I keep reading lots of personal stories about the day to day lives of others around here, but I keep on not sharing many 'stories' of my own. Part of this is due to my reluctance to share too much in the way of personally identifiable information. This is stupid, probably, because it would take a research team a good while to dig through all these posts and find the bits and pieces that might collectively identify me, but I'm paranoid just the same.
Add to that my inability to think of any particular story in my life that seems particularly interesting. I could write about growing up and how I had posters of unicorns on the wall, loved rainbows (seriously), and had an unusually large collection of stuffed animals for a boy. I could write about middle school and my complete insecurity around most other boys (especially in the locker room). I had just one best friend and he and I spent all our time together. Turns out, he's gay and off in San Fran somewhere trying to make a life as a performer. I could write about high school and the seminary president snarling at me one day, "Are you gay?" in a very un-seminary-like manner. I don't think I acted or appeared gay in high school, and I was always taken aback by a couple rare such confrontations. Part of the issue, of course, was that this guy was ostensibly worthy to be the seminary president, but he was an intolerant jerk. If I could relive my life again, I would punch him squarely in the face. He wouldn't have fought back (he wasn't the type), but if he had I would have enjoyed getting beat up for it. Pain is so much less intimidating to me now days (hey, I can write for my own morphine! j/k).
I could write about my various crushes through college. There was the straight roommate who I got into a little trouble with, the straight roommate who fell in love with me (did I tell that story ever?), the straight roommate that I think has figured out I'm gay and doesn't return my calls even though we were best friends... Apparently I have a lot of roommate stories. Good thing my current roommate has an "anything goes" policy. ;-)
I could write about my experiences with bishops and counselors, my adventures with my family, my activist moments in national policy meetings, or my med school days.
But none of these things seem all that interesting to me. I could tell the story, but I don't have anything to say about it. Maybe it's time to come out to my family like several others have done recently. That might make for some drama. :-)