Backfiring Principles

I lost a relationship with someone dear to me because something about the Evergreen Conference persuaded him to take a divergent path which necessarily excluded me because we were dating steadily. He went because of me. He wasn't going to go to the conference, even though a loved one of his said they were going and wanted him to go with them. I would rather lose him to other philosophies than keep him out of total ignorance of them, so I told him so and suggested that it is better to have been there, to have heard the things said and have a personal response to them, than to refuse to even hear them, especially when discussing the ideas with his loved one. He agreed with that idea and decided to go.

I had reason to believe he was confident in his decision to date me and was quite comfortably and confidently on a different path than Evergreen taught. I knew certain people close to him, including the one going to the conference, were already suspicious of me as an influence in his life, which is why I told him I was going to hang back and not be in touch for the two days of the conference so as to not interfere and let him just soak it in and process it initially without my skeptical influence. I figured he'd have some questions, some ah-ha moments as I had, and have felt some tinge of desire to try the Evergreen way: working towards a temple marriage with a woman in a therapy- and gospel-centered way. I figured we'd talk about it, and he'd talk about it with his loved one, and he'd sort a few things out.

I was wrong. We said goodbye over the phone the night the Conference ended. That was it. No questions. No thoughts to bounce around. No more openness. Commitment of the sort Evergreen teaches often requires cutting out influences which don't fully support it and closing one's ears to contrary arguments because those distract from the goals. If you're going to commit, you must eliminate distractions and commit 100%, and immediately, while the resolve is fresh, like an alcoholic cleansing his house of all triggers and substances before he starts to rationalize keeping that one bottle just in case... Maybe I should have known. Maybe I suspected but didn't want to face it.

Maybe I should stop trying to articulate both sides of every issue and start trying to persuade people more. While I am trying so carefully to allow each person their autonomy by sharing my thoughts, as asked, while acknowledging opposing views and without trying to persuade them (especially when I see they are impressionable), I know the folks at Evergreen or Affirmation or political activist organizations are not going to be so gentle with them but will instead insist, testify, and persuade with all the fervor they have. And they will tell them that in order to make a change, you must surround yourself with the right influences and eliminate the destructive or wishy-washy ones. As such, they are at war, and it's only a matter of who gets to people first and demands the most discipleship, surrounds them with the most community and social support or shelter, gives them the greatest sense of mission and purpose, or exercises the most dominion and social sanctions for non-compliance.

Meanwhile, the quiet, measured, rationally moderate voices encouraging critical exploration of both sides are lost in the din and posturing of would-be mentors and saviors, all of whom believe their cause to be the righteous, correct, joy-offering cause, and all of whom can reasonably claim that to make effective changes, one must make hard decisions and commit to a process of some sort. Sometimes, the would-be mentors maintain a quieter profile, not loudly shouting on street corners but nonetheless using persuasive rhetoric in quiet conversations, based on their conviction of paths they believe are correct. You can hardly fault someone for sharing what's made them happy with those who seem interested, even when those people take away someone dear to you...but that doesn't stop me from feeling a marked tension with such friends.

I'm tired of feeling like I have to either join the more polarized ranks or have people I care about led away by them. I guess I want to be with someone who has seen both sides, who has listened to people from Evergreen, Sunstone, Affirmation, the Gay Christian Network, etc and opted for a moderate, personally-determined course while maintaining judeo-christian values and principles without the need for institutional or social approbation. Good luck, right? Maybe I want someone like that in the way conflicted, misbehaving LDS boys want friends who "know what they want" and are committed to church living: to find in someone else what I secretly am afraid I can't be, myself. Maybe. But I just think it has more to do with wanting something sustainable.

And hey, maybe one such organization seeking souls to save is right, and I'm just the wishy washy appeaser, a mere pawn or distraction in the raging war between good and evil, right and wrong, wallowing in indecision and unmanly, lukewarm non-conviction. Damn it, there I go giving benefit of the doubt. But I'll tell you this much: it was much easier and cozier (and empowering) thinking I was fighting on "the right side" with my clan of like-minded. It has taken a whole lot of conviction, perseverance, strength, and courage to be this non-polarized and...apparently standing alone.

In this case, I knew I had an opportunity to poo-poo Evergreen, to expound on everything I heard and saw at the conferences I went to with which I disagree, stroked his ego to reassure him that he is an adult and doesn't have to bend to anyone's insistence that he go to some conference, to keep him from ideas I believe are, more often than not, half-truths and glossy whitewashes which are excused because the path they promote is the "righteous" one. I saw a possible opportunity to pull him closer to me and defend him from his loved ones. But if I were to be with someone, I'd want to be part of their circles of loved ones, too, and I knew how important his friends and family are to him, and I couldn't bring myself to selfishly seek my own happiness at the expense of his personal growth and truth-seeking, and I deeply cared about him and wanted him to have the confidence of knowing he was freely choosing his path in an informed way. I do wonder why it was so important to me that he specifically listen to Evergreen but not important if he never went to Affirmation or was a member of North Star, etc. Maybe I perceived that he might be susceptible to Evergreen's rhetoric and was afraid of losing him to it at some point and wanted to save myself the pain further down the road by getting to it now. Either way, I chose principles or truth (as I see it) over comfort, even though I knew very well it could end up hurting me a great deal, and I would do it again, and I hope to always do that.

Yet I feel almost dirty when friends who believe he made the right choice to call things off with me tell me that's something they really respect about me. I know in my mind it shouldn't bother me, but it does. And I just wonder how many times I'm going to shoot myself in the foot or have my efforts to "seek truth" backfire, in a way, and cause me pain (hopefully not partially out of some drive to be a martyr, a thought which has crossed my mind but which I don't think is more than a possible, small factor), or if/when I'll cave and start combating persuasion with persuasion more often.

Anonymous Schmanonymous

OK, this post may seem, on the surface, hypocritical, since my blog is a rather anonymous venue for my articulatory jaunts, but those of you who know me well know that my sexual orientation (my attractions, gayness, queerocity, whatever you want to call it) is hardly a secret and that I'm pretty up front about it in most settings, including using my face and name on one web site for a time. I respect anonymity and believe it to be valuable or necessary at times. This particular setting is one in which I find anonymity most appropriate for me, for now, for various reasons I don't feel a need to explain. But I staunchly refute the absolute necessity of general anonymity for all people in connection with homosexuality.

So what?

There are some prominent players in the LDS world, people who were once respected as the primary voices regarding homosexuality and the church (and who seem hellbent on trying to regain that position of power and authority, judging from presumptuous titles of their publications which seem to purport they have some claim on the official or general voice of the church on the matter of homosexuality) who severely declare that no person should use their real name and face in connection with any published work about homosexuality.

Why?

Supposedly, from what I understand they've said to others (I've admittedly never had a dialog with this particular clan of therapists and therapist-disciples), it's for a few reasons, including:

• 1. You must protect yourself from the fiery darts of the activists: if they don't know who you are, they can't spy on you and publicize every slip-up, misconstrue any of your actions in their favor, contact your children to recruit them to the other side, or pipe bomb your bedroom and eat your dog and...whatever else activists do in secret to accomplish their nefarious purposes.
  
  
• 2. Your perspective may evolve over time, and you may find that something you said ten years ago isn't an idea you espouse anymore, so you wouldn't want Affirmation having their clutches on a statement you made and leading people away carefully with flaxen cords to the dark misery of same-sex partnership (hell) using your statements in which you no longer believe.
  
  
• 3. There's no point in jeopardizing your career or reputation over this. There is a lot of misunderstanding out there, and without the full context of your beliefs, your background, the perspectives explained in the rest of whatever anthology your essay may be part of which may or may not carry a title reflecting the arrogance of its primary authors/organizers, and an understanding of the gospel in its fullness (line upon line), you're surely going to be misunderstood, and if someone were to read what you wrote without all of that understanding, you're in a world of hurt having to explain yourself to every person you meet every day who surely will have been sent a chain e-mail spreading your entire essay across cyberspace.
  
  
• 4. (My favorite:) Think of the children. One day, you may get married to someone of the opposite sex, if you aren't already, and you may have children, if you don't already, and it would be utterly selfish of you to drag your spouse and children into the scrutiny and criticism of hateful, vindictive gay activists or schoolmates who will mock and deride your children for having a gay daddy/mommy. The children's lives will be marred by the trauma of being teased on the playground, being ridiculed by other children of their faith, and knowing that their dad once had feelings for the prancing queen they saw on Queer as Folk Season 24 (by accident during a one-week free Showtime preview) shaking his sweaty stuff on the dance floor, with whom they'll picture daddy gyrating, which will make them scream in sheer terror at such horrific debauchery.

If you buy into these perspectives, then any revelation of identity is just a reckless, selfish, grandstanding self indulgence to entertain your own wanton desire for sexual liberation. Now, don't you feel bad if you've outed yourself publicly or used your real name on your blog? Wait, reserve the self-lashings for a moment while I explain why I think these points are valid enough to consider but are simultaneously mostly crap when applied as blanket rules.

• 1. Fear-mongering is effective at silencing opposition. This works various ways. If it's true that the activists will pipe-bomb your house and run off with your children, then that's a terrible thing, and their opponents must stand up against it to conquer it rather than cowering before the tyrannical influence. Oh, wait...no...that's not what these anonymity-pushing folks are saying at all. Hm...so could it be they're using fear tactics themselves to keep people from standing up and being known? Well, regardless, if a cause is worth fighting for, if it's worth standing up for, then intimidation must be met and confronted. Since when did any social revolution come about by numberless anonymous pen names? ...Hm...maybe the anonymity folks are die-hard fans of V for Vendetta. That was an anonymous revolution, right? It's the idea that matters, not the people behind it. ...except that this is, by definition, a deeply personal issue. Besides, what "cause" are these folks fighting for? Greater acceptance of homosexual people in the church as long as they live the same standards as everyone else? Is that their primary aim? Or is that secondary to showing gay people what they need to become if they're to be part of the church and happy in the gospel? And how do they intend to achieve that end? By showing happy, functional faces of people living in temple marriages with families or living fulfilling lives as single people with support systems? Or by preaching at them with a bunch of shamefully cloaked pen names?
  
  
• 2. I believe this argument is, at its root, more about information control than it is about concern for the people whose ideas may change. I mean, if you have an anthology of essays written by nameless people, there is little recourse for anyone to follow up with those people ten years from now, to ask them how their marriage is going, whether they're still heterosexually functional, how happy they are in their path, or (most significantly, I think) whether they still support and stand behind the author of the anthology. Nope, an anonymous pen name can be a snapshot in time, a static snippet of one person's journey to a certain point, sealed and done, resolved and closed. It is tidy. It is convenient. It is supposedly all that matters. It is not real. Do I think most such people will be weeping and wailing and gnashing teeth ten years down the road, wishing they never married and pining for same-sex bliss? No, I think most will still be working at it, with ups and downs, and proclaiming that they wouldn't trade their life with their family for anything. I sincerely believe that. But it's much "safer" if nobody ever knows their stories post-publication.
  
  
• 3. I have to explain myself in all kinds of ways all the time. I take that back: I don't have to. I choose to. And sometimes I choose not to. There are many times when I just shrug and smile and move on, or say something like, "Yeah, I know it's hard to grasp. Maybe we can discuss it more in depth sometime." Or whatever. LDS people love to talk about times when they "had to" defend their religion to people at work because it opened a dialog which led to greater understanding and mutual respect. Of course, we tend not to eagerly discuss the times when such discussions lead to heated emotions or disrespectful insults and at least as much misunderstanding as before. But our religion is something we believe in and want to fight for! For these anony-misers, homosexuality is inherently a "problem" or a developmental hiccup, not a normal variation of sexuality, so the burden of understanding and dealing with it presumably rests on the shoulders of those who experience the deviant attractions. Yes, they may make efforts to increase understanding among church members and usually decry any hateful or demeaning language or actions, but that seems, at least, to take a back seat to their mission to convince all gay members that they can and should find a way out of homosexuality (an expression I think is misleading) and into a temple marriage. That's understandable, assuming traditional LDS doctrinal framework. But what I think it comes down to is this: some things are worth fighting for (like "the gospel"), while some things aren't worth the conflict (being strictly temporal and curable) and are better dealt with quietly and internally (like "same-sex attraction"). To me, however, the cultural awareness and mutual understanding through dialog are worth the risks in many cases. After all, how many LDS people are depressed and even suicidal over their religion and the social pressures against it?
  
  
• 4. On the surface, this seems the most selfless and noble of all of the reasons. How can you not do it for the children? How can you be so selfish as to bring them into this without them having any choice? First of all, I've never been a parent, so I have to admit to lacking a certain perspective in that regard. I do believe children should be a parent's number one priority. I believe they should be given every opportunity to grow and learn in love and guidance. I believe that, in most cases, fighting on the front lines of a cultural, political, or physical war would probably distract a lot of energy from one's family to their detriment. Priorities have to be weighed. But writing an essay for an anthology or even a web site is different, to me. Children grow up under many stressors that compel them to learn resilience and self-determination, endurance and dedication, living by principle in authenticity. My parents knew that being LDS would be a challenge for me in school, but I was never told to mask or hide it. I wasn't encouraged to flaunt it or talk about it at every turn, not out of shame but because there's a time and place for all things, and trying to force it on people generally doesn't garner healthy interest. I was ridiculed for my religion at times in an LDS-minority (maybe 10% or less) community. Some children are ridiculed for having mixed-ethnicity parents. A judge in Louisiana recently denied a marriage license to a mixed-ethnicity couple because if they had children, those children would surely endure unnecessary ridicule as a result. But again, I can only assume these anonymity proponents would say that's different because ethnicity isn't something they can choose whether to talk about, or because ethnicity is patently different from sexuality, so it's comparing apples to oranges. If you don't believe social change to be necessary, or you place more priority on shielding your children from existing prejudices than on changing those prejudices for future generations at the expense of your children's comfort and your own, then I honestly respect the decision of anonymity. But to push that same priority onto others is inappropriate and ultimately, in my opinion, more selfish and shortsighted than raising your children to meet the challenges potentially brought by your own authenticity and openness.

"Why do you care so much about this?"

I can't tell you how bleak it seemed, to me, that when I was searching for resources, all I could find from faithful LDS sources was anonymous, neat-and-tidy stories of how people "came out of" homosexuality or had families or found their testimonies, and all was resolved and pretty. It was depressing for various reasons:

• Nobody was willing to say, "Hey, do you know how unashamed I am and how comfortable I am with my situation now? This is my name, and this is my face. That's how comfortable."
  
• Even the anonymous stories were few and far between, so what hope did I have of finding anyone who could prove their comfort with their sexuality by saying, "Here I am"? I had no real way of knowing that one person didn't write two or ten stories under various names. I had no way of knowing if I could actually relate to any of these people on a real, personal level, or if they were a bunch of fanatical loonies. I mean, why was Evergreen hiding them all so carefully? Were they fugly? Were they all 187 years old? Were they all super femmy? Were they too attractive and therefore a temptation to us impressionable newbies? Why were they hiding?
  
• I wanted to know that people had stuck with their decisions after writing these pieces, but I knew that their anonymity generally shielded them from such follow-ups. I would rather have known that 2 or 3 out of 5 people had stuck with it than wonder if any of them had. I figured I might not even relate to those who didn't stick with it, so if the 1 or 2 I did relate with had, then that could provide some hope for me. I also recognized that identifying or relating to someone didn't mean I'd choose their same path, and I've always believed ideas stand on their own, independent of the people behind them, but when it came to this particular issue, I somehow found myself aching for more, longing to know that someone relatable was making their way through. I told myself I didn't "need" it. I never expected to need that. But in a way, in this case, or with this issue, I think I really did. I needed to see actual living, breathing people dealing with and getting through it, not anonymous stories.
  

Fortunately, there are now authors and organizations putting real faces and names out to offer new hope and truly "living" testimony of their beliefs and their journeys. While I may not be in a "spiritual" place right now to benefit greatly from those, I'm glad they are standing up and proclaiming their beliefs, presenting their stories, and connecting real people to each other and to the issue.

I sat with some friends about three years ago now, at a time when I was not at all ready to be open with my identity in connection with this issue, and I listened to a friend offering impassioned words about the need to put real faces with the issue. He spoke of the need for young guys suffering in suicidal agony, thinking they were utterly alone, believing nobody in the world could understand their conflict between religious beliefs and the desire for companionship and intimacy, or not knowing who to talk to because real people were shrouded behind a cloak of secrecy and hoops to jump through (which oftentimes disqualified them because of some behaviors) just to be able to sit with a group and share their true hopes and fears and questions. He spoke of the need for us to speak for ourselves rather than let Hollywood, or pride parades, or bitterly disaffected members speak for us. He spoke of the need for us to stand and be counted, to place real faces of church members' husbands, sisters, sons, mothers, uncles, bishops, and friends on what has, in the church, been a largely objective and impersonal issue, to show that we are here, we are quietly among them, and we are their dearest friends and family members, not so they'll give us a free pass but so that they will understand the impact of what they say in church, or think twice about how a silently suffering teenager might interpret their attitudes and actions, to humanize the issue and inject real, personal love into the way it is approached in the church.

I almost, at that time, felt guilty for still refusing to "come out" or use my real name in a publication. But I also knew that for each of us, there is a timeline. Each of us has different needs and priorities, different life situations and insecurities. I knew it was OK for me to stay "closeted". But I also knew there was a real need for those who were willing and able to stand up and speak for themselves, and I was deeply grateful for them. I also made a goal to work towards increasing openness, and I wouldn't change that process. It has felt right, and I hope more and more people will work towards openness and speak for themselves, not to self-satisfy, not to grandstand, and not to force understanding, but to be authentic, to show those who think they are alone that there are many who understand to some degree and sympathize, and to give those around us the opportunity to truly show compassion and understanding as we strive to do the same.

And yes, this blog will remain anonymous. ;-)

Infiltrating Evergreen

Due primarily to not having much money to throw around, I didn't go to either the Affirmation or the Evergreen Conference this year, contrary to my whims of curiosity. At least, not exactly...

Saturday morning, I met up with an acquaintance visiting from out of town for breakfast. While he was waiting for me to arrive, he popped into the now-infamous Elder Hafen talk. I got a couple of entertaining text messages, such as, "I've heard the word 'struggle' five times in the three minutes I've been listening," and "He's preaching the gospel of reparative therapy."

My arrival saved--I mean, prevented--him from hearing more, and we went to grab breakfast at the Nauvoo Cafe in the Joseph Smith Memorial Building. Ever had muffin tops there? Pretty decent, despite the unpleasant images the name conjures. As we sat outside talking, a small group of men with a video camera looked at us inquisitively, and I couldn't help but wonder if they were with Affirmation because they just...had that look. You know the look: gay face with religious bitterness, smugly and confidently superior in their embraced sexual identity. Hey, for all the crap Evergreeners get, don't even try to deny Affirmationers have a look, too. I decided to ignore their gaze and have a pleasant conversation with my breakfast date...er...non-date. After a good chat, he was off, and I realized I only had an hour and a half until Evergreen got out for lunch, so I loitered in the lobby of the Joseph Smith Memorial Building in front of the elevators to await the outpouring of Evergreenies beaming with newfound belonging and hurriedly hiding their incriminating name tags.

After greeting several acquaintances bouncing out of the elevators and meeting some new ones, I ran to grab some lunch to-go with some friends. At the Lion House Pantry, the cashier was a funny, somewhat bubbly girl who asked what everyone was dressed up for. I figured my friends didn't want me answering because I would've said something like, "We're attending a conference for LDS homosexuals who want to live church standards and maybe even marry and have families. Many of these guys would like to take a nice young woman such as yourself to the temple someday. I'm pretty sure nobody right here is quite ready for that, but you seem to be flirting a bit, so if you'd like to give my friend your number, he'll call when he's feeling hetero enough to give it a go." I silenced myself and stifled my grin as I looked to my friends to answer. One of them, who had been counseled by a church leader not to reveal this aspect of himself except as inspired, didn't feel so inspired and instead replied, "We're attending a conference." She asked what kind of conference. "Oh, it's a conference about different kinds of therapy." The girl didn't seem quite satisfied with that clarification but nodded politely and said, "Oh, that's cool." I must admit I rolled my eyes and smiled as we left the restaurant and headed back to the conference.

As we stepped off the elevator onto the conference floor, I remembered that when I first went to Evergreen three years ago, I hoped there would be armed guards at the doors to make sure only registered guests entered, so curious passers by couldn't infiltrate the conference and take notes on who was attending. You know, sinister henchmen building a database of repressed mormon homos to spy on, so they can reveal when they fall to temptation, thereby bolstering the "gay agenda's" assertion that gays trying to live heternormative lifestyles are fooling themselves. Well, there are no such guards, so I was able to visit with friends without anybody seemingly caring whether I was a registered guest or not. Although I have to admit I was tempted to bring in my camera with its telephoto lens and randomly take pictures of the most nervous-looking faces, write some notes on a piece of paper, declare, "Another suspected struggler confirmed!" and run away. But I refrained.

In the hallway on the way back to the conference, where the post-lunch session was about to being, I ran into the family of one of a friend I'd had a semi-fling with. "What in tarnations is a 'semi-fling'?" you ask? I guess I consider it something more than just friendship but which couldn't reasonably be called an actual relationship, and without sex in any form. It's different from a friend with benefits because there was a strong romantic/passionate component, and it needn't have "benefits" to be a semi-fling. Clear as mud? Good. Moving on. For a long time, I felt somewhat awkward talking to them because I was the guy who got sort of romantically involved for a month or so with their son while they were all just beginning to deal with all of this. I felt stupid for having done so, especially since he'd introduced me to his dad, while this was going on, as someone involved with North Star and I'd thought, "Oh man, don't set me up as...what the @#$% am I doing with you? I really should know better." But it was good to see his family (I really do like them) and not feel the awkwardness I used to feel. Hopefully it's all water under the bridge at this point.

While I waited for a friend, I picked up one of the books being sold in the entrance area that was apparently being highlighted and is an anthology of clinical, ecclesiastical, and personal perspectives on homosexuality in the Church. I thought it looked interesting and was glad to see "personal stories" included. I opened it up and, since I'm somewhat well-connected in the LDS "SSA" community, figured I might recognize at least one name. No such luck. Then it dawned on me. Were these real names? Any of them? I flipped to one of the stories and found an asterisk next to the author's name. I was informed, by the corresponding footnote, that this was not the author's real name. Apparently, the leading authors believe nobody should use their real name in connection with this issue. Presumably "for the children" or some such noble reason. Right, <sarcasm>because this issue needs to be made less personal, with fewer actual faces.</sarcasm> ...don't get me started on this kind of thinking. While I believe anonymity in each forum should be maintained or broken in each person's own time table and in wisdom and order, and I understand the ramifications "coming out" can potentially have on current or unforeseen future families, I believe in changing the playing field over time, which can only come from courageous pioneers willing to take risks, and I believe the staunch assertion that all should remain anonymous is destructive and sometimes a form of old-school information-control. If you don't have real people telling their stories, nobody can follow up after ten years to see how they're doing, and nobody can rely on them as authorities with real lives, leaving the "authority" to the "experts" with PhDs. But I may be a touch cynical towards certain "experts".

Since I was already at the conference lobby, and I'd been to two Evergreen conferences in the past, and I've been pretty involved with overlapping communities (North Star) quite a bit in the past, and I know I'm respectful, and I knew so many people there, and I really was curious to see the crowd this year, and some friends were singing a musical number in the next session, I decided to stay for the post-lunch session. I sat towards the front with a friend and scanned the crowd: buttoned-up conservative repressed types, flamboyant-haired pretty types, regular Joes and ...Janes? you'd probably never expect to be gay, let alone attending an EG conference, parents and siblings with and without their gay--I mean, SSA--family members, the clusters of age-grouped guys magnetized to each other, the familiar faces from years past I've only ever seen at Evergreen conferences... The session opened with a prayer and intro and musical number. The guys sang beautifully. I must say the song selection was pretty "gay": "Go The Distance" from Disney's Hercules, but it was good. But what moved me almost to tears was not the lyrics or the music but the tension of juxtaposing the uncertainty of whether our paths would eventually lead in the same direction or diverge with the strong love I felt for these good-hearted guys I counted as friends.



The presentation was by Nicolosi, and I have plenty to say about it, but I think I'll save it for another post. What I will say is that despite his air of apparent arrogance and his sometimes offensive sense of humor, he was pretty engaging and funny, he doesn't sugar-coat things (which can be alternately refreshing and abrasive), and hearing his theory out of his mouth was much better than reading it online or hearing it from antagonists. I almost questioned whether he might be on to something, though not on the absolute scale he asserts, once I shoved my emotional reactions, pride, and PC sensibilities aside long enough to actually fairly consider his theory and statistics.

After that, I was actually tempted to stay for more of the conference. I could stay for the Q&A panels or for Nicolosi's second presentation. I could stalk out Boskers and find out who he is and whether our mutual love of jazz and manflesh are the only things we have in common. I could go to the friends and family session and see the parents begin to understand, or cry, or pump each other up about educating themselves and their wards to try to make sure no gay kid feels rejected or alone enough to attempt suicide or run away from home. I might have overheard the parent telling my friend they wished their son were like him and how proud his parents must be that he's hanging in there, along with his stifled expression as he wanted to tell them their son probably wouldn't appreciate them expressing their pride to someone they just met and whose frailties they don't even know. I might have overheard a friend getting interrupted, upon mentioning North Star during one session, by a prominent LDS social work professor who apparently proclaimed something to the effect of Evergreen not supporting North Star, who was countered by a wife who defended North Star to her. What the professor may not have known is that the vast majority of session attendees were grateful members of North Star's discussion groups. Oops. Wrong crowd, ma'am. I would've liked to see that exchange. But I didn't because I decided to take a nap at a friend's house instead, from which I awoke feeling mighty good.

The rest of my contact with the conference was incidental and uneventful. I chatted with friends I hadn't talked to in quite a while. I incidentally observed the demeanor of a certain well-known, cantankerous therapist, whose biggest fan I am not, and found his interactions to be about as I'd expected, though I must admit to the possibility of confirmation bias, mustn't I? *tongue in cheek* I met some new acquaintances. I had a paradigm or two re-challenged. I wondered whether that guy just tried to hit on me outside the chapel...

Some people leave the conference feeling broken or self-loathing, others like the opportunity to hook up with impressionable, vulnerable guys, others only see awkwardness and hypocrisy, and others leave feeling uplifted and hopeful and full of insight and energy. I come away feeling glad to have spent time with some good people with good hearts, having heard different perspectives, considering the stuff that I can't refute, discarding the stuff I just don't buy, having enjoyed a laugh or two at the awkwardness of some attendees, and understanding that of course some guys will be playing footsie under the table or are not there for the reasons the organizers would hope, but recognizing that many are sincere and well-behaved. I think it, like most things, is what you make of it and what you let your bias or perspective tell you. Evergreen conference: it may not be your cup of tea, but it's not so bad.

Affirgreen Conference, Here I Come

I'm so tempted to attend two very... *ahem* ...different conferences concurrently this September in Salt Lake primarily to test my own emotional and intellectual reaction but also to compare their flavors back-to-back and, hey, just for the sheer giggle of the humorous duplicity. Could be fun. ...but expensive. Dang, I can think of a lot of fun or useful things I could spend $300 on. Hm, I'm going to have to think about this...



Ridiculously long P.S. -- Suggestion to Affirmation: get a new copy editor for your web sites. There's a handful of pretty dopey typos and grammatical foibles in your copy. Oh, and a little more substance to the conference might be nice. I mean, the shirtless missionary calendar guy? Really? Am I actually supposed to give a rat's rectum about his excommunication, especially when it's not like he was exactly lovin' the church anyway and basically flipped them off? And are you really going to try to convince me he had some noble mission in mind other than selling a tacky, controversially tongue-in-cheek skin calendar? Anyway, speaking of substance, Evergreen may have fringe psychologists with lots of theories and not that much in the way of statistically significant research studies to back them up, but at least they have Master's and PhD's. Of course, a play or film debut, those are cool, if they're at all good...that would really spice up the Evergreen Conference's dry, clinical and doctrinal approach that has me asking my neighbor to slap me to keep me awake, especially if he's cute. And lunch is covered? Nice. I had to buy my own lunches at the EG Conferences I went to. Although I must say the Saturday dinner banquet was quite nice both years. Oh, and to both organizations: we really need to talk about your web sites (although the Affirmation Conference's web site wins, aesthetically, from among anything those two organizations have put out). North Star's beta site is better than any of them. Of course, I may be biased...

"If they're so happy, why do they need support groups?"

*** Post begun 1 May 2008, finished 28 Oct 2010 ***

In a discussion forum I don't frequent but dropped in on recently, gay LDS and former LDS people were discussing ex-gay ministries or organizations, and someone mentioned a new organization called North Star. They said it seemed to be different from others because they focused less on change and carried a more positive message with less shame.

Someone piped in, mentioning that the pictures of people on the web site were all happy, smiling faces, and the person asked, "So why do they need North Star and its support groups if they're all so happy and confident about their lives?"

I had never thought of people looking at it that way. After getting over my initial surprise, I balked a bit and thought, "You might as well ask why Affirmation exists, or Pride Festivals." Even if you're happy in your path and confident you're following truth, there's benefit in being among others who believe similarly and will walk that path with you. And sometimes, doing the right thing isn't easy and requires some love and support and friendship to see you through. On top of that, when the thing you believe is not necessarily popular in some ways, it's nice to find others who are similarly different and can walk with and reinforce you in doing something you fully believe in but which isn't necessarily easy.

Ninja Vanish

So...I just clicked on a link to a particular blogger's blog only to find he had suddenly disappeared from all existence. How queer. So I think to myself, "Why am I not surprised?" *biting lip* Is that rude and presumptuous of me? Hear me out, if you will.

Sometimes, people seem to appear (in the blog world and in online groups) suddenly and unusually confidently on the scene of sexually repressed mohos. They know nobody personally, unlike most who burst confidently onto the scene. Nobody has met them. They sound a lot like other mohos. ...almost TOO much like other mohos. Yet, they say things that disarm you and make you question your skepticism. And as quickly as they popped in, and before you really start believing they might be who they claim, they pop out and are lost forever in the ethereal homo void outside the Blessed Realm of Mohodom. The way I see it, there are a few probable explanations for this:

a) They were feigning confidence. When confronted with the overpowering ease and forthrightness of the rest of us enlightened and uber-confident mohos *cough* *cough*, they are suddenly fearful and run back into the gay-mo closet where life is serene and understandable once again. ...uh-huh.

b) They're disgusted. They fly onto the scene expecting to find other mohos as emotionally healthy and socially prestigious as themselves, even being active church-goers (what?! you don't have to be in complete denial?), but they are completely disillusioned when they find out we're all self-loathing and/or egomaniacal attention-mongers. They consequently turn away in dismay.

c) Mom/Dad/Bishop/Psychotherapist/God himself said, "Stop interacting with those other mohos. They're making you more queer." Dutiful obedience follows.

d) They're attractive spies of the Dark Master--I mean--Affirmation--I mean--bitter gay ex-mo organizations pawning themselves off as moderate and fair-minded--I mean...bite my tongue--anti-reparative henchmen, working their way into the tightly-knit moho circles to reveal the hypocrisy of those who are pious paragons of the possibility of change by day, skanky whores by night.

e) They are not, it turns out, young, hot, blond, active LDS, surfer mohos but are, in fact, slimy, revolting-even-to-their-mothers, ex-mormon sex fiends hoping to lure away sweet, unsuspecting mohos from the fold to then strip them of their virtue in as filthy and kinky a way as possible.


So while (d) and (e) are remarkably unflattering depictions, these 5 scenarios are the probable explanations I've come up with. This post is really meant as an exploration of the quirkiness of our ultra-personal, impersonal online world, not a slanderous jab at our Vanishing Ninja Moho. Still, I can't help but wonder which of the above, if any, describes our brief appearance by the Vanishing Ninja Moho. Now, the world may never know.

...and he left before I had the chance to let him lure me away. Dang. I mean, I'm probably not easily lured, but the thought that those pics might have been real might be worth a little nibble. ...no, no, no nibbling. Bad me. Back to the home aversion therapy kit! Excuse me while I punish myself for my thoughts.


P.S. -- Upon review, I just realized this blog may attract the attention of people Googling "kinky skanky queer Ninja sex whores".

How exciting.