One of the suggested reasons reparative therapists offer for homosexual attractions is a long-established disconnect from masculine acceptance. That's why they have guys running around learning how to play sports and feel good about it. It's a theory that has often been criticized (sarcastically), but one that makes a little sense in my mind.
I hated church ball as a kid. I would rather go to the dentist than throw a basketball (or any ball, for that matter) with an audience. And, I suppose the surprising thing about this is that I'm not too bad of a ball player. I'm not great... my skill development stopped in about the third grade when I quit wanting to play sports pretty much at all... but I do quite well in things like racquetball.
Anyway, as a kid I was invited (half-heartedly) to play with the teachers' quorum team. When I gave it a shot, I was horrible, and the other kids being of the appropriate maturity level for a set of average 14-year-old boys weren't particularly supportive. I didn't go back and they didn't pursue me; or if they did it was obviously half-hearted. "Hey, -L-, if you want to play, we'll certainly sacrifice our chances of winning and cheer you on in a condescending show of supporting our ridiculous teammate." Yes, there's some pride operating there, but I should be given the same concessions of 14-year-old maturity that I give my teammates, right?
So, here I am twice the age and still suffering from caring what other people think. The authors of the blogs here on my sidebar are generally nice to me, even when I'm a ridiculous fool. I appreciate this and it fosters a community spirit that allows openness and honesty without fear of being hurt for it. It also fosters quick and blameless changes of opinion rather than a, "you said something false in writing and in public and now your humiliation will be celebrated" view.
But, when I go out into the bloggernacle proper, I think I freeze up a little bit. I let jeering and obnoxious people keep me from speaking up. I defend myself and my views with a fervor that I later easily admit to myself is ridiculous and counter-productive. In short, I get the same types of insecure feelings I got when I attempted to throw a baseball as a teenager.
I know I've been on quite a kick of blogging about blogging for the last several weeks. But, what can I say? It's been on my mind, and writing this stuff makes me get over it, it seems.
Showing posts with label support. Show all posts
Showing posts with label support. Show all posts
Monday, May 07, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
New button
For several weeks now I've been working on getting Northern Lights up and running. It's a new moho blog intended to be kind of a hub for faithful LDS gays. There are a bunch of reasons for starting a new blog, and I figured I'd fill everyone in on the back story here. You can read the "official" story on the blog itself at ldslights.org.
A while back I tried to get a feel for what everyone thinks young LDS gays need in terms of resources. There were a lot of good points made, but I left the thread thinking that this community of bloggers, although imperfect, is one of the best resources available. The community is kind of an organic thing with lots of different view points, and that's part of what I love about it. There are smart, good people both in and out of the church who critically think and dialog about issues that matter to me. On the other hand, I've got to say that some of the posts I read on rare occasions don't do me much good. For example, I'm pretty susceptible to online images of shirtless guys. It would be nice to learn from people's blogs without being afraid I'll open a post and get some underwear shot that will tempt me to go looking for more.
And honestly I think my blog is as offensive as any. I'm free and loose with language that doesn't bother me, but very well may bother others. I'm not going to link to any examples of my occasional irreverent posts, but if you've read here very long, you'll probably know what I'm talking about.
What is a trigger for one is not a trigger for others... and one thing that makes this blogging community remarkable is the candid nature of what people talk about. I don't think that should change. However, I do think that if someone is a member of the church looking for information, exploring some personal feelings on the topic, and want to limit their looking to a topic-focused blog that has explicitly stated standards consistent with the church... there has been nothing available.
So, when I heard about North Star, a nonprofit group that has been in the makings for several months now but hasn't fully launched its web presence yet, I was delighted to have the opportunity to be involved in creating an associated blog--Northern Lights. I really do hope that you will put it on your sidebar, add it to your reader, and consider making it a part of your online rounds (there goes the doctor in me... I can't even think of another way to put it!).
I also want to briefly mention that we've tried to include some links to the existing queerosphere on Northern Lights. This was a quick and dirty effort and we tried to only include blogs by folks who consider themselves to be committed to the church for the reasons mentioned above. The trick is, we just based that assessment on our own views, not on your views. We'll try to be in touch with you to check that including your blog is okay, but if you think we've pegged you wrong (one way or the other), it's your own assessment that counts. Please let us know and we'll add your link or take it down.
And maybe my new button can be your new button too. :-)
A while back I tried to get a feel for what everyone thinks young LDS gays need in terms of resources. There were a lot of good points made, but I left the thread thinking that this community of bloggers, although imperfect, is one of the best resources available. The community is kind of an organic thing with lots of different view points, and that's part of what I love about it. There are smart, good people both in and out of the church who critically think and dialog about issues that matter to me. On the other hand, I've got to say that some of the posts I read on rare occasions don't do me much good. For example, I'm pretty susceptible to online images of shirtless guys. It would be nice to learn from people's blogs without being afraid I'll open a post and get some underwear shot that will tempt me to go looking for more.
And honestly I think my blog is as offensive as any. I'm free and loose with language that doesn't bother me, but very well may bother others. I'm not going to link to any examples of my occasional irreverent posts, but if you've read here very long, you'll probably know what I'm talking about.
What is a trigger for one is not a trigger for others... and one thing that makes this blogging community remarkable is the candid nature of what people talk about. I don't think that should change. However, I do think that if someone is a member of the church looking for information, exploring some personal feelings on the topic, and want to limit their looking to a topic-focused blog that has explicitly stated standards consistent with the church... there has been nothing available.
So, when I heard about North Star, a nonprofit group that has been in the makings for several months now but hasn't fully launched its web presence yet, I was delighted to have the opportunity to be involved in creating an associated blog--Northern Lights. I really do hope that you will put it on your sidebar, add it to your reader, and consider making it a part of your online rounds (there goes the doctor in me... I can't even think of another way to put it!).
I also want to briefly mention that we've tried to include some links to the existing queerosphere on Northern Lights. This was a quick and dirty effort and we tried to only include blogs by folks who consider themselves to be committed to the church for the reasons mentioned above. The trick is, we just based that assessment on our own views, not on your views. We'll try to be in touch with you to check that including your blog is okay, but if you think we've pegged you wrong (one way or the other), it's your own assessment that counts. Please let us know and we'll add your link or take it down.
And maybe my new button can be your new button too. :-)
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
A world wide web of relationships
Today I had another required medical conference to attend. It was horrible. There's a big emphasis on training doctors for... well, what seems like everything but medicine, hence today's struggle against sleep while someone droned on about safety issues (that I've heard before a million times--just so you know I'm not a safety hater!).
But a while back I attended a conference about relationships that everyone pretty much hated except me. I guess I have a higher tolerance when there are humanities involved. This one was heavy on the poetry and imagery. The keynote presenter shared a Hindu saying that means, "Thou art that," and speaks to empathy. Essentially, through pain and suffering we see ourselves in others.
This relationship conference actually got me thinking about blogging and why I've enjoyed it so much. I like the debates (sometimes) about advocacy and important social issues, but I also like the stories. I wrote as notes during one lecture: "Stories crystallize the meaning content of social narrative." I don't know exactly what that means, but it sounds true. ;-) Stories bring out iconic pictures from real details experienced by real people. I guess I see blogs as distinct from other websites because of the power they have in this regard. I've been a little shy on the storytelling in this blog, but that will likely change.
My notes also centered on "reciprocal influence"- we are not unmoved. When we read stories we are changed, and I hope the change coming from gay Mormon blog stories can always be for the better. I guess I see the community here as a very good resource for gay Mormons who need... something. I hope linking and incessant commenting by me is taken as supportive of these community ideals and doesn't make me obnoxious. ;-)
But a while back I attended a conference about relationships that everyone pretty much hated except me. I guess I have a higher tolerance when there are humanities involved. This one was heavy on the poetry and imagery. The keynote presenter shared a Hindu saying that means, "Thou art that," and speaks to empathy. Essentially, through pain and suffering we see ourselves in others.
This relationship conference actually got me thinking about blogging and why I've enjoyed it so much. I like the debates (sometimes) about advocacy and important social issues, but I also like the stories. I wrote as notes during one lecture: "Stories crystallize the meaning content of social narrative." I don't know exactly what that means, but it sounds true. ;-) Stories bring out iconic pictures from real details experienced by real people. I guess I see blogs as distinct from other websites because of the power they have in this regard. I've been a little shy on the storytelling in this blog, but that will likely change.
My notes also centered on "reciprocal influence"- we are not unmoved. When we read stories we are changed, and I hope the change coming from gay Mormon blog stories can always be for the better. I guess I see the community here as a very good resource for gay Mormons who need... something. I hope linking and incessant commenting by me is taken as supportive of these community ideals and doesn't make me obnoxious. ;-)
Sunday, April 15, 2007
The ideal resource
Most people say on these blogs at one time or another that they wish there were better resources for LDS folks who struggle with their sexual orientation. I'm wondering today a little more specifically what form such resources would take. What would they need to convey exactly?
There are currently books on the subject--not truckloads full, but certainly more than a few from a spectrum of views on the church and therapy. There are websites ranging from social to academic, faithful to antagonistic (to the church). There are quite a few discussion groups available. And, last but not least, there is a fantastic blogging community.
For all of you who believe we need more resources available (and I'm one), what do we need? I don't want to hear that you think your particular viewpoint is under-emphasized and should be broadcast louder. ;-) I'm just curious to know what you would want and need if you were looking for resources.
There are currently books on the subject--not truckloads full, but certainly more than a few from a spectrum of views on the church and therapy. There are websites ranging from social to academic, faithful to antagonistic (to the church). There are quite a few discussion groups available. And, last but not least, there is a fantastic blogging community.
For all of you who believe we need more resources available (and I'm one), what do we need? I don't want to hear that you think your particular viewpoint is under-emphasized and should be broadcast louder. ;-) I'm just curious to know what you would want and need if you were looking for resources.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Choosing influences
When I was a kid, I always got the advice to choose good friends. But I never knew exactly how to go about doing that. It’s not like all the kids in the middle school line up waiting to be chosen by me. It’s more like if you want friends at all, you’ll take what you get and be grateful. There are personalities that I just clicked with, and looking back now, they weren’t always what one might call “a good influence.”
I like the idea of choosing the influences you subject yourself too, but it can be easier said than done sometimes.
Choosing to go to church or whether to read the scriptures and whether to watch a particular movie all seem to have reachable answers. But choosing whether to read some particular website, or follow a particular blog, or have some particular friend takes trickier judgment. As an adult my attitude has leaned more and more toward preferring the straight dope, so to speak... give me the anti-Mormon arguments, the pot-shots, the sophistry, I'll take all comers and I'll spend the effort to assess them for what they are. But sometimes I think this is a mistake. A big one.
Some time ago I joined a discussion group that calls itself supportive but turned out to be a meeting place for (what seemed to be) a bunch of really nice folks to grind their axes, indulge their hatred, and reinforce their skewed views on life. The hypocrisy is palpable every time I open up a few threads. It's almost like they've created an incubator for spiritual insanity. Of course, most of these folks would (and have) said precisely the same thing about the LDS church. It seems we're all "brainwashing" ourselves, I'm told. And in a sense, after stripping out the negative connotation, we are. I think people choose affirming influences--whether members of the church, members of an insane online discussion group or whatever.
But, as Einstein said, "The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing." I'm not an advocate of spurning all negative influences; we couldn't be rational and informed if we did. I'm just an advocate of spurning the bad negative influences.
I read blogs I don't agree with, but not all of them. Some have demonstrated their ill effects on me, and that's enough. I don't read much of the discussion group I mentioned above either. I tried to respond to some of their stupidity, but wasn't rewarded much for it--they persisted in their delusions and I left thoroughly abused. Why go back after that? If someone walks their dog by my house and leaves some crap on the lawn, I can clean it up easily enough. But I don't walk barefoot through the dog park and I don't go outside when it's raining dog doodoo. It's the same with anti-Mormon writings--I've answered every issue I've come across to my satisfaction when I put in the time and effort... but I don't have enough time and effort for the mountains of stuff thrown at me by folks who are so "concerned" for me (that they tenderly take me in... and then start snarling if I put up any resistance).
I'd rather build my own mountains of faith than fill the holes somebody else has dug.
Just be aware of what influences you choose and why. That's my advice for the day to all comers to the growing queerosphere.
I like the idea of choosing the influences you subject yourself too, but it can be easier said than done sometimes.
Choosing to go to church or whether to read the scriptures and whether to watch a particular movie all seem to have reachable answers. But choosing whether to read some particular website, or follow a particular blog, or have some particular friend takes trickier judgment. As an adult my attitude has leaned more and more toward preferring the straight dope, so to speak... give me the anti-Mormon arguments, the pot-shots, the sophistry, I'll take all comers and I'll spend the effort to assess them for what they are. But sometimes I think this is a mistake. A big one.
Some time ago I joined a discussion group that calls itself supportive but turned out to be a meeting place for (what seemed to be) a bunch of really nice folks to grind their axes, indulge their hatred, and reinforce their skewed views on life. The hypocrisy is palpable every time I open up a few threads. It's almost like they've created an incubator for spiritual insanity. Of course, most of these folks would (and have) said precisely the same thing about the LDS church. It seems we're all "brainwashing" ourselves, I'm told. And in a sense, after stripping out the negative connotation, we are. I think people choose affirming influences--whether members of the church, members of an insane online discussion group or whatever.
But, as Einstein said, "The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing." I'm not an advocate of spurning all negative influences; we couldn't be rational and informed if we did. I'm just an advocate of spurning the bad negative influences.
I read blogs I don't agree with, but not all of them. Some have demonstrated their ill effects on me, and that's enough. I don't read much of the discussion group I mentioned above either. I tried to respond to some of their stupidity, but wasn't rewarded much for it--they persisted in their delusions and I left thoroughly abused. Why go back after that? If someone walks their dog by my house and leaves some crap on the lawn, I can clean it up easily enough. But I don't walk barefoot through the dog park and I don't go outside when it's raining dog doodoo. It's the same with anti-Mormon writings--I've answered every issue I've come across to my satisfaction when I put in the time and effort... but I don't have enough time and effort for the mountains of stuff thrown at me by folks who are so "concerned" for me (that they tenderly take me in... and then start snarling if I put up any resistance).
I'd rather build my own mountains of faith than fill the holes somebody else has dug.
Just be aware of what influences you choose and why. That's my advice for the day to all comers to the growing queerosphere.
Friday, February 23, 2007
525,600 minutes
It's been a year since I first cracked my knuckles and hammered out a self-conscious, slightly ridiculous post. There have been over 200 since then, and things for me have (appropriately enough) changed.
I've used this blog as a kind of narrative therapy: not a therapeutic intervention that has been measured for this purpose ever before (to my knowledge), but an amazingly effective one from my experience nonetheless. My counseling visits were a good start, and I still endorse counseling, but this has given me a much more thorough method with which to explore my ideas, receive feedback, and deliberately shake down my issues. And I have the permanent records of the journey rather than someone whose relationship with me will be temporary. I've thought all along that if I force myself to read relevant books and really think about what they say, I might be getting better therapy than if I were sitting in an office rehearsing my life details to someone who doesn't know me. I'm ultimately in favor of a combo approach for now--counseling and blogging.
However, I can't unreservedly recommend blogging as narrative therapy because there are certain risks involved. I've been subjected to some harassment, minor really, and a smidgen of humiliation and misunderstanding now and then. It's a risk, I suppose, exposing one's thoughts to public scrutiny where all manner of anonymous nay-sayers get a full opportunity to scoff and scurry away.
The other risk I've noticed is less applicable to me (since I'm remotely located and anonymous), but ought to be mentioned just the same. While I've made many friends online (some of whom have become more conventional friends over time), I've also heard of folks who have gotten into trouble with other bloggers. I suppose there's something to be said for the value of choosing good influences online and being cautiously judicious just as we should elsewhere.
But overall the enterprise has been a successful one, I think. If a year is measured in love, it has been a red letter year for me. Past that, this blog has been themed with change. So, I suppose I ought to give an accounting of where I've been and where I want to go. I'm more knowledgeable, sensitive, and self-aware than I was a year ago. I'm more faithful too, somewhat surprisingly.
This year I need to continue some of the projects I've started--like the 12 step program posts and book club. Oh, and I should probably go back and label all those old posts from before the new blogger! Finally, I probably need to economize a bit in terms of how I spend my online time, so I apologize if I comment less.
Anyway, here's to my one year blogiversary and positive change!
I've used this blog as a kind of narrative therapy: not a therapeutic intervention that has been measured for this purpose ever before (to my knowledge), but an amazingly effective one from my experience nonetheless. My counseling visits were a good start, and I still endorse counseling, but this has given me a much more thorough method with which to explore my ideas, receive feedback, and deliberately shake down my issues. And I have the permanent records of the journey rather than someone whose relationship with me will be temporary. I've thought all along that if I force myself to read relevant books and really think about what they say, I might be getting better therapy than if I were sitting in an office rehearsing my life details to someone who doesn't know me. I'm ultimately in favor of a combo approach for now--counseling and blogging.
However, I can't unreservedly recommend blogging as narrative therapy because there are certain risks involved. I've been subjected to some harassment, minor really, and a smidgen of humiliation and misunderstanding now and then. It's a risk, I suppose, exposing one's thoughts to public scrutiny where all manner of anonymous nay-sayers get a full opportunity to scoff and scurry away.
The other risk I've noticed is less applicable to me (since I'm remotely located and anonymous), but ought to be mentioned just the same. While I've made many friends online (some of whom have become more conventional friends over time), I've also heard of folks who have gotten into trouble with other bloggers. I suppose there's something to be said for the value of choosing good influences online and being cautiously judicious just as we should elsewhere.
But overall the enterprise has been a successful one, I think. If a year is measured in love, it has been a red letter year for me. Past that, this blog has been themed with change. So, I suppose I ought to give an accounting of where I've been and where I want to go. I'm more knowledgeable, sensitive, and self-aware than I was a year ago. I'm more faithful too, somewhat surprisingly.
This year I need to continue some of the projects I've started--like the 12 step program posts and book club. Oh, and I should probably go back and label all those old posts from before the new blogger! Finally, I probably need to economize a bit in terms of how I spend my online time, so I apologize if I comment less.
Anyway, here's to my one year blogiversary and positive change!
Monday, October 23, 2006
Groups
The principle that Elder Wickman has talked about, in a nutshell, is that if you are trying to live with and maintain ascendancy over same-gender attractions, the best way to do that is to have groups that define their members in terms other than same-gender attractions.Elder Dallin H. Oaks
Blogging has the added benefit of being remote (and therefore less likely to culminate in french kissing). It's the first chance I've ever had to really discuss this issue with anyone who had given it some thought. I enjoy discussing it with faithful saints in a similar situation, as well as nice folks who disagree with the church. The angry screamers I can do without, but they seem to avoid me for the most part. Knock on wood.
But I can't avoid the nagging feeling that Oaks is telling me to be in a group that doesn't define it's members in terms of this issue.
It makes sense, when I consider the small amount of info I have on how cyber-friendships have turned out for others. I know that gay LDS men who have joined online support groups have sometimes been propositioned repeatedly by other members... including nude photos. I know that people have hooked up in person after meeting online--sometimes for supportive fellowship, sometimes for sex, and sometimes for supportive fellowship that is at risk of becoming sex.
For example, what do you make of a virtual stranger who offers to fly to your hotel room when you are lonely and thinking of looking at porn? The ostensible reason is friendship and support. But the circumstances aren't appropriate. I declined the offer not because I didn't trust the person (who very well may read this), but because it didn't seem right. It's scary stuff, these waters we swim in online.
The in-person support groups seem to have just as much baggage, if not more. Would I want to attend even if I had the opportunity? I kind of don't think so. I know they're helpful for some, but at what risk? And when the activities involve camping and sports, what happens when it's time to take showers or bunk down in a tent together remote from civilization?
You know, I'm glad I'm anonymous. It gives me a good excuse not to socialize with other gay LDS guys in person.
But should I blog? Maybe as an island. An independent nation not affiliated with the Queerosphere at large. ;-) I don't see that flying. But, conceptually, it avoids identifying with a group. We'll see...
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Pressure
Last Friday I put a stat counter on my blog so that I would have a baseline of how many visitors I typically get before the Salt Lake Tribune article was published in Saturday's paper. This didn't work too well since the first time I looked at my stats I had already received traffic referred from the Tribune's site--the online article went up on Friday.
I've watched the flow of visitors on the blog skyrocket and now wane. I feel kind of relieved because there was a certain pressure when I knew hundreds of people would read what I had written. I thought I needed to convey anything I wanted to convey as effectively as possible for this one shot to... what? I think I wanted to let people know I'm not a crazy person and I'm not kidding myself. I wanted to let people know that there are plenty of great people who deal with homosexuality that need love and understanding. I wanted to let someone out there like me know that you shouldn't listen to nay-sayers who think they can tell you what's possible with your life.
But, really, let's be honest. This blog isn't exactly going to win a Pulitzer Prize for its insights and literary quality. It's really about my story, my journey, and my issues. And frankly, I'm kind of sick of the article and the associated speculation about why I got married or why my wife agreed to it or whether we have any real intimacy or whether we have any chance to stay married... I'm ready to move on.
The other side effect of the spotlight that I'm trying to mitigate by writing about it now is the pressure I've felt to change the way I present myself. I find that I don't want to write about how I haven't looked at porn since that post a good while ago, and I don't want to say that I've been feeling particularly tempted. I don't want to get back to the 12 step posts that I intended to write as a workbook of sorts. I don't want people looking at my issues and saying, "See? He's a nut-job. There's no way that marriage is going to work!" In short, some of the personal benefit of the blog has been threatened. I don't care if people write "I told you so!" every time I post on something that I'm struggling with. I'm going to post anyway. And then I'll swear at them.
And so, I'm a little happy that my visitors today are only one fifth what they were a week ago. The pressure (imaginary or real) is relieved, and I'm glad.
I've watched the flow of visitors on the blog skyrocket and now wane. I feel kind of relieved because there was a certain pressure when I knew hundreds of people would read what I had written. I thought I needed to convey anything I wanted to convey as effectively as possible for this one shot to... what? I think I wanted to let people know I'm not a crazy person and I'm not kidding myself. I wanted to let people know that there are plenty of great people who deal with homosexuality that need love and understanding. I wanted to let someone out there like me know that you shouldn't listen to nay-sayers who think they can tell you what's possible with your life.
But, really, let's be honest. This blog isn't exactly going to win a Pulitzer Prize for its insights and literary quality. It's really about my story, my journey, and my issues. And frankly, I'm kind of sick of the article and the associated speculation about why I got married or why my wife agreed to it or whether we have any real intimacy or whether we have any chance to stay married... I'm ready to move on.
The other side effect of the spotlight that I'm trying to mitigate by writing about it now is the pressure I've felt to change the way I present myself. I find that I don't want to write about how I haven't looked at porn since that post a good while ago, and I don't want to say that I've been feeling particularly tempted. I don't want to get back to the 12 step posts that I intended to write as a workbook of sorts. I don't want people looking at my issues and saying, "See? He's a nut-job. There's no way that marriage is going to work!" In short, some of the personal benefit of the blog has been threatened. I don't care if people write "I told you so!" every time I post on something that I'm struggling with. I'm going to post anyway. And then I'll swear at them.
And so, I'm a little happy that my visitors today are only one fifth what they were a week ago. The pressure (imaginary or real) is relieved, and I'm glad.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Marriage advice
Our marriage started normally enough. High-stress wedding planning with a variety of mishaps and offended relatives was followed by a wedding we had hoped would take place during a cool sunny time surrounded by content smiling relatives. What we got was packs of sticky crabby children running around uncontrollably in a blistering humid swelter, and a set of adults who look in our photos as if they would rather be at the dentist.
That night I lost my virginity in an experience that could be described variously as wonderful and traumatic. We settled in finding out what each other was really like, and realizing that marriage involves seeing disgusting personal aspects you would otherwise never have to tolerate. We learned over the course of months how to make sex work, and with what I assume is a typical number of spats and apologies we now find ourselves comfortably acclimated to married life.
But there's more to the story than that. Much more.
We went to a marriage counselor before we were even married. I see this as a key decision. We talked through my homosexuality and my wife's willingness to accommodate me. We talked about what was possible, what was fair, what we feared and what we hoped. Our counselor knew very little if anything about our religious values, but he did a commendable job of working through the issues with us realistically.
I've been in personal counseling off and on since before we were married. I don't remember if there was anything in particular that precipitated my first visit. The first time was very difficult. I distinctly remember sitting in the waiting room before my appointment. I felt so self-conscious. I thought everyone must be looking at me wondering what I was doing in the office. Is he a wife-beater? A psycho? Suicidal? I hadn't started medical school yet, so I hadn't enjoyed formal training on mental health and the terrible problems with stigma and misunderstanding that go with counseling, but I consciously recognized in my mind that there was nothing wrong with my getting some professional help despite the strange feeling I was having. It felt like I was weak, but I recognized the self-awareness was actually more indicative of strength. I think it always is.
Over the years I've had a variety of counseling experiences. I've had an LDS therapist in a secular practice, a church employed counselor, phone counseling, student counseling, and couples counseling. Once I filled out all the paperwork in a counselors office and then had an uneasiness that I interpreted to mean I should look elsewhere. So I did. I just told them I changed my mind and walked out.
My wife has also enjoyed seeing a counselor. I don't know what exactly she works through during her sessions, but I know she's happier when she's had the chance to talk through things with a professional. I can think of at least one issue that she probably discusses with some regularity. [ha ha]
I've heard enough counseling horror stories to know that it is not a panacea. You have to be somewhat discriminating in finding a therapist. You have to do a lot of work on your own. And it can be expensive.
But my advice to anyone who is gay (and probably everyone else too) is to get comfortable with the idea of counseling. Get comfortable with the idea that living in this society with that particular issue is difficult no matter how you slice it. Get comfortable with the idea that it is not a sign of weakness but of strength to accept help. This advice is doubly emphatic if you are gay and in a straight marriage. And it's emphatic to the nth degree if you have found yourself happily married for years, but have never been fully honest about your sexuality with your spouse.
To every married person who reads this, I recommend you speak with your spouse to institute the following rule: either partner can request that either partner or both see a therapist and the other will agree without feeling defensive. That's what we've done, and I think we're a pretty damn good example.
That night I lost my virginity in an experience that could be described variously as wonderful and traumatic. We settled in finding out what each other was really like, and realizing that marriage involves seeing disgusting personal aspects you would otherwise never have to tolerate. We learned over the course of months how to make sex work, and with what I assume is a typical number of spats and apologies we now find ourselves comfortably acclimated to married life.
But there's more to the story than that. Much more.
We went to a marriage counselor before we were even married. I see this as a key decision. We talked through my homosexuality and my wife's willingness to accommodate me. We talked about what was possible, what was fair, what we feared and what we hoped. Our counselor knew very little if anything about our religious values, but he did a commendable job of working through the issues with us realistically.
I've been in personal counseling off and on since before we were married. I don't remember if there was anything in particular that precipitated my first visit. The first time was very difficult. I distinctly remember sitting in the waiting room before my appointment. I felt so self-conscious. I thought everyone must be looking at me wondering what I was doing in the office. Is he a wife-beater? A psycho? Suicidal? I hadn't started medical school yet, so I hadn't enjoyed formal training on mental health and the terrible problems with stigma and misunderstanding that go with counseling, but I consciously recognized in my mind that there was nothing wrong with my getting some professional help despite the strange feeling I was having. It felt like I was weak, but I recognized the self-awareness was actually more indicative of strength. I think it always is.
Over the years I've had a variety of counseling experiences. I've had an LDS therapist in a secular practice, a church employed counselor, phone counseling, student counseling, and couples counseling. Once I filled out all the paperwork in a counselors office and then had an uneasiness that I interpreted to mean I should look elsewhere. So I did. I just told them I changed my mind and walked out.
My wife has also enjoyed seeing a counselor. I don't know what exactly she works through during her sessions, but I know she's happier when she's had the chance to talk through things with a professional. I can think of at least one issue that she probably discusses with some regularity. [ha ha]
I've heard enough counseling horror stories to know that it is not a panacea. You have to be somewhat discriminating in finding a therapist. You have to do a lot of work on your own. And it can be expensive.
But my advice to anyone who is gay (and probably everyone else too) is to get comfortable with the idea of counseling. Get comfortable with the idea that living in this society with that particular issue is difficult no matter how you slice it. Get comfortable with the idea that it is not a sign of weakness but of strength to accept help. This advice is doubly emphatic if you are gay and in a straight marriage. And it's emphatic to the nth degree if you have found yourself happily married for years, but have never been fully honest about your sexuality with your spouse.
To every married person who reads this, I recommend you speak with your spouse to institute the following rule: either partner can request that either partner or both see a therapist and the other will agree without feeling defensive. That's what we've done, and I think we're a pretty damn good example.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Out, honest, and anonymous
There's a thread on Times and Seasons in which Ben (Master Fob) is lauded for his courage in attaching his name to a recent Salt Lake Tribune article. Overly self-critical, I'm prone to take this as an indictment of my lily-livered reluctance.
I've been asking myself why I'm so inclined to stay anonymous. I feel good about myself and I truly believe I have nothing to be particularly ashamed of. I've mentioned a fair number of sins on this blog (being gay is not one of them), but none that have been unaddressed, and I suppose that's part of the beauty of blogging about it--it moves me toward resolution. I get value from being frank in this blog. I enjoy the candid exchange on topics that matter to me.
I've discussed through comments the pros and cons of coming "out" to my family and decided that it's not what I want or need right now. I'm here. I'm on the blog and I'm real. I'll do my advocating that way--advocating for gays and for Mormons to one another. There may be some future time when I want to put my name behind my words. I can see how that has potential to be more effective.
However, this blog contains the good the bad and the ugly. It's what I would have said, had I been Mel Gibson drunk. Everyone might say, "See, there are his true colors, we hate him, he's trash," instead of saying, "perhaps he fights every day to deliberately shape his thinking into what he wants to believe rather than the prejudicial way he's inclined." Well, I don't know much about the Mel Gibson fiasco, except I've seen no such charitable assessment. Blood is in the water and it ain't pretty. Do I want some version of that for myself in which people I look in the eye on a regular basis judge my suitability as a parent, my decisions, my beliefs, and my sexual situation?
Even though I love and trust them, I'm not too excited to have my family read this blog either. It's not how I would present myself to anyone who knows me regardless of the fact that it is completely honest. Unrestrained honesty is not always the best thing. When we confess and forsake certain sins, we don't do so before the whole world. So, I'm keeping with our family decision to stay anonymous while hoping to hang on to the value journaling through this journey gives me. And if, by chance, you think you know me, please respect our wishes by keeping it to yourself.
I've been asking myself why I'm so inclined to stay anonymous. I feel good about myself and I truly believe I have nothing to be particularly ashamed of. I've mentioned a fair number of sins on this blog (being gay is not one of them), but none that have been unaddressed, and I suppose that's part of the beauty of blogging about it--it moves me toward resolution. I get value from being frank in this blog. I enjoy the candid exchange on topics that matter to me.
I've discussed through comments the pros and cons of coming "out" to my family and decided that it's not what I want or need right now. I'm here. I'm on the blog and I'm real. I'll do my advocating that way--advocating for gays and for Mormons to one another. There may be some future time when I want to put my name behind my words. I can see how that has potential to be more effective.
However, this blog contains the good the bad and the ugly. It's what I would have said, had I been Mel Gibson drunk. Everyone might say, "See, there are his true colors, we hate him, he's trash," instead of saying, "perhaps he fights every day to deliberately shape his thinking into what he wants to believe rather than the prejudicial way he's inclined." Well, I don't know much about the Mel Gibson fiasco, except I've seen no such charitable assessment. Blood is in the water and it ain't pretty. Do I want some version of that for myself in which people I look in the eye on a regular basis judge my suitability as a parent, my decisions, my beliefs, and my sexual situation?
Even though I love and trust them, I'm not too excited to have my family read this blog either. It's not how I would present myself to anyone who knows me regardless of the fact that it is completely honest. Unrestrained honesty is not always the best thing. When we confess and forsake certain sins, we don't do so before the whole world. So, I'm keeping with our family decision to stay anonymous while hoping to hang on to the value journaling through this journey gives me. And if, by chance, you think you know me, please respect our wishes by keeping it to yourself.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
A Congregation of One, part 3
I, a tormented and angst-riddled student, sat in the last computer from the door in my student life lounge as I e-mailed the MEDQ co-presidents a question. MEDQ was the GLBT medical student club. I was feeling lonely and depressed, and I really wanted to talk to someone. I needed more support. Perhaps from peers. Maybe someone who had been there. I wrote:
I've got a quick question for you both. In the spirit of your upcoming "coming out week", I was thinking about my situation and why it is that I feel that I have to keep it private. I'm unique in that I have been attracted exclusively to men my whole life, but I have made the conscious decision not to have gay relationships because of my conservative upbringing. Unfortunately, straight relationships just don’t appeal to me. But that’s the decision I’ve made and I seem to feel discrimination from the gay community for it (not to me personally, since I’m not “out”, but against the idea as “wrong”). So, I was just wondering what the position of the MEDQs is. Is tolerance a buzzword that applies only to gays, or does it apply to those who believe, for themselves, that gay relationships are wrong? Does discrimination apply only to anti-gay discrimination, or does it apply to anti-Christian discrimination for a personal moral position? And does coming out for someone like me have to be just as threatening because I fear how my gay peers will treat me? This is not a tirade and these are not rhetorical questions. I’m really interested to see what you have to say.
The response I received several days later warmed up by quoting the MEDQ mission statement. Then it got straight to the point of politely destroying me. Here is the end of their reply:
We do not believe in discrimination or harassment of any kind. Our group is tailored to providing a supportive environment for GLBT identified or questioning persons in all stages of the coming out process.
We feel that the questions you posed are philosophical questions that you need to answer for yourself, however if you would like to meet with either of us in person to discuss them, we would be happy to do that. We just do not feel that email is a proper forum for these issues.
In other words, go screw yourself. We exchanged one more message each, them remaining firm in their conviction to ignore me unless I met their terms and came “out” to them in person. I thought, how dare they send me their mission statement and then categorically deny it. They seek to “raise awareness of issues concerning GLBT patients and students” unless an issue doesn’t fall in line with their own bias. They promise to “[educate] about healthcare issues specific to GLBT individuals” as long as those healthcare issues are politically aligned with affirming gays. What about the perils of reparative therapy? Who would engage me in a dialog on the subject when I knew damn well that the American Psychiatric Association’s position statement was dripping with political motivation and biased science. Why on that subject do we, as a healthcare industry, seek to dictate to people decisions they should make rather than attempting to minimize the risks of the decisions they have made for themselves? And most reprehensibly the mission statement bellowed, “[provide] a social support network for GLBT and straight people in the
Also, we hate you.
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
part 6
part 7
part 8
Monday, July 10, 2006
A Congregation of One, part 2
“Oh, Landon. That shouldn’t have happened.” Bishop Peterson peered intently over his desk. I looked away. For some reason I could never hold eye contact for long these days.
My bishop was a dean in the
My previous bishop had actually been my brother, fourteen years my senior. I had just recounted to Bishop Peterson that while in my brother’s congregation I had met with a church social worker who had recommended counseling to appropriately address my “same sex attraction.” When I showed some concern over the cost, he said the church had a policy to fund such counseling. He would notify my bishop that I had need of counseling services, all while respecting my confidentiality by not disclosing the specific issue, and I wouldn’t have to pay a thing. I agreed. Only a short time later after being “released” from my job in the church teaching the teenage men in the ward did I realize there were probably very few situations that warranted unquestioned subsidization of counseling services by church offerings. Undoubtedly, my release was not coincidental. I had unwillingly been outted to my brother, but not in a way that would ever allow either of us to address it directly. From then on and forever more it would be the elephant in the room.
I have long been very comfortable with my situation. I wouldn’t mind family or church members knowing I’m attracted to men if I could just have a guarantee that they wouldn’t treat me any differently. Some would and some wouldn’t. So I see no benefit and plenty of risk. And I wouldn’t mind my gay friends knowing that I’ve chosen to be married and have a conventional family because of my religion if I could just guarantee that they would be understanding and supportive and wouldn’t try to “out” me for my own good. Or do something worse. There are bigots on both ends of the conservative-liberal spectrum. I was safe from neither.
“Well, bishop, it’s okay. I understand nobody meant it to happen that way.”
“Well, I think it’s inexcusable. However you decide to deal with this, I’m so glad you are willing to let me help bear this burden. I’m here for you to talk to whenever you may need it. And I’ll try to think if there’s anything else I can do.” He paused and leaned back in his chair. “I obviously don’t have any training in this area, but I want to help however I can.”
Unlike some encounters I had heard of between gay Mormons and their bishops, mine had been wonderful. I actually felt better about myself walking out of the room than I did walking in. I felt like a courageous person who was dealing admirably with a challenge that few could ever understand—not just being gay, but being gay and Mormon simultaneously. Really gay and really Mormon. I was managing.
Index for A Congregation of Onepart 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
part 6
part 7
part 8
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Friends
I haven't really read much of Cohen's book yet, but I remember seeing a chart that made a hierarchy of friends to help with healing. The idea was that gay friends are okay, but SSA (resisting gay) are more healing, straight friends are even better, and straight friends who know you struggle with SSA are the best. There was a rationale there, but I prefer to leave out the context to spur ridiculous comments. ;-)
So, I ask myself this evening, where do virtual friends fit in? My one and only gay date was found online. I've been propositioned online. I've heard that folks even get propositioned in support groups (e-mail groups as well as in-the-room group therapy). Unfortunately, I've heard of a lot of heartache resulting from cyber hookups--sometimes long-term. What do virtual friends have to offer besides temptation?
For one thing, they're my only support option in some ways. If I want gay companionship, I can knock on the wall and have the gay man who lives next door come over and be my friend, but he just thinks I'm a Mormon prude (and I really have tried to be nice to him... I guess I just reek of orthodoxy). And the fact that he's constantly inviting over calendar boys doesn't bode well for me. There's no Evergreen group within hours of here. Who am I supposed to talk to?
My discretionary time is about to vanish. Soon. How can I keep up with the chats, the comments, the posts, the e-mails? Cyber friends (sounds way better than "virtual" as it turns out) take a lot of time even when you type fast.
Well, who knows where it will all go. But to each of you who have offered your insights through comments, e-mails, and chats, thank you so much for your friendship. I think I'm a better man for it.
So, I ask myself this evening, where do virtual friends fit in? My one and only gay date was found online. I've been propositioned online. I've heard that folks even get propositioned in support groups (e-mail groups as well as in-the-room group therapy). Unfortunately, I've heard of a lot of heartache resulting from cyber hookups--sometimes long-term. What do virtual friends have to offer besides temptation?
For one thing, they're my only support option in some ways. If I want gay companionship, I can knock on the wall and have the gay man who lives next door come over and be my friend, but he just thinks I'm a Mormon prude (and I really have tried to be nice to him... I guess I just reek of orthodoxy). And the fact that he's constantly inviting over calendar boys doesn't bode well for me. There's no Evergreen group within hours of here. Who am I supposed to talk to?
My discretionary time is about to vanish. Soon. How can I keep up with the chats, the comments, the posts, the e-mails? Cyber friends (sounds way better than "virtual" as it turns out) take a lot of time even when you type fast.
Well, who knows where it will all go. But to each of you who have offered your insights through comments, e-mails, and chats, thank you so much for your friendship. I think I'm a better man for it.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Angst
A German word which means "anxiety" or "anguish." Technically, this is a term used in Existentialism which expresses the dread reality that the future is an unknown chasm; therefore, the choices that a person ( the existent ) makes are the determining factor in the outcome of one's future - thus, the cause for "angst."
My angst ebbs and wanes. For several weeks now, perhaps months, I've felt quite comfortable with where I'm at. But yesterday things boiled over and it reminded me that this journey is not going to be a short one.
My wife brought a gay-themed DVD home from the library this week. About 10 minutes into the show it was pretty clear that this show was not going to be good for me. I was turned on by the graphic portrayal of the characters' lives (nudity, sex, hot models dancing... it was all there). My wife asked if I was okay watching it, and I said that I didn't know. She asked if I wanted her to make the decision and I said yes. We turned it off.
Later in the day I confessed to her that I had watched a bit more of it. It was hot. And I was hungry. Plus, I had considered ripping it to the computer so I could watch it later when she wasn't around. I told her these things because I work through my angst, my conflict, my turmoil by discussing it with the person who loves me most in the world. And she said I had no need to hide it from her. If I wanted to watch it, we could watch it together.
I broke down. I was more emotional than I've been in months. Perhaps years. I said, "No! We can't watch it together. You don't get it! I'm addicted to pornography and that's exactly what this is for me. 90% of me wants to watch it with you. But the best 10% wants to get rid of it. It's not your fault. I know you are trying to help me and be supportive. But if I'm giving you mixed signals, that's why." My face scrunched and puffed. My dignity evaporated. My humiliation set in. Of course, being the saint she is, she apologized and agreed to help me be my best. She hid the DVD from me knowing I would probably want to watch it later that day. She loves me and struggles to know how to do what is best for me.
But this experience underscores the source of angst in my life. It's the divisiveness between the part of me that wants one thing and the part that wants the opposite. Someday I might make it to 100% one or the other--like Hurc or Kim--and that angst will be thankfully gone. I understand that neither rode is easy.
It would be hard to leave Mormonism for me. Despite my occasional doubts and struggles with the faith, I think the process of rejecting Mormonism would be a means to the end of embracing my gay desires. And I don't think I could be satisfied with leaving Mormonism as a means to an end. I'm in too deep.
And Kim says it has been 3 years angst free for her, but I know her struggles with the issues have lasted over a decade. No picnic down that road either. I've chosen this road for myself. The road less traveled? From all indications, I think my particular combination of choices and circumstances could be described as such!
Hence, the angst.
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