These hazy bluish-gray days have painted a world to match the frequency I feel my soul has settled upon lately. Trees appear out of the fog like frozen shadowy skeletons and, as far as I can tell, they are all that seem to survive the dense meandering wall of grey. It is suffocating. The air is void of sound, save the crunch of my boots on uneven gravel road. Even the small bits of color that this mild winter has graciously spared has lost its cheerfulness. How have I ended up, once again, in a colorless world?
When I hit the road and began my journey eastward, just days into 2015, I didn’t really grasp the significance of the shift I was making. I knew that I was going from partnered to single, west to east, urban to rural, from known to unknown- but I underestimated how much my well-established mental framework would be challenged.
A little boy went running down the halls toward his parent’s room, his father trailing behind him. He burst through the door and found his mother crying in a fetal position on the bed. The boy’s father swept him into his arms and closed the door before carrying the child with him to the bench swing on the back patio. She didn’t like crying in front of people, and today— she needed to cry.
“Why is mommy crying?” the boy asked, concerned.
“Because she is sad,” his father replied.
“Why is she sad?” the boy continued.
“Because she misses grandpa, son,” he explained.
The boy thought for a moment, “cause she can’t see him any more?”
“That’s right.”
He scrunched his face and looked down for a moment before he looked back up at his father and asked,
“How long will it hurt?”
The man took a long draw of breath, looking up at the stars. Then, he turned toward the boy and answered,
It hurt more than I thought it would. It was bearable enough though. After a few seconds of pain he would let up, gifting an immediate moment of relief before he’d continue again. I felt so out of place in that room- surrounded by people and images that years of conditioning taught me to judge so harshly. Topless women, bleeding hearts, demons and gods— Tattoos, they said, defiled the body.
As a child, I remember Sunday School teachers asking, “would you spray graffiti on the walls of God’s temple?”
“No!” I’d answer confidently. Of course I wouldn’t. In all honesty, I wouldn’t have sprayed graffiti on so much as the side of a dumpster, never mind a sacred building.
“Well,” the teacher would
explain, “God says your body is a temple. So if you’d never spray
graffiti on God’s house, you must also never put graffiti on your
body.”
I’m not sure when exactly it happened, but there was a moment
sometime in May when the universe seemed to align and something clicked
within me. Here, on this isolated piece of beautiful farmland, I’ve
spent countless hours alone. I sometimes go weeks without hardly talking
to another soul. I’ve been listening to podcasts and stories and
reading books and writing almost every day as I sip my morning coffee.
I’ve listened to the sounds of the forest and the fields as they
change- from season to season, day to night, and from dry to wet. The
earth is so alive, and I have felt myself come alive with it....
Recently, I found a little gem mentioned almost in passing in the introduction of The Artists Way by Julia Cameron and I’ve been thinking quite a lot about the idea she expresses. I’ve been expanding it over the course of the past few days and thought it worthwhile to share. It’s about the trajectory of life’s path, asserting the notion that that it isn’t so much a linear one as it is a spiral. So rather than thinking of life as an obstacle course with a new challenge at different points along a linear trail- this circular path alludes to the revisitation of specific points along our journey. As we gain elevation and reach a higher plane, we inevitably circle around to some of our most persistent demons, each time battling them on a new (deeper) level before being rewarded with another gain in elevation. As frustrating as it is, I have found this to be consistent with my experience...
“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?' 'That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat. 'I don't much care where -' said Alice. 'Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat. '- so long as I get SOMEWHERE,' Alice added as an explanation. 'Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, 'if you only walk long enough.”
-Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
Life often seems to me like a lone adventure through a maze of forks and crossroads. There are periods of consistency when there are no major decisions to be made and there are also spans of road we share with a fellow traveller(s)…
Six of us sat around the dinner table in a farmhouse in the middle of rural Maryland. Across for me were the married couple. They are service missionaries and occasionally wear black name tags that read "the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints." To my right sat the cowboy from Utah who has probably spent more time with sheep than with people and is rarely spotted without a cattleman's hat atop his head. The remaining three of us have been on this farm longer than the others, but not by much, and despite the fact that we were all from different decades, we came out of the closet in the same one...
Earlier in the week, during a phone call with my mother about how things are going for me in this new life, she commented that she admired my bravery— that I took risks. This comment got me thinking a lot about bravery. It isn’t that I hadn’t been called brave before. After going through the coming out process and being vocal about it, I had many people suggest that I was brave. But I’ve never, never-ever, thought myself to be brave. Cautious feels more like me. So when my own mother made that remark, I was taken a little aback by it...
When I was 12 years old, my family moved to another city. Many would agree that Middle school is awkward enough all by itself, without throwing in a move to a different school half way through seventh grade. Up until then it proved to be the worst year of my short life. The new house was only 30 minutes away from the Orange County neighborhood where I grew up, but for a twelve year old, it might as well have been the other side of the planet... Continue reading this post on my new blog
Since leaving Mormonism in 2010, and subsequently resigning my membership in 2012, I have kept watch and remained interested in the progressive Mormon movement within the religion of my youth. It has been a grassroots movement led by intellectuals, historians, feminists, LGBT-allies, and those that yearn for greater equality and diversity. They are believers in “big-tent” Mormonism and want their church to be a refuge for all that are weary, despised, rejected, and disenfranchised rather than a church that welcomes only the few “elect” who step in line and embrace the status quo...
When you fall in love,
you don’t do it with an expiration date in mind. Minute by minute, hour
by hour, day by day, you just begin to build a life around another
person. Pretty soon months and years go by and you’ve created a pretty
remarkable thing and you look over to find a person that knows you
better than anyone. A person you trust enough to guard the deepest most
vulnerable pieces of your heart. He's the last person you see before you
close your eyes, and the first when you wake. Not too long after
falling in love, hardly a memory is made that is void of him and life
fails to take on a definition independent of this, the most significant
person in it. Continue reading this post on my new blog.
I am trying hard to disassociate from my old religion. It is really difficult for me to do, however, because the Mormon Church has taken such a spotlight role in the anti-LGBT movement. So here I am, with two identities I had no choice in which are in constant turmoil with each other. I was devoted to my religion for the first 25 years of my life. I was born into it. I am also gay, and always have been. Its hard to move on when the organization that I was devoted to for so long has been so insistent on striping me of dignity. First, by trying to prevent me from the right to marry...
I am not a victim. This is something I’ve tried hard to remind myself a lot lately. Being raised in a religion that taught me to hate such an essential piece of myself took a toll on me. It has defined many of my life’s struggles. But I’ve made very intentional decisions to help me reclaim my power and to become the author the life I wish to live rather than to be consumed and paralyzed by feelings of guilt, anger, and shame.
“Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change.”
The desire for deep human connection is common among us as a species. We have a desperate need to eradicate the undeniable sense of loneliness that fills us even in the midst of a crowded room. The truth is, no other person on this world can really share the unique experience that we live out in our minds. Our irrational thoughts, our inescapable fears, our paralyzing doubts, and the seemingly inescapable masochistic self-flagellation that we employ to remind ourselves how far below par we are; Our most intimate hopes, our silly but deeply sincere dreams, and our unquenchable craving for love and beauty— the extent and depth of these can never truly be known by any other human being. And yet, we try. Keep reading this post on my new blog!
An image that will stay in my mind forever is pulling out of Sean’s parent’s driveway after Sean and I said our goodbyes. We embraced for a long time and I held it together. We walked out into the frigid cold and when I turned my back to round my car I began to lose it. How could I turn my back on so much good? What was I heading towards?
You know those specific points in life that alter your life forever? There are two kinds. The first is accidental. In the moment, you are completely oblivious to how dramatically a specific act ends up altering your life. It is only upon looking back on your life and examining it that you become aware. For example, as a result of some purposeful decision, like starting a blog, you unexpectedly meet your future lover. Or, a dark example is the day you...
Winter has always been somewhat trying for me in Utah. I came here from Southern California where Christmas lights and decorations adorn houses shaded by palm trees from the warm California sun. It was not uncommon to be in a t-shirt and sunglasses on Christmas Eve. "Winter" was a thing only seen in the movies, and where winter was, Christmas was also. They were basically conjoined twins in my mind.
last year's tree
When I moved to Utah to go to BYU, I was excited for winter. I never had a "white" Christmas before and the snowfall leading up to the holidays was magical. But once Christmas ended, I was confused when the snow and cold didn't follow suit and go into storage with the other Christmas decorations. Instead the cold dragged on for months and months while the sun stayed hidden from the sky. The snow loses its magic when you look around to realize that the demise of colorful lights and cheerful sound of Christmas bells gave way to the normal grueling work-day and you realize the world has become depressingly black-and-white. The black of dormant trees stand starkly against the dirty white of old snow and the outdoors become a sort of frozen wasteland.
Today marks the winter solstice- the darkest day of the year. In the midst of getting presents wrapped and finishing Christmas preparations, I must also go through all my earthly possessions and decide what to leave behind and what to pack. It is a daunting task and it is hard to find the motivation to decide what I can do without and what I will take with me on the 2,000 mile journey that lies ahead of me. There is no snow this year- no magic. Instead, a dark sky and the sound of rain serves as a reminder of my uncertain, cloudy future.
Sean and I didn't bother with Christmas lights and decorations this year in anticipation of our move. It just seemed too daunting to put up decorations only to pack them up along with everything else. Tonight, however, we will go to his parents house and decorate the tree. It will be bitter-sweet. The colorful lights and decorations will undoubtedly bring much needed "magic" into the season, but it will also be a sharp reminder of the family I am leaving behind. Its a sobering thought that I am soon going to have to say goodbye to people who love and care about me so much.
captured in August at a dude ranch in remote Wyoming
But while it is the darkest day of the year, something else will go up along with the Christmas tree decorations tonight. It also happens to be a new moon. The end of a cycle, and a bright new beginning- the beginning of a journey back into the light. Surely, there are still dark days ahead, and the gains of each day will be small, but there is hope in knowing that there is light at the end of this tunnel. Spring will bring with it rebirth, regrowth, and a chance to decide what I will bring with me into this new cycle of life.
captured in Spring 2014 in our yard
As part of that "house-cleaning," I intend to move my writing over to a new blog. I will continue to post here, but they will be copied from the new location. I've grappled a lot with this decision, but I feel that I need to step away from Mormonism more completely so that I can forgive and heal from my past. I've already begun un-following Mormon-themed facebook groups and have tried resisting the urge to read news related to Mormonism. My Mormon past and heritage will always be a part of me, but I no longer wish to give it power to define me. I also don't want to continue living a life where I am angry about the past and wish to live in the present where I can accept things as they are. A present where I can be at peace with who I am and where I've been. I'm trying to step away from labels that attempt to paint a picture of who I am because I feel it is incomplete and has too much resemblance to the dark black-and-white world of the bitter months of winter which I have come to dread.
my old missionary shoes
These "Gay Mormon Shoes" have served their purpose. They have taken me down paths that weren't always flattering, through stages of grief, bitterness, and anger. They have also led me to greater acceptance of myself and those I might have once thought of as "other." They have led me to my first experiences with love. They have aided me in channeling my talents into work that hopefully does good in the world. But they have become worn and tattered and cause increasing discomfort. It is time to leave them in the shadows of the darkest day of the year so that I can fully embrace the light ahead. As always, I welcome you to tag along. Once my first blog post is up at the new location, I will direct you there.
Until then, perhaps you too will discover things in life best left behind as you look to embrace the new beginnings that the journey into the light ahead promises. Have a very merry and magical Christmas.
When I started this blog, there were much fewer resources for LGBT Mormons. Going through my self-acceptance and coming out phase was extremely difficult and disorienting. I felt so alone and so lost and so unsure of my future. As I processed all my thoughts and emotions, I realized that there would be others like me who had no one to talk to, no one to relate to, and no resources. So I set out to become a sort of resource by sharing my story as it unfolded. At the time, I had no idea that the act of starting my blog would change my life in a very measurable way.
I used to receive emails from around the world from people who read my blog or came across my YouTube videos pretty frequently. Many times they would be emails from people who felt alone and scared and they just needed someone to talk to. Every once and awhile, when I could, I would meet people and talk to them face to face. 3 1/2 years ago, I received an email from a boy named Sean. He was going to college in LA, had recently come out, and emailed me because he was coming home to Salt Lake for the summer and wanted to know how to meet other guys who came from a Christian background.
He had come across my blog and videos and other than the fact that he was in college, I knew nothing about him. I invited him to come to a game night with a group of friends in Provo. Our relationship developed over the next few weeks and we have been together ever since. We've had a wonderful relationship and many adventures. Sean has been my rock while I navigated these new waters, and I like to think I've been his. We've always had each others' back and all the hard things in life are that much easier to deal with because of that.
There are often pivotal moments in life that we can look back on and recognize as life-changing events. More rare, however, are the points in life when you recognize very distinctly that in the present moment, you are making life-altering decisions. Now is one of those times.
Sean and I, after many tears, conversations, counseling sessions, and much thought, have decided to go separate ways at the end of the year. Sometimes real love means saying goodbye, and I believe that is true for us. It has been very difficult to accept the reality of this decision. For the first time in a long time, we are both facing a heartbreaking challenge and we wont have the other to be our rock- to get us through and hold each others' hand while we heal from the pain-- and that is absolutely terrifying.
A couple weeks after making this decision, I was offered and opportunity to do long-term work for Madison House Autism Foundation, which is located in the Washington DC area. I accepted that opportunity, and will be moving there the first week of January. It is so much to process. Not only am I experiencing my first real heartbreak and ending my first long-term relationship, I am leaving practically everything and everyone I know, packing my belongings into a car, and driving 2,000 miles away. This will be a clear point in my life where everything changed. I don't know what is in store for my future. It will be a new type of journey, another stage in this unpredictable life- and I plan on taking you all along for the ride.
"Modus operandi (plural modi operandi) is a Latin phrase, approximately translated as 'method of operation'. The term is used to describe someone's habits of working, particularly in the context of business or criminal investigations. In English, it is often shortened to M.O."
With the release of and subsequent media blitz on the LDS Church's new essays, there has been a resurgence of discussion surrounding the validity of the claims the Mormon Church makes within the membership of the church. It has been interesting to see the response. Some, fueled and armed with official Church sources, have found the courage to speak up to friends and family about the loss of belief they have encountered over years past. Others, unprepared to handle the onslaught of accusations, hunker down and buy into the Church's insistence that the new information has always been widely known and accepted by "well-read" "long-term" members of the Church, effectively putting the blame on the membership if they were unaware of the uncomfortable information.
But, by and large, it seems that more people are upset about the dishonesty and manipulation of information than the actual historical facts themselves. I think it is justified considering what the LDS Church has to say about honesty:
“When we speak untruths, we are guilty of lying. We can also intentionally deceive others by a gesture or a look, by silence, or by telling only part of the truth. Whenever we lead people in any way to believe something that is not true, we are not being honest.”
The problem is, with the recent essays, it becomes shockingly clear that the Mormon Church has not been honest with the world.
Joseph has always been depicted with one wife- Emma
The Book of Abraham was presented as a translation,
which has now been proven false
These are only a few examples- the very tip of the iceberg. But, Mormonism has a long history of lies and deception- starting with Joseph Smith, and it makes one wonder- if the LDS Church and its leadership is what it claims to be, why lie? Why mislead? Why lie to your wife and the church about polygamy if God commanded it? Why destroy the printing press that threatened to reveal your supposedly god-sanctioned polygamy? Why purchase artifacts and documents that threaten to destroy truth claims to hide them away from the public (even though they turned out to be fake). This is the biggest question. It would seem that the Church itself does not believe its own claims that it will "go forth without hands to fill the earth," and "nothing can stop its progression," otherwise, why try so hard to control information? Why revise history? Why deny the past?
These are all valid questions and concerns for members to ask, yet recently, the LDS Church released this in response:
"Some of the hardest questions come when what we believe is challenged by changing cultural fashions or by new information, sometimes misinformation, that critics of the Church confront us with. At such times, it may seem that our doctrinal or historical foundations are not as solid as we thought. We may be tempted to question the truths we’ve taken for granted and the spiritual experiences that have formed our faith.
What do we do when doubt seeps into our hearts? Are there really answers to those hard questions?
Yes, there are. In fact, all the answers—all the right answers—depend on the answer to just one question: do I trust God above everyone else?”
So, right there, in very plain text, the church has just stated that questioning and doubting is a temptation and that new information that causes doubt is likely misinformation from critics even though the church itself has finally partially admitted to what the "critics" have been trying to say all along. People should ignore the facts, ignore the evidence, and rely on “feelings” and simply trust “God” (or in this case, the leadership of the church that speaks for God).
Guess what! Those people who crash planes into buildings and strap bombs to themselves also trusted in God above all and ignored reason and doubt. I wonder how people read this and not clearly see how they are being manipulated into blind obedience. It isn’t about whether or not the Church does good in the world or not. It’s about whether or not people feel that their church should be in the business of manipulation. If the Church really is what it claims, why should it need to manipulate and control information? It is very unsettling whenever you give up your capacity to think and reason and question simply to follow a self-proclaimed leader. It is dangerous even.
"Doubt your doubts!” (Uchtdorf)
"Some things that are true aren’t very useful!" (Packer)
Or, as the guys at south park put it:
When you start to get confused because of thoughts in your head,
Don't feel those feelings!
Hold them in instead
Turn it off, like a light switch
just go click!
It's a cool little Mormon trick!
We do it all the time
When your feeling certain feels that just don't feel right
Treat those pesky feelings like a reading light
and turn em off,
Like a light switch just go bap!
Really whats so hard about that?
Turn it off! (Turn it off!)
Galatians 6:7
"Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap."
Looks to me like the Mormon church is reaping what it has sown.
