

Things didn't get much better after that. A week later I had a complete breakdown while I was by myself in a hotel room. I started to tell people, random people at the periphery of my life. I met an amazing new friend in Guangzhou who I spilled my heart to, and she listened and cared. But I was still deeply depressed. Going home from China, I felt better, but not for long.

Five weeks into the new semester, I left with my classmates on a four week trip to Europe. The entire time, I felt a deeper despair than I had ever felt before. It was constant, and weighed so deeply on me. My biggest fear was that if these people around me knew who I was, they would hate me. Three of my roommates were with me on that trip, and I was so afraid. What if they knew? What if they all knew? What if my parents knew? The thought of rejection was too much, and I began to really, truly hate myself. I wanted so badly for it to be gone. I just wanted to be normal. I just wanted to be like everyone else. Watching the other guys flirt with girls, and seeing them cuddle and rub each others' backs was tortuous. They were unknowingly slapping me in the face with all I could never be. Luckily I was able to confide in a few people, and towards the end of the trip I began to realize more than ever that the problem was in my own perspective.

And so here I am. I will have been home from Europe for a week tomorrow. In this last week, I've been reading and re reading blog after blog. I don't know what I believe any more. I don't know who I am or what I want from life. I've titled this blog "the uncarved block." I want to use this blog as a journey to think through my life and my views and to discover my authentic self. I love Daoism. In Daoism, the uncarved block represents the concept of nature before the imprint of culture, or, as I'm using it here, the authentic or true self. I want to rediscover and become the uncarved block-- my true and authentic self. I feel like right now I'm fragmented. There's the part of me that believes deeply in Mormonism and wants to get married to a   woman and have a family. There's the part of me that believes strongly in Christ, and would be comfortable remaining Christian and abandoning Mormonism. There's the part of me that is extremely attracted to men. Part of me hates that, and the other embraces it. And then there's the part of me that's a Daoist, and just wants to enjoy the beauties of the present moment. I hope that in writing, I can find a synthesis. I want to overcome this fragmentation, and discover what I really, truly believe. And hopefully I'll be able to find and connect with people along the way that are experiencing the same struggles and dissonance as myself.

That's who I am and what I'm doing here.