Tempted to Believe

Note: I wasn't going to blog about this. It was a very personal experience, and I didn't want to have to explain myself to anyone. But it was an experience I think is very much worth sharing as part of this whole process, so here it is.


When [he] suddenly called off our relationship and said goodbye after attending an Evergreen Conference, I was devastated (if my devastation surprises you, please take a few hours to catch up on this week's reading, and return to this post). I had knowingly assumed the risk, since he wasn't fully settled into the idea of dating men when we met, but we had overcome some significant hurdles. I had been tempted to bail a couple of times to avoid getting too invested, or because it seemed so unlikely to work out long-term, or because I was afraid he was more invested than I was, but I chose to stay and see things through, and I had been glad I did because I felt great about where we were going and what we were like together, and I'd started to fall. Things were looking better and better between us. He had initially surprised me--after we had decided to keep our friendship 'platonic' and I had decided to move back to the northwest--by calling me to ask me out "on a date" (I cried a little out of happiness, not gonna lie), and again with his apparently increasing conviction that he was where he was supposed to be, with me. So I half expected we would continue to clear the hurdles, and when this particular hurdle of the Evergreen Conference left me flat on my face as he left the race altogether, I felt utterly bereft and broken.

The week leading up to it had also tried my resilience in another way. I had had conversations earlier in the week with two separate married couples, friends from college, in which I explained to them that I no longer attend church and don't believe in it like I used to, or at all, and proceeded to patiently withstand the rebuttals and questions they couldn't help but level with urgent righteousness to try to slap some sense into me, which I explained I understand and used to do, myself. But with each couple, there was a time when I thought, "This may be our last conversation." But in each case, we left on a friendly note, agreeing to disagree but reaffirming that we still liked each other and respected the good characteristics each had. But since one conversation was Tuesday night, and the other was Wednesday morning, by the time I met up with [him] midday Wednesday, I was emotionally drained and so glad to be with him, where I felt unreserved love and acceptance and open attempts to understand.

I think this compounded my frustration when he turned fully from me to pursue a "new direction" in life, apparently towards the very belief system strictures I've been moving away from and from which he had seemed to be as well. The one I'd felt so safe with had now turned coldly and abruptly away, and I was left behind, confirmed as the sinner who wouldn't "change". More than that, I was weighed down by a sense of weariness that left me wondering if I had foolishly believed in a fantasy that things could all work out for me. Had I imagined myself somewhat as the hero in Wicked, abandoning her quest to change the world in favor of quietly pursuing happiness with her love (OK, so some Wicked songs on my mp3 player yesterday had me thinking about that)? I guess I had started to entertain that notion a bit too much. I had faith in us, so much so that by the end, I had not held on to my heart quite enough to save me from the pain. For various reasons, the breakup left me in pieces.

He lives in different town than I did, and I was passing through on my way northward to see our mutual friend in a play. Being in the town where I had just had my last beautiful day with him less than a week prior was hard, and the new distance between us felt all the harsher as I slept just blocks from his apartment with no certainty that we'd ever see each other speak again. Only a strong conviction, I figured, or at least a strong emotion that felt like conviction, could have compelled such a sudden turnaround for him, and I couldn't fault him for wanting that kind of conviction that feels so good at the time. I can't stand the thought of losing him to some one-sided rhetoric and an emotionally charged weekend hurrah. I can only hope that he had a "spiritual" manifestation at least as strong as any he had regarding us or his previous assurances. He must have. And if he did, then for me to try to talk with him about it in any way other than affirming it makes me a literal enemy of God from his perspective, and who can compete with that? I had to just let go, to let him follow his new direction. I was trapped between the "if you love them, let them go" pain of desolation and the bait of confirming that getting in the way of his exaltation proves I couldn't have truly loved him.

And letting him go, I knew he'd be gaining what I felt I'd been losing this past couple of years, in addition to now losing him. I had known, in the past, what it felt like to be a part of a family of supporters who feel like they know powerful truths nobody else dares to speak. I remembered that feeling, that motivating sense that I was giving up my will to a greater purpose and eternal goal, supported and praised for my conviction and diligence by those who likewise believed joy was found in this particular brand of self-denial and dedication to a more excellent way than mere mortal exaltation-forfeiting contentedness. And his sudden goodbye made me long, in a way, for the kind of camaraderie I knew he'd likely found, for the cheerleaders and sense of grand, overarching purpose he must feel, for the sense of meaning brought about by sacrificing what we had, or thought we had. Because what I was left with was mostly sympathy (even if sincere and heartfelt) from friends who quietly believed he made the doctrinally right choice, the notion that I was a sort of sacrifice left on an altar I don't believe in, and a feeling that we needlessly and senselessly lost a beautiful thing.

In my ache to see some kind of hope in this, or my longing not to let go (of him and of my friends who maintain that the only path to eternal joy is avoidance of all romantic or sexual relationships with members of the same sex), I faced a feeling I hadn't experienced in a long, long time: a desire to believe, to believe that this was for good, that there was some meaning to it, and that I could confidently hope for eternal joy in exchange for the happiness I had lost. That would've made it sufferable or worth the loss. I knew in my mind that this was likely the desperate grasp of the guy who has lost everything, a kind of desire for belief I've never respected much or given much credence to. But I also knew I was feeling some intense emotions and losses, feeling broken to the core, like I'd lost all hope of the happiness I wanted to find and thought I might have found had we continued. I was ready to give up on that road if this is going to be the pattern of it, loss after loss, and was now open to anything. For the first time, I suspect I clearly tasted what the flip-flopping mohos who've baffled me by running in and out of the church have been experiencing all along.

I thought of the fellowship he would enjoy with people I used to feel at home with, but with whom I'd felt increasingly distant due to the new gaps between our beliefs. I imagined "being home" again with them and in the church I used to love, having a community again. I imagined what it would be like to be in his shoes now, confidently starting a journey of self denial and self discovery with the promise of eternal joy and the possibility of the kind of marriage I'd always imagined: procreative, eternal, free of social disapproval, familial strain, or legal limitations. I admittedly fantasized about being able to join him in his journey, to believe again the things which I believed before, to rejoice in each other's prodigal return, in a friendship which could continue in its more eternal form, unfettered by romantic or sexual complication. I could still be with him in that way, in some way, rather than this painfully final-feeling goodbye. I yearned for the confidence that even a lifetime of choosing to be single was exactly what God, if he exists and cares about this in the way LDS doctrine and tradition claim he does, required of me if I never found a woman with whom I could "make it work".

In short, and despite having other good friendships, I still missed the full fellowship I'd had with a few good guys, and I longed to assuage my pain with a belief in a grand, overarching purpose for my loss. Surely this suffering might have meaning. I was a mess of emotions and longing, and I was open to believing there was possibly "more" to my longing than what I'd been able to identify. I felt a powerful drive to go back to the path I'd left, but I knew it would take more than feelings of social ease and belonging, the desire to be near [him], and comforting stories to tell myself about why this loss was worth it. I knew it required being able to set aside the knowledge, questions, and years of church attendance, prayer, and scripture reading with no success in salvaging my "testimony". It required believing that familiar path was a true path, not just an attractive one at the moment.

Tuesday morning (the 21st), in a very humble, almost desperate state of mind, I decided there was no harm in being open to being called back, or to rekindle faith in LDS doctrine or at the very least in a real, personal God. I've always been sure I could comply again with whatever was required if I felt it was true. I drove to the Logan temple to sit on the grounds and reflect. As I walked up the grassy hill, my stomach flipped as I thought, "What if this is it? What if this is where I recommit to the path I used to be on? Am I ready for that?" Looking up at the temple, thinking of what it represents, it felt like a memory, like something you find in storage which you know used to be deeply meaningful to you but which you now feel ready to give away because it's just an object attached to an increasingly distant memory.

Nevertheless, I sat on a stone bench, and I buried my face in my hands as I prayed silently through sobs and sniffles, saying, "I haven't done this in a very long time, and I maybe can't expect to have everything be magically restored, and if you exist you know I doubt your very existence and tend to think of 'you' as 'truth' and 'prayer' as 'meditative, reflective, open thought', but if you are there in the very real sense I used to believe in, please help me. Please help me begin to understand what I'm supposed to do with all of this. Please help me remember what I need to if this is true and whether you would ask of me what he seems to believe you're asking of him. I'll give it. I think you know I will. This has hurt so acutely, but if it's your will, I want to accept that."

I blanked out my thoughts. I pushed out my friends and family. I pushed out church culture. I pushed out my possible 'explanations' for past spiritual experiences. I pushed out thoughts of [him]. I exerted all the effort I could to wipe the slate clean, to 'receive' truth, to extend my energy upward and outward in search of spiritual reception as I used to do so often. I felt a familiar slight chill upon that exertion, a very familiar feeling. But as of yet, no revelations or confirmations to speak of. I felt trepidation and fear as I dared to ask, "If there's something I haven't seen or understood, or which I haven't been prepared to receive, which will be hard for me, please help me prepare or understand. I know I'm a tough sell in some ways, but I have been contrite before, and I feel so now, that old familiar readiness to do whatever it takes, to learn whatever I'm supposed to, so please...I'm open...help me be more open..."

My hands were tired and full of tears. I didn't want to show my puffy, pathetic face to the few passers by entering and leaving the temple, and I wanted to just "listen" for a while. I don't know how long I was there, but I decided to take a break and walk around the grounds once, which I did. And I returned to the bench to listen a while longer. In the end, I said, "OK, not now then. I'm not sure I'm ready to give up, though. I may be back soon. In the meantime, if there's anything you want to reveal, feel free, OK?" I decided I would re-assess a few things, try to be open to the possibilities, take a few steps of my own here and there, and explore my options for re-organizing my life according to some realizations and resignations. It was time to move on in many ways, with or without a divine intervention or manifestation.

Aside from the slight chills which didn't exactly bring fruits of the Spirit, I hadn't noticed any sensations or inspiration, which reminded me of a few things about prayer in the past and realizations I'd had about it. But I still figured I'd not be the proud guy who commanded God to answer me and threw my hands up in atheistic defiance when I didn't experience angelic ministry. And I certainly understand that if God's real, then it's probably not about me giving him another chance, but the other way around. So even though I wasn't about to ignore everything I've thought and felt over the past several years in favor of "wanting" to believe in the midst of an emotional crisis, maybe I'd just leave the jury out a while longer. Certainty, after all, is overrated...isn't it?

Why Wait? (or Homosex...less)

HESITATIONS IN DISCUSSING THE S-WORD

I've hesitated to talk about sexual reservation or experience in a personal sense for various reasons:

• I've not wanted to say I've never done this or that only to turn around the next week (year? decade?) and lose that claim. But let's be honest, I'm a slow mover; that's not a high risk.
• I've not wanted to attract the efforts of those who might try to defile me, and I've not wanted to deter the efforts of those I might want to try to defile me.
• I've not wanted to destroy any ultra-pure perceptions some may have of me by admitting I'm not completely inexperienced in expressing affection or passion in certain ways, but I've not wanted to speak of my experience as if I'm wise in the ways of the flesh, either.
• I've not wanted to make myself sound more or less experienced or repressed than I am because people have such different ideas about what it means to have "crossed boundaries" since everyone's boundaries are slightly different, and goodness knows there are some amusingly creative ways to push bounds without "crossing the line" (remember how Julia Roberts' character in Pretty Woman, a prostitute, never kissed on the lips?).

Ultimately, the details are nobody's business but mine and those with whom I have shared physical affection in whatever form, but for the purposes of this post, I'll give just a brief description of "what base I've been to".



SECOND BASE? MAYBE?

The extent of my romantic physical expression includes the following:

• cuddling (often with intertwined limbs 'cause it's just nicer that way),
• spooning (the watching-a-movie or sleeping kind, not the sex kind),
• what I call "active cuddling" (the somewhat handsy stuff that's not really making out but is certainly getting there, just without kissing or grinding), and
• very occasional (read "maybe two people") "making out" (by which I mean the kind of kissing and touching that is passionate but keeping the man-goods off-limits).

Let's just say nobody has needed to see the bishop. Among my gay friends, they're often surprised how little sexual experience I have and with how few people, especially for a guy at my age.



PRUDISH...

With that background, I'll say that for various reasons, I have personal hesitations around sex. I don't believe this is, contrary to some perceptions, a self-conflicted shame around sexuality or an inability to break from pointlessly puritanical upbringing. Puritanical I may be in some ways, but I see sexual intimacy as beautiful, affectionate, fun, pleasurable, passionate, bonding, etc. I see it as something too intimate and bonding (chemically, emotionally, physically, spiritually) to share within casual or recent attachments which have not reached a genuinely high level of true intimacy, connection, and dedication.



...BUT NOT THAT PRUDISH

It's not that I avoid sexuality at all costs. In fact, I've been a terrible tease in the past, testing my ability to elicit certain responses from people and then being the one to put on the brakes to maintain my boundaries but really enjoying the sexual tension of it all. I've backed off from that, I think, but I won't deny I've done it, and I'm probably lucky I kept my boundaries as well as I did.



PROVING SOMETHING BY WAITING...

No, this is less about repression and more about intimacy, as far as I can tell. Sometimes, I question not only my own motives for being friends or spending a lot of time together but the other person's. I question whether someone is genuinely interested in my personality, my thoughts, my goodness...in short, if they're interested in me and in bringing out the best in each other, being true friends and companions (along with the probably/hopefully very fun sexual benefits), or if they're primarily after something they find intoxicating or physically attractive about me. Mind you, I'm not claiming to have any sort of animal magnetism or irresistible charm. *scoff* Nor am I claiming true romance excludes that intoxicating love and passion. But I do wonder, when people seem interested in me, what it is they're interested in. I wonder if they would be so engaged in my ideas if they weren't curious about what's under the hood. I wonder if we'd feel close to each other if we didn't think there was that unspoken, enticing possibility of making fireworks one day soon. I wonder whether they will give up or put off the pleasure they may want now for a relationship with someone they love. Is it worth it to them? Is it worth it to me?

It's not merely a test. As I see it, it's not about making them "prove it" to me to satisfy some insecurity. It's about both of us showing what is most important and proving the relationship. I figure most people who are willing to hold out are actually interested in the relationship, not mainly in getting their jollies with someone they find attractive.

I suppose some people's way of doing this is to go ahead and have fun, and then if they're still interested once they've had all the fun, they know it's "real"? Perhaps I'm actually making it worse by holding out and maintaining that intense sexual tension and vague anticipation, which makes us feel more interested in each other than we are. But I also think a relationship can only take so much of that before one or both parties say it's not worth the wait and move on. And at least in that case, I'd be able to walk away knowing I didn't give myself over to someone who didn't fully value what I was offering, nor did I take advantage of someone else because they were what was available.



DIFFERENT STROKES...

I've had a couple of friends tell me, "You just ascribe more to this stuff than I do. I can be sexual with someone without it meaning anything. It's just fun." Now, they also later made admissions they either don't think it ever truly means nothing for both people involved (unless they're both to the point where sex is like a handshake) or that physical intimacy just wasn't the same when it wasn't with someone they loved. But others have continued to insist sex is recreational as long as it's not hurting anyone (AKA neither party is cheating on or deceiving their partner). Maybe that's true, but I don't see it that way, and I refuse to numb my sensitivities in that respect for my own or anyone else's comfort, despite it seeming like a truly rational attitude in certain ways.



CONSCIENCE-SAVER?

I have to question how much of that attitude is a conscious-saving disconnect. Sexuality is a heck of a lot of fun. And going without sexual expression is not easy. It's not. No, don't argue with me. I know this because I've done it. I'm doing it. Of course, now that it's been a long time since I actually made out with anyone, it's easier than right after I had. But I've also refrained when it would've been SO easy to move my hand somewhere, or remove an article or two of clothing. And it feels SO good to feel like you're "connecting" with someone, whether or not you think it's a "real" connection, or to experience the racing heartbeat and whatever chemicals are produced in anticipation of sex.

Since it's not easy to go without, a lot of people...well...don't. They "slip up" or they "have some fun" or they "fool around." And rather than let their conscience tell them they're doing something they shouldn't, or thinking about the emotional consequences of their actions on others, they just shrug and say it's all in good fun. But maybe not all. Since I can't get inside anyone's head, I'll just shrug and say I'm not that way, whatever way it is.



VIRGINAL STUBBORNNESS

It's no secret among those closest to me that I am a bit of a prude this way. My frank way of talking sometimes throws people off because they make deductions about me based on my bluntness. I've laughed at more than one shocked expression when someone found out I've only really kissed a couple of people and have never done anything that led to anybody climaxing. I'm not sure if they're shocked because of my age, or the way I talk, or what, but it's funny to see people so flabbergasted.

Yet a prude I remain. I intend to refrain from sexuality until I'm in a relationship in which it is a genuine expression of sincere affection, emotional investment, and vulnerability. And sexuality of the kind I have not yet experienced is definitely for a committed, long-term relationship (marriage perhaps?). And if that means no kinky stuff until at least a year of committed, monogamous relationship, or until marriage, I kinda like that idea. Prove your dedication, baby, and then we'll have some major fun...if my body is still capable of it when such a time ever comes around...if it ever comes around. Wow...I could die an old man virgin. How very tragic.

...OK, so I don't see that as tragic. Despite occasionally lamenting my lost youthful years spent in sexless ignorance, I think I've experienced enough of passion to have an idea of what I'm missing out on, and while it's good stuff, I just think anyone who believes that living without sex is something tragic and awful doesn't live a very rich life, or doesn't know real intimacy independent of sexual relationships. But perhaps that's another post for another time.

Fooling Yourselves

"You're fooling yourself," they say, "You can never be happy in an unnatural relationship. You might feel happy in the moment, and you might think you're in love, but it can't possibly bring you lasting joy. When the giddiness and the excitement of having found someone wear off, where will you be then? What will come of your 'true love'? You know the statistics don't support the success of that kind of relationship, right? They don't last, and if they do, it's in unhealthy ways."

"I'm happy, and I love Chris, and we want to spend our lives together and give ourselves to each other fully. We'd like to form a family."

"Oh, you do not want to bring kids into that. It's not fair to them. They deserve a stable home with a mom and a dad who love each other and stay together. What you're doing is selfish."

"What we're doing is following our hearts and acting on the love we feel and the dedication we want to make to each other. This feels right, it is what makes us happy, and we are willing to defy society's expectations and do what it takes to prove them wrong. We know it's not always going to be sunshine and roses, we know there will be hard times, and we know there will be bumpy roads ahead when infatuation and passion wane and reality sets in. We know a large portion of society will never accept or validate our relationship, but we don't live by polls. We live by what we believe is right and what we feel in our hearts. We're willing to commit 100% to each other because we are in love."

"That's not love, it's a counterfeit. You just want it to be love because you want to justify your actions and live this fantasy someone has convinced you is real. You want everyone to believe you're living an acceptable lifestyle, but it's all about you getting what you want without accepting who you are supposed to be, who you are meant to be."

"Like it or not, believe it or not, we're in love. You didn't have to defend your love to anyone, and I don't have to defend mine to you. I appreciate your concern, but I know what I believe, and I know what's in my heart, and this relationship is what Chris and I believe is the best thing for both of us. We're better together, we bring out the best in each other, we've never been happier, and we're dedicated to each other through thick and thin. When we're emotionally and financially ready, we'd like to bring children into our home and raise them to be good, loving, productive citizens."

You're going to make your own decisions. That's fine. But I just don't think you're being honest with yourself. You're caving to pressure from others like you who aren't being completely honest with you about the reality of relationships like yours. They've put a glossy veneer on it, and you've bought into it. It makes me sad to know that you've allowed them to get into your head and deceive you this way. It's not what you think it's going to be. It can't be. It's based on smoke and mirrors and will most likely end badly. I just don't want to see you hurt...

Not That Simple

Don't mistake my cool-headedness for lack of passion.

Don't confuse my frankness with trust.

Don't confuse my kindness with affection.

Don't mistake my respect for adoration.

Don't confuse my principled approach with lockstep obedience.

Don't interpret my disagreement with your opponent as agreement with you.

Don't mistake my skepticism for disapproval.

Don't mistake my reserved appearance for lack of enthusiasm.

Don't confuse my objectivity with lack of conviction.

Don't mistake my diplomacy for timidity.

Don't interpret my smile and listening ear as naivety.

I could go on, but suffice it to say, it's just not that simple. It never has been.


Addendum: this isn't meant to be a rant. It's just a clarification stemming from a conversation I had with someone over tacos al pastor yesterday and isn't aimed at specific people. I wrote these partially to remind myself that perceptions aren't always what they seem and that if I have such a list, I'd do well to try not to misread others as I have often been misread. "Simple" as that... ;-)

Missing The Same-Sex Marriage Mark (As I See It)

PREACHING TO THE CHOIRS

The same-sex marriage debate continues to floor me in its smoke and mirrors, its straw men, its red herrings. Both sides seem so completely fixated on their perspectives that the debate generally goes nowhere but is focusing on emotional appeals from both sides and only preaches to the respective choirs.



BULLCRAP

Couples are being limited in how they can love and told they're worthless by being denied? Bullcrap.
Moral majority setting rules is what democracy is all about, and if you don't like it, get out? Bullcrap (time marker 7:45).

I call bullcrap all around. We can go back and forth forever. Same-sex marriage proponents seem to believe this is the great civil rights battle of our generation. Same-sex marriage opponents seem to believe this is the great moral battle of our generation.



THE CRUX (AS I SEE IT)

Same-sex marriage proponents declare selective limitation of the right to marry to be an unconstitutional practice and an egregious civil rights violation, not to mention a sign of bigotry and tyranny in our society.

Same-sex marriage opponents declare opening marriage to all consenting adults to be a detriment to the foundation of healthy society and a forced redefinition and breakdown of a time-honored institution for the sake of social validation, not to mention it not being a civil rights issue.

"Wait...what? Not a civil rights issue? How can they say that? Of course it's a civil rights issue." "No, it's not a civil rights issue, it's a moral issue." Here, in the definition of marriage and whether it is, indeed, a civil rights issue (which is debatable depending on your definition of marriage, as is the question of whether marriage is a natural right), is where I think the problem is. If we have two fundamentally disparate definitions of what marriage is, the rest of the debate is mostly useless and superfluous.



WHAT IS "MARRIAGE"?

As I see it, to someone who believes the very word "marriage" is inextricably tied to a usually or ideally religious union of a man and a woman, generally for the purpose of raising a stable family, no matter how much that union has been abused over the years, "marriage" is not merely a civil contract but a moral, religious institution, and a heterosexual one by definition. In that sense, all people have equal access to the union called "marriage" because any gay man is welcome to marry a woman, and any gay woman is welcome to marry a man, if they so choose, as some do. If some feel they couldn't be happy in such a relationship, they are also free to choose not to marry or to enter into another kind of relationship. And from that perspective, marriage is, by its very nature, an institution which is unchangeable and fixed except perhaps by edict directly from God, so even if the word "marriage" is bastardized to include couples for whom it was never intended, it won't be authentic marriage but the government co-opting a religious institution which was never intended to be up for public revision.

As I see it, someone who believes "marriage" is a union by contract of two people who want to bring their resources and lives into one as recognized by society under the law naturally believes that to limit access to such a contract depending on sexual orientation and based on religious belief not only is fundamentally anti-American and a clear violation of civil rights but the terrible tyranny of religious beliefs mixing with government to marginalize those who don't fit an ideological mold. For some of them, their church would "marry" them if their church were allowed to, and they want the government to get out of controlling whom their church chooses to marry. Being "allowed" all the same rights under a civil union, or having a "commitment ceremony", may be nice, but feelings of degradation aside, it's just wrong to deny rights to people based on sexual orientation, and they see "marriage" as such a right.



EMOTIONAL POLITICS

Unfortunately, I'm afraid most people haven't even thought their own stance through to nearly that extent but have responded to emotional arguments. There are so many emotional appeals out there on both sides, and they're mostly irrelevant and specious. People who repeat them sound annoying and foolish after a while as they ring the same tinny bell.

• We're not allowed to love who we want to. What's wrong with love?
• Society will mock our traditional beliefs if gay marriage is allowed.

To me, the most galling examples of this were two ads during the Prop 8 campaign. The first, made by the organization sponsored by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, featured a young man saying if Prop 8 didn't pass, people upholding traditional beliefs would be subjected to social ridicule. I've rarely been so angry at a political statement, and if it's not obvious to you why that's such an offensive thing to say, it's probably not worth putting energy into convincing you. The second was an ad which targeted the church in a completely ridiculous and senselessly inflammatory way, a portrayal so absurd and so reflective of a lack of understanding that it's almost not worth mentioning.



THE (IR)RELEVANCE OF MOTIVES

Emotional appeals aside, there are also arguments for or against based on the motivations for supporting/opposing same-sex marriage.

I've heard from many people, including some gay rights supporters, that the gay marriage debate is not about the right to marry in and of itself but is about social validation and ending bigotry by changing cultural perception through legislation. I don't think any reasonable person would deny that there are activists who are trying to use same-sex marriage as a wedge to gain social acceptance at any social cost (though they may not believe the costs are or would be negative or grave, as many opponents do), but to say that the majority of same-sex marriage supporters are just seeking validation and forcing tolerance and not actually interested in preserving freedom and rights for all is diminutive.

I've also heard from many people, including some religious opponents of same-sex marriage, that opponents are only enforcing their morality on society and that they don't really care whether "equality" is obtained because gay relationships are inferior and unworthy of social recognition. I don't think any reasonable person would deny that there are religious conservatives who don't care whether this is a civil rights issue at all because the social good is what they're after, not equality (though they may believe, as I mentioned, that all have access to marry...someone of the opposite sex), but to claim that all opponents of same-sex marriage are bigots and homophobes and not actually interested in preserving the institution of marriage is diminutive.

Such accusations are, aside from being inflammatory and dismissive, almost entirely irrelevant because if something is right (legally speaking), it's right no matter why some people are pushing it, and if something is wrong, it's wrong no matter why some people are pushing it. If you try to tell me gay marriage should be illegal because gay people don't really want marriage because they don't stay together longer than two years anyway, and if you try to tell me gay marriage should be legal because those who oppose it are bigots, you've made no argument whatsoever. Seriously. You've just told me you're willing to deny rights or change the law based on someone else's motives, not on legal merits.

Where motives do become relevant, in the political arena, is in perceiving where a power grab is masked in championing a good cause. The greatest political players know that to accomplish anything, you have to hide behind heroism and strong ideology. So it's wise to question motives, and it's wiser still to prepare to respond to those and to negate them through negotiation or proposing alternative actions, but it still doesn't change whether something should happen on its own merits. It just means you have to be aware and wise about how legislation is worded and implemented, no matter which side you're on.

For example, most of us agree health care should be reformed, but we're cautious about what will sneak its way in with the reform, so we understandably have taken our time in figuring out what to do. We don't trust each other. We probably shouldn't. But that doesn't mean certain changes shouldn't be made, so we try to move ahead and negotiate and make sure nobody's going to use a good thing to completely overturn our country's foundation, like conservative worry about Obama's proposed health care reform pushing us towards socialism. But...then again, we don't see much open dialog there, either, mostly just all-or-nothing debate. Politics as usual.



ERA ALL OVER?

Speaking of politics as usual, I've heard talk, in relation to the church's involvement with Prop 8, of the church's successful opposition to the Equal Rights Amendment, a position which the church clarifies on its web site as not being against equality for women but against the implications of its wording and the lack of necessity based on other avenues of procuring "equality" while "allowing for natural differences". Today, you'll provoke the ire of many if you voice a belief in inequality of women and men, yet the Equal Rights Amendment is still not part of the U.S. Constitution. Things seem to have worked out fine with women achieving equal status but without the potential mess of the ERA's apparently sloppy or vague wording.

Or, if you flip it around, is it possible that Prop 8 was a sort of counterpart to the ERA: a quick blanket fix without regard to a more gradual, nuanced approach of achieving equality and protecting the rights of religions from government control by instead hastily changing a constitution to achieve the desired effect?



RENDER UNTO CAESAR...

And if we're going to change the constitution anyway, I propose a different change than those attempted thus far: take marriage out. I say if marriage is a religious institution, invented by and managed by "the church", then give it back to the churches, get the state out, and let the government govern the legal rights and obligations of "civil" unions, which would be required completely independent of marriage.

But aside from being very skeptical about our ability to change something that's been such a part of our history from the beginning (I can only imagine the outraged backlash from ultraconservatives, but let them fume), I think the battle would then move to civil unions and the ramifications of legalizing them and placing them on equal footing as heterosexual civil unions. Would adoption agencies not still have the same issues? Would schools not have the same ability to teach homosexuality? ...if those were ever valid arguments, won't they still apply with civil unions? Won't we still have a civil rights debate on our hands...?



THE UNEDUCATED HAVEN'T EARNED A RIGHT TO VOTE

I've heard it argued many times that gay people don't stay together anyway, and when they do, they have open relationships, so why do they even need marriage? It's a "farce", some say, to take gay people at face value when they say they want the right to marry because all they really want is social validation since they obviously don't know the first thing about real commitment. It's ridiculous that they even presume to be capable of marriage, others say (an idea possibly rooted in the belief that homosexuality is a symptom of emotional deficits, sexual disorder, gender role issues, men not being "wired" for monogamy and needing women to tie them down, or some such thing).

Besides, why should the majority of society bow to their whim in wanting marriage by changing the definition that has always existed and been the foundation of functioning society throughout all of recorded history, just so they can "feel" validated, especially when they can have all the same rights through civil unions and other legislation anyway?

To those who view marriage as an inherently male-female institution, this does make sense. To those who view marriage in a different way, somewhat like land ownership or the right to vote, it seems more like a copout reason to withhold rights. Once upon a time, there was no precedent for women to vote, and that was supposedly as it should be because it maintained well-working social structure and roles. Some see marriage as similarly denied based on archaic social constructs. Of course, the comparison runs into problems when sexual orientation is not seen as an innate characteristic, such as gender or ethnicity.

And of course, there may be some who don't care whether marriage is a civil right anyway because the social good overrides civil rights. Perhaps those same people are consistent in their views, such as believing uneducated people shouldn't have a right to vote because they haven't earned that responsibility, and we should therefore identify subsets of society in which lack of education is rampant and remove their right to vote. That argument certainly has been made in the past. But then, the definition of "vote" is pretty clear, so we have the added problem of debating what "marriage" means, whether a religious institution or a civil contract.



MY POINT
...though it may only make sense to me...

My point is that, as I see it, whether traditionalists will be socially ridiculed, and whether gay people are capable of lifelong fidelity, and whether schools will teach gender-neutral sexuality, and whether society "validates" homosexuality, and whether "love" is being denied people, and whether being allowed only civil unions makes people feel "second class" are all specious arguments. They are mostly valid concerns which should be addressed, but they do not make legal arguments as to whether "marriage" should include couples of the same sex. They're all distractions from the real discussion: what marriage is and whether it is a civil right. Everything else, like what ramifications it might have to open it or close it to same sex couples, is secondary and can probably be worked out in the long run.

It seems to me that if marriage is exclusively defined as a religiously ordained institution which is inherently heterosexual by nature, then we already have marriage equality, and any changes really are not issues of civil rights but of simple majority rule deciding whether to "change" the definition of marriage, and all talk of "civil rights" should cease as irrelevant. Perhaps then it'd be time to turn to gaining other rights that, to me, seem more important: employment and housing non-discrimination, domestic partnership rights for financial and medical protection and stewardship, etc. Here I'll admit I think of "marriage" as used in legal framework documents as inherently non-denominational, therefore subject to interpretation, and referring, in law, to civil contract by virtue of separation of church and state, but I also admit I have no formal education to support that view. That being the case, it seems to me that if this definition of marriage is adopted, government should divorce itself from the term "marriage", but we all know that's not likely to happen any time soon.

But if marriage is a civil right, then it seems to me we should grant it to all equally and pass any laws to protect or guard against possible consequences of it, such as those enumerated by Prop 8 supporters. But perhaps I'm deluded and need to face the possibility that even "civil rights" can and should be denied if there is a greater social good to be preserved or established. But that's a pretty scary philosophy, if you ask me, even if it were legal: feeling justified in telling a group they can't have rights you have because you think it's better for the republic that they not.

And if "marriage" is a vague term not well defined and under dispute, then the nation (or the states) probably should define it in its (or their respective) constitutions to clarify its role. Admittedly, if that's the case, then that is quite possibly what happened in California: the majority of the population simply decided marriage meant "man and woman" and is not a "civil right" for any two consenting adults, while the side which lost believed marriage to be a contract and therefore a civil right but were outvoted in their definition of marriage. My problem is that, judging from the scare-tactic ads about homosexuality being taught in schools and churches being forced to perform gay marriages, I seriously doubt most voters ever even considered whether they were removing someone's civil rights, and I suspect many indeed thought they were blocking civil rights for a greater social good, and that bothers me a lot. See, I'm more concerned about why people voted the way they did, on both sides, than which way they voted.

As far as I can tell, whether it's a civil right (or what the definition of "marriage" is) is still being decided and will continue to be decided state-by-state and through court cases nationwide. In the meantime, can't we have more dialog about compromise?

The Flesh is Willing But the Spirit is Appalled

"Dude...are you...?"

"No, no, I just...I was thinking about Eva Mendes in lingerie..."

Don't pretend it hasn't happened to you. Awkward moments caused by unexpected (even unwarranted) physiological "indications" that the body is preparing itself for reproduction-related activities. Yes, for men especially, this difficult-to-disguise indicator can make for a thoroughly embarrassing scenario. But perhaps it's not always indicative as you think, which is my purpose in writing this.

I've had conversations with a few people about this, including a friend I shall call Tommy. Tommy was concerned by accounts he'd heard of guy friends cuddling and one or both experiencing this "at attention" phenomenon. He avoided most such contact partially because he figured if he ever found himself in that situation, he would feel bad, sinful, and dirty. I am not one to tell people to loosen up, sexually. I think most people are plenty loose already, too much so in most cases. But I did see what I considered to be a possibly extreme interpretation, so I challenged it. I know: shocker.

I assured Tommy that the simple fact of that particular part of the body being engorged with blood does not necessarily mean you're up to no good or are engaging in something sinful or wrong. It doesn't even mean you're turned on by that person. He gave me a very confused look and begged some clarification, with a look as if I were fairly crazy or, at the very least, self-deceived. I continued, and the conversation went something like this (with some details filled in from my very vague recollection of the specifics, as this conversation took place a couple of years ago):

"Has that ever happened to you when you weren't engaging in inappropriate behaviors?"

"Yeah."

"Has it happened when you weren't dwelling on titillating daydreams?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Have you ever had something brush you the wrong way and experienced a sudden 'response' from the big guy below?"

"Um..."

There was then an awkward pause in which I wondered if I had just revealed some crazy-strong sex drive I have or an exceptionally 'responsive' physiology, until I remembered I'd already talked to people who agreed this had happened to them plenty. *whew*

He countered, "But those are all things I don't necessarily have control over. If I'm doing something that causes it to happen, and I keep doing it, that's bad. That's sinful to indulge lust like that."

I retorted, "Does that physiological response always indicate lust? What if the vibration of a motorcycle 'caused' it to happen? Would you have to stop riding or go to the bishop for knowingly continuing the activity causing it by driving where you needed to go?"

From his somewhat blank expression, I could tell this was maybe not getting through as I'd hoped, and I was wary of coming up with examples that made it sound like I had a million weird fetishes.

"OK, listen. Sometimes, we think about getting all hot and heavy, and the body responds by getting ready for what it thinks you're anticipating. But the body also experiences external stimuli in certain ways that tell it, whether your emotions and brain are on board or not, that it's time to prepare for certain kinds of activity. It sometimes doesn't seem to matter what the stimulus is: if certain areas get brushed or pressure is applied, especially when you're the type of person who doesn't experience much physical contact to begin with, the body sometimes responds by heightening nerves or pumping blood selectively or whatever the case may be, depending on the stimulus and where it's applied."

I shared an account of just cuddling with a guy friend with whom there wasn't a romantic interest at all and wishing the ol' boy would just settle down because I really didn't want to do anything about it, and I didn't want the other party thinking I wanted to do anything about it. In fact, had the guy tried something, I would've had no problem saying, "Whoa, you need to consult the committee before believing the ol' loose cannon below. He tries to make executive decisions, but the committee usually overrides him."

I also told him about my first "real" massage at a local massage school and how I experienced some degree of 'response' even though the massage therapist, besides being a girl, was not the least bit attractive to me. It was just a natural physiological response that had nothing to do with wanting to get down and dirty. I certainly wasn't about to stop the massage and announce that though I am gay and have absolutely no concern about this becoming a saucy encounter, I mustn't continue an activity which results in blood flow to that particular extremity if my soul was to remain chaste. Junior sometimes just has a mind of his own, and there's not much you can do about it, aside from thinking about dead puppies or Lorena Bobbitt, both of which I did.

Tommy said something like, "OK, I can see that, and I hadn't really thought of it that way. But still, when you're talking about cuddling with a guy, it's pretty likely something more..."

"Well," I replied, "as I said, I've experienced it while cuddling up with a guy who was a friend but for whom I felt no attraction. But yes, it's a little more grey because sometimes you find you're attracted in a moment, and people sometimes fool around even when they're not attracted to each other but just because someone else was available and obviously...ready. So you definitely can't be reckless or complacent about it, and it's good to take an honest look at your motives and avoid pursuing activities which are likely to lead to things you don't want.

"All I'm really saying is:

a) li'l soldier's salute does not necessarily mean you're lusting but is sometimes just physiology at work, and
b) even when it could be construed as a sexual response with someone you may be attracted to, if the act itself is not inherently 'bad', and it's not causing you to feel compelled to do 'more' (in which case you should probably change the situation, especially if there's any risk of reciprocation), you can just look down, laugh at your strong-willed little (relatively speaking, of course) friend who seems to have a mind of his own, shrug it off, and focus on the movie, conversation, or whatever else you should be focusing on besides an incidental and natural physiological process that you needn't do anything with.

"Simple as that."

His reticent face left me wondering how much headway I'd made, and he was beginning to look worn out from processing this perspective. I wasn't interested in pushing someone in the direction of unleashing their inner whore, so we moved on to other topics having nothing to do with anatomy.



Note: for related topics which spurred me to finally finish and publish this post after more than a year, check out Dichotomy and Hidden in the Light.

There Are Better Days Ahead, Self

I recorded an audio journal entry a couple of years ago, not long after pulling back from a sort of messy, very brief semi-dating relationship with a guy. Longish story I'd rather not go into here. Wait...I actually already wrote about it: it's "Story 3" in this post. It's interesting to look back with wonder at how everything felt so poignant at the time, even if that doesn't come across in most of the audio clip.



It's interesting to hear the questions I ask and the hesitation in my wording and questioning myself even as I'm speaking. It's also interesting to hear how gay I sound. *wink* And as for the questions about how things might have happened had he not been a BYU student, I think it would have been about the same, honestly, knowing what I know now.

But the feeling of "breaking up" with someone (deliberately ending a friendship, at least as it had existed) was new to me, as was the degree of passion I'd felt and that feeling of intimacy without any history together, as indicated by my question, "Why did it feel so good [if it was just an infatuation with someone I'd only known for a month]?" Despite knowing, intellectually, I had family members and dear friends who were there for me and who loved me, and I them, I fought strong feelings of loneliness and being unlovable. My emotions would not listen to my brain, which was a strange experience for me. I have more perspective on it now, and though I still care about the guy and consider him a friend even though we're not always in touch, it's hard to imagine feeling so strongly about the whole thing and being so bent out of shape over how it panned out.

I'm very glad I didn't just go pick up a rebound relationship or some hot action to fill the void or distract myself. That would have felt cheap, and it would only have masked the wound. Some insisted I should just move on to someone else to help forget about the pain of losing someone, but I think people who say that just don't know better or regard relationships very differently from how I do. For me to do so, I would've been just a love-starved guy greedily seeking connection or trying uselessly to fill a void by using someone for my own gratification. Not cool, even if the other party wanted to be used. I don't believe in that kind of "relationship".

No matter where I end up going from here, I look back now and tell my two-years-ago-self, "Oh man, this is tough stuff, and it hurts, but even though you're not going to have the answers to all of your questions a year or two from now, the questions themselves will become less trying and painful, and you're going to be feeling much better and stronger. The sharp longing for that kind of connection will soften into a nice hope but will not seem so crucial to your sense of happiness and personal wholeness. And though you're not going to have a romantic companion in life yet in one or two years, that sting of losing someone you've fallen for does go away. The pain of seeing others share the kind of intimacy you wished you could share certainly wains. Your more constant, abiding, and constructive relationships will become more meaningful and fulfilling as you choose to invest in them. And even though you'll still have some hard nights when you wish you had someone to hold or fall asleep with, you will definitely not be feeling lonely the way you do right now." And of course, I'd give me a hug and hold my quietly teary-eyed self while perfectly empathizing.

Homosexuality Eats Shirtless, Foolish Men

I just read one blogger's recounting of Dr. Jeffrey Robinson's story of the dragon. This is a fairly well-known and not-nearly-vague parable of sorts. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any official version of the parable online. I could swear I came across one a couple of years ago; if anyone knows of one, feel free to let me know.

Admitting I have some bias against Dr. Robinson's perspective as I understand it, and at the risk of sounding like a boob who doesn't understand the intricate nuance of the parable, I'm going to say it: I find this illustrative dragon story to be...let's say...flimsy in its application. I think (I hope) some of it is meant to be amusing and a bit whimsical, so my finding it mildly absurd is probably deliberate. I particularly enjoy the bit about the dragon eating a shirtless man. That was hot. Yes, I'm kidding: I have no fixation or fetish around reptilian carnage. But I think the story certainly has some validity. It can help people keep important ideas in mind as they work towards a fulfilling life and learn to interact healthily with cultural constructs and with individuals by employing contextual cognizance about a facet of their lives (sorry, using annoying words haphazardly just seemed the most succinct way to communicate what I wanted to say, which succinctness has now been negated with this note...so moving on). I sincerely mean that. I can't completely discount its value, even if part of me is inclined to poo-poo it.

But as I read this particular retelling of it, I couldn't help but apply it to what I think are equally appropriate, alternate and ironically apostate interpretations of the story. I played "what if" and read it as if "the dragon" were something else entirely: the institutional church. Oh, the apostasy of it all, I know, I know. But I would guess that from the perspective of an ex-mormon (or postmormon, as many prefer to call themselves, such carrying a more "progressive" connotation), it works pretty well. I accordingly borrowed a turn of phrase for my own nefarious devil's advocacy: "People leave homosexuality, but they can't leave it alone." It kind of makes me smile.

Of course, I have my own ideas about much (not all) of "gay culture," as it exists now, being insidiously malignant. I've seen many guys focus singularly on their sexuality, adopting circles of friends or lines of thinking which lead to unhealthy attachments, short-sighted decision-making, and failure-bound relationships, so part of me hopes people will take the parable to heart, to some degree, even if I don't entirely agree with how it's presented, how it's being used, or whether it applies exclusively or necessarily to homoness. Through a clenched jaw, I'll reluctantly say I agree to some extent with Dr. Robinson's dragon analogy. But it ain't gospel. There, I feel better ending with a slight slight.

Whatever your take, I just have to say, "Eat your heart out, dragon-beasty!"

Reinterpretation Gone Wild

What if my patriarchal blessing informs me that, in the Lord's "own due time", I will enter the temple holding the hand of a beautiful princess of Israel and there be sealed into a family of my own?

How am I to interpret it? I mean, if my patriarchal blessing was given by revelation and inspiration, that pretty much seals my fate as ending up in one of those mixed-orientation marriages, doesn't it? You know, "M.O.M.", that thing closeted gay mormons do when they are so self-deceived and selfish as to rope some poor sucker into marriage just so they can adhere to what they believe are truths and covenants which bring joy and blessings far outweighing the promise or happiness any other relationship in this life will offer them. Chumps. No, a MOM obviously isn't in the cards for me because I could never be so cruel, duped, or dishonest as to pursue something that doesn't come naturally. So what else?

Becoming straight isn't an option. Everyone knows that's impossible, and it's blasphemy against sacred gay creeds and doctrine and destructive to gay rights to even acknowledge the possibility. So that can't be it.

Maybe my patriarchal blessing is just the best guess of a perceptive old man or, even worse, just another nasty, cruel joke typical of that hope-destroying, genocidal institution called religion.

These interpretations just weren't sitting well, so I awaited the day when I'd know what it all meant. Over time, I ran across some broader, more open-ended, open-minded views of the gospel, and it dawned on me that I could adopt more open-ended interpretations of my blessing, since the previously mentioned interpretations were so obviously not on the table.

Perhaps my marriage is to take place after this life, and all that hooey about not being a homo after resurrection is true and that's when it will happen, after meeting my eternal companion in the spirit world, where she was waiting for a nice ex-homo to die and be released from his same-sexfulness. No, I don't like that one. I don't want to be "cured". I don't need to be "cured". I'm lovable and capable of finding happiness just as I am, which means I'm absolutely perfect. I have no frailties, just uniqueties. I lack no understanding; it's the oppressors and bigots who are clueless. So that interpretation's out the window, too. Anything else?

Oh! Maybe same-sex couples will be allowed to be sealed in my lifetime, but the patriarch speaks from his own limited, culturally-biased understanding, so though his revelation showed a beautiful same-sex couple entering the temple, he naturally interpreted my partner to be a woman. The gay walk can be deceiving sometimes, and maybe my man will be longer-haired. I could understand the confusion. It's not his fault for getting it wrong.

Or wait! He said my being "sealed into a family of my own" will happen in the Lord's timeline, not the church's, mine, or anyone else's! Surely this means the Lord is waiting for the church to allow same-sex temple sealings, but they obviously are not going to happen in my lifetime. So instead, after my future life partner and I have passed to the next life and left our bodies behind, my partner and I are going to the temple with our proxies, and I am going in swinging spiritual hands with my favorite new mohoney-in-the-flesh, my proxy. After all, it doesn't say I will be sealed to the beautiful woman, just that I'll enter the temple with her and be sealed into my own family. It makes perfect sense! Maybe a female proxy will be allowed because same-sex sealings will be allowed, and society will be more enlightened and therefore genderless. Or maybe same-sex sealings still won't be allowed, but some angels are gonna pull a fast one and trick temple workers into thinking I'm a woman so nobody's the wiser, and they think they're sealing a man and a woman. God moves in mysterious ways, my friends.

Gosh, I kind of hoped I'd be a groom, not a wife, but hey, I'll take what I can get. This changes everything...

Hm, my cheek seems to be full of tongue. How'd that happen?

Have You Ever Noticed...?

...that the guys who are most vocal about fulfillment being found exclusively in a homosexual relationship are often going about homosexual relationships in ways unlikely to be fulfilling in any meaningful way?

Have You Ever Noticed...?

...that the gay guy who has just recently been confronting his homosexuality and proclaims from the rooftops that he has lost all interest in homosexual activity and feels like it's no longer an issue is often fooling around like a queer bunny within a couple of months from declaring his non-homoness?

Strap Me Down!

No, that's not an invitation to get frisky. It's a plea to help me preserve my virtue. I love how these moments come when I'm least expecting it. At a gym in Seattle. Or at BYU concerts. Or at local theater productions. ...I apparently have had it bad. I present the following evidence:


EXHIBIT A - Pretty-eyed gym boy

Working out at a gym on Broadway in Seattle (gay neighborhood) a few weeks back, I was rotating between a couple of machines. While returning to the chest press machine, I stopped upon finding it occupied by a good-looking guy with short brown hair. He pulled out his earphones and said, in an adorably gay but not-too-effeminate way, "Oh, I'm sorry, were you using this?" I smiled and nodded, saying, "Yeah, but I was thinking of using one with more freedom of motion anyway, and you've got it set up already, so don't worry about it." He apologized again, and I went to the machine I'd been thinking about using anyway. As I finished my set, he rounded the corner and, standing near my machine in front of me, waited for me to finish. I pulled out my headphones, and he said, "Hey, I changed it all back to how you had it because I kinda felt bad for taking it from you, so it's ready for you to use if you want to go back." As he said this, I looked into those gorgeously clear, blue eyes which seemed to attest to his sincerity, and I thought, "I think this is where I'm supposed to say you're sweet and you have beautiful eyes and would you like to have dinner sometime?" Instead, I thanked him kindly, and he smiled and sort of hesitated before walking away, possibly because it was obvious I was on the verge of saying something else but held back.

I sat there as he walked away, wondering if that's how it works for most people. I always thought it was weird that people just met each other in random places and asked each other out. I have guy friends who have seen girls on BYU's campus and eventually gotten the nerve to ask them out. Weird, I thought. I would prefer to meet someone through friends. But now I found myself wondering, "What harm would dinner be with someone you met someplace like the gym? At least you know you have one thing in common, to some extent. If it's terrible, you'll probably never see each other again, or even if you do, it's no big deal. It was just one date. And he really did seem like a nice guy. If I were at BYU, and he'd been a girl I was pretty sure was LDS, I would've had the green light from just about anyone. But he's probably not LDS, and those bosoms, though shapely, were definitely not attached to a woman, so many of my family and friends would be decidedly non-excited to here about the nice cutie I met at the gym. Oh well, they're not to blame for my lack of action. I'm a big boy, and I decided that on my own. It just would be nice to think the people I care about would be excited for me meeting potentials, but I understand it would be hard for them to be, and that's gotta be OK. I can't expect them to do all the understanding while I refuse to try to understand their perspective, especially since that's been my perspective, too, and could be again."

But moving on from those heavier aspects, I just smiled that I finally understood the inclination to ask someone out you don't have prior experience with, because their eyes seem sincere, and nice, and they are attractive, and they're obviously at least a little considerate, even if it is just with the hope of winning you over, and you'd like to find out if what you've seen is a facade or if there is someone interesting behind those initial impressions. I told myself, "First, you're just in town temporarily, so there's no point if you're not just looking for some fling or a hot makeout, which you're not, and second, you're not ready to ask out some guy at the gym with all the other stuff that's up in the air right now in your life. File it away, remember it, but don't act on it for now." I sighed and muttered a slightly longing farewell under my breath to the pretty-eyed boy who was now doing splits while stretching in the next room...which caused me to again quickly remind myself of all of my reasons for not pursuing it...while taking a couple of deep, calming breaths.


EXHIBIT B - The Cutie in B18

I went to see a couple of friends perform in a BYU Combined Choirs and Orchestra concert. An old friend from the college years who now lives here accompanied me, and she and I sat on the second row, right towards the middle. As we scooted in past people, I saw that our next-seat neighbor was a rather attractive-looking fellow, but the seat on the other side of him was available, so I figured his wife or girlfriend would be back at any moment. I sat down next to him and noticed he was reading a book. I thought about asking him about the book because it looked non-ridiculous. Then I thought, "No, you're here with a friend, and why strike up a conversation with some strange guy next to you when you haven't even gotten to catch up with her yet like you want to? Besides, would you be asking about the book if you didn't think he was attractive? No, you wouldn't. What are your motives, here?" "Ugh, why do you have to be so practical?" I grumbled to myself. And I turned and talked to my friend.

During the performance, my friend and I enjoyed picking out our favorites from among the men's choirs. Not incessantly. Not derisively. Just comparing notes and preferences. I liked the tall guy with sort of spiky hair near one of my friends and the other Peter Priesthoody one on the right. She liked the short-haired one up towards the back and the muscly one towards the middle. Good times. But more than that, the music was beautiful, and the performances were, as always, polished. Great show. "...maybe that guy next to me is watching his girlfriend or wife, and that's why no girl has come to sit next to him?" I thought. I checked his hand. No ring. "There's hope!" I thought. "No! Stop it. Wishful thinking, dude. He's watching his girlfriend. Stop trying to make every cute guy gay. Besides, look at those socks...he's not gay." Because I'm against stereotyping, right? *rolling eyes at myself*

After intermission, part of the show involved the choirs surrounding the audience. As I scanned my gaze from backwards over my right shoulder back to the stage, I briefly paused the scan on his face to get what glimpse I could more directly...and our eyes met. "OK, what was that? He was totally looking at me when I looked at him. Was that the 'I think you're family' look, or the 'I think you're hot too' look, or the 'stop looking at me, you disgusting homo' look?" I couldn't tell. It had been too brief, though I had to admit it seemed most like the "family-to-family" glance. I had a flashing image of kissing his kissable lips and tracing his jawline...ugh, why? No, bad me. It was a slightly strange experience, sitting there in the concert hall next to an old friend from pre-out days, watching a friend I used to be very attracted to on stage, sitting next to guy I wanted to ask out, with Elder Oaks of the Twelve just a few rows back waiting for a revelation from God that a nearby priesthood holder was lusting after the boy next to him and needed to be stopped by having Sister Susan W. Tanner, also a few rows back, come talk to him about the virtues and beauty of young women. OK, that was it. That was a mood-killer. Leave the BYU boy alone.

As we left, I noticed his white shirt had an embroidered design on it, floral if I remember right. I could still strike up a conversation. The glance, the lack of date, the shirt...no, on second inspection, I decided he was really young for me (not to mention I was probably too old for him to be interested even if he was into dating boys), and I wasn't looking to make new friends, and I certainly wasn't looking to find a date, so I let it go. Then he took out his cell phone and started talking. My friend and I looked at each other in the cattle-drive hallway exit, and we said, "Yup, that just got rid of any doubt." We laughed, and I sighed that the ordeal was finally over.


EXHIBIT C - Shirtless Wonder

I went to a play a friend is in in the Salt Lake area. Now, there were one or two fairly attractive cast members, but one in particular caught my eye. My friend who went to the play with me and I commented to each other that we were trying to decide if he was as attractive as he seemed. I was leaning towards "yes", but I just wasn't sure sometimes if I would think so without the make up and in person. Maybe a different hair cut? I wasn't sure. But one thing I did know: this kid made me wanna make out. A little bit. Then came the shirtless scene. I try not to be shallow. I like to think I'm not too swayed by a hot body. But I turned into a hormonally-crazed teenage boy at the sight of his rather lean, well-formed physique, so much that I held myself back from rushing the stage to get in on the action. I don't know who picked our seats, but I have a bone to pick with them. We were definitely on the wrong side of the stage. Mostly only his back! Why?! "Turn around, dangit! Face us! Up here! No! Writhing on the floor shirtless, all flexing and sweaty, and all I can see is your leg? I was robbed!" OK, it was at this moment of frustration when I realized I was pretty much being ridiculous. My friend ask if he should hose me down to cool me off. I insisted I'd control myself and laughed at myself, thinking, "This is why people tell you you just need to get some action."

After the show was over, I was talking with my friend who was in the show, and he just confirmed that the object of my admiration was actually a really nice guy. Dang it. That never helps. If you tell me he's a dirtbag, I'll just enjoy the eye candy and be done with it, but a nice guy? It's harder to just "get over" nice guys who are hot. But surely he's straight, so that always helps. Except...wait...after the show, there he was wearing...no...jeans that definitely not only showcased his physique rather well but looked decidedly non-hetero. Could we have a not-yet-out one here? I overheard a conversation among cast members about how difficult part of the scene had been when sexy-man was wrestling with this other guy and had pinned him down and... At this moment, the friend I'd gone to the play with leaned in towards me and said, "How're you doing? Doing alright there?" I turned beet red and started laughing at the comedy of what my face might have looked like while I was hearing this and probably subconsciously wishing I were the one getting pinned.

At one point thereafter, I was introduced to sexy-man and his friends, after hesitating but deciding, "What the H, why not say hello and possibly defuse this tension I'm feeling?" I was caught a bit off guard by his enthusiasm in shaking my hand. I tried to tell myself it was all self-flattery, but I could swear his eyes went directly to me, and he nearly knocked over his female friend to reach out for my hand. Friendly guy. Then he asked if he knew me from somewhere. I felt like saying, "Are you coming on to me?" or maybe, "Well, um, not unless you remember me from a couple of hours ago when you were hiding just offstage (above stage, to be exact), and I was looking up and fantasizing about you looking down and making flirtatious eye contact with me..." I know, I'm ridiculous. It was out of control. I wanted to find any sign to confirm he was gay and could be even slightly interested. We had a good, brief chat, and as I drove away from the theater, still cooling down from all that worked up energy, I realized meeting the shirtless wonder had, indeed, defused much of the tension. Thank goodness.


SO WHAT?

What's my point, you ask? I'm not sure. But combine these incidents with the random glances and attractive guys at the cafe, the gym, other theater productions, at friends' gatherings, or in our housing complex (well helloooo, cute neighbor who I could swear couldn't stop smiling slightly for no good reason while talking to me--no, stop, stop making everyone gay and interested), and I've decided: either my resolve is being tested as never before by satanic visions, or this is what happens when you're on your way to becoming a 30-year-old virgin (AKA sexual pressure-cooker), or it's early Spring and everyone's appetites are in full evolutionary swing, particularly mine. All of the above? Ah, hell...strap me down now, please.

Should Faithful LDS Refer to Themselves as "Gay"?

In an online discussion group I'm in, I mentioned that within LDS circles where homosexuality is being discussed (in this case, an online discussion group), faithful LDS people are sometimes (not always, but sometimes) criticized for referring to themselves as "gay" because of the baggage the term "gay" carries and the risk one runs of identifying with a culture that is not supportive of church standards. "George" and "Sasha" responded with reasonable arguments for why throwing around the word "gay" can be problematic. I wrote this response but refrained from posting it because it's long and distracted from the main topic of discussion. My response:


--------------------------
I didn't want to go into this. I am, in fact, tired of going over this, as George pointed out (like the slap of a glove to the face, the punk), but now I feel like my judgment has been challenged by unfortunately intelligent people (*sigh* harder to dismiss) as the result of an incidental mention (can I just go back and use a different example? No? Dang). Admittedly an emotional reaction on my part. So I'm gonna get all defensive here and explain my perspective. I don't do it to convince anyone to use my terminology but to offer perspective on where _I_ am coming from, in the offchance anyone is interested in understanding it a little better. And I figure for every 5-6 times I "just let it go", I'm allowed to spout off. So spout I will.


THEY'RE RIGHT, YADDA YADDA YADDA

I don't dispute the validity of the points George and Sasha made--they are, in fact, quite valid and important to consider and might go overlooked if I were the only person you talked to--even up to perceptions about the word "gay" not coming only from "provincial, conservative Utahns" (something I don't think I even implied and don't believe). George, I think you imply that if everyone were saying "gay this" "gay that", new members who hold very understandable prejudices towards the word would likely feel uncomfortable and leave unless someone took the time to explain to them that here, it doesn't mean "seeking same-sex partnership" or "defying church standards". I agree with that. It's much easier to not have to explain that to them, so we definitely have to be cautious of our wording to ensure that the tone of the community is appropriate to its mission and values. Sasha, I'll address some of your comments below as I go into the more personal aspects of my position.


CHALLENGING PARADIGMS WITH YOUR EXISTENCE

I believe some things are the way they are primarily because nobody has had the energy or desire to change the way they are, to stand up, be counted, and challenge paradigms by one's own existence. I know many active, faithful LDS who have no problem referring to themselves as "gay", except sometimes for the perception others will likely have, which will only ever change if people step forward and redefine it with their own lives.


LETTING IT BE

I just don't think that particular change is important to most people, so that's not a battle they choose to engage in with all the other more important efforts in their lives. So be it. I can respect that and let it be. So please lend me the same respect, and please don't tell me what I should or should not call myself. It pisses me off big time when I can't even mention it in passing without someone calling me on it and trying to prove their point, usually in a group setting where they want to make sure other impressionable people do not commit my same error. I fully understand the desire to be a voice of caution, and I also remind myself that this is simply the annoying risk I assume in choosing to refer to myself as "gay", so I generally try to get over my pissedoffness as quickly as possible, hope that one day things will be different, and move on.


FORMAL WRITING HAS DIFFERENT RULES

In formal writing, especially institutional, it is NOT direct, interpersonal communication with an individual whom people know personally and say, "I know you, and you're not what I think of when I hear 'gay', so I'm beginning to see that word in a different light." No, it's an impersonal forum or audience. I believe that unless you want to take a page to explain your use of the word "gay", the term should generally be avoided to avoid misunderstanding. Until a loaded word ceases to be loaded or cultural understanding of its meaning changes to the point where clarification wouldn't be necessary, an organization such as Evergreen or North Star is wise to avoid using that term where possible to avoid controversy and maintain credibility with those whose support is essential. I think that's why "gay" doesn't turn up much if you search for it on North Star, for example, except in reference to external articles or links.


DOES "GAY" MEAN LEAVING THE CHURCH? CAUSATION VS. CORRELATION

I mentioned that I know a few active, faithful LDS who refer to themselves as "gay" in casual conversation and in private heart-to-hearts (though they won't do so in a private conversation with someone they suspect will disapprove of their using the word "gay" to avoid the debate, myself included), and they have for some time. I've also known many guys who wouldn't call themselves "gay" who've secretly fooled around with men to an astonishing degree when not at church or who've had boyfriend after boyfriend but refused to call them boyfriends. Despite this, I agree--believe it or not--with Sasha's observation that those who retain the term "gay" often are on their way out of the church or are already out, and that those who remain faithful most often (not always) drop the term, at least for a time and often permanently. My experience over the last four years supports the correlation, but I don't believe it's a causation. I think most people, including SSA/gay people, don't look beyond the social stigmas of "gay" to see it as a simple adjective. BECAUSE they are just as steeped in loaded labels as the next person, IF they're calling themselves gay, it's BECAUSE they are beginning to identify with "gay culture", by which I mean nothing more than "those who are seeking or open to same-sex relationships". And IF someone drops the label because they're coming back to church, it's typically BECAUSE they don't care to risk people's judgement (yes, that's an accepted spelling and the one I prefer) or to expend energy or effort trying to redefine the term "gay" for every new acquaintance they make. They'd rather just leave "gay" to the people who fit the currently accepted perceptions and go on with their lives. And let's be honest, being the "gay" guy in the ward might dampen a guy's dating prospects if he hopes to fall in love with and marry a woman someday. So it's not worth it to many people. I think the choice of terminology is often an indicator of attitude but not an actual step in one direction or another.


NEWBIES SHOULD BE CAUTIOUS WITH THE G-WORD

I caution newbies (those recently facing or dealing with their homosexuality) about the ramifications of identifying as "gay" because of the company they're likely to attract or the identifications they may unintentionally make. Referring to myself as "gay" makes me feel no more connected with any particular "gay culture". It's an adjective, a simple descriptor, not a clan. BUT for people who are hungry for belonging, eager to have a group of people who really understand them (we all are to some extent, aren't we?), saying they are "gay" may, in fact, be a powerful alignment and identification with people who "get them". If that means their sense of belonging is found in a community that openly defies church standards, that's problematic for someone who wants to live by church standards. For someone to say they are lefthanded reminds them they are a part of a social minority who do things a little differently. To use more of a label beyond a simple adjective (I see "gay" as a simple adjective more than a cultural label, though I understand I'm probably in the minority), saying I am "LDS" reminds me I'm part of a large body of saints, a family of people who believe in or subscribe to similar doctrine and standards, and that reminder can make me accountable to act more "like a mormon" when I say I'm LDS to others. So I definitely see how the same could go for the word "gay" if the individual regards it as a cultural label.

But for someone with a strong sense of self and confidence in their own identity, and who disregards cultural associations of adjectives and is willing to let people judge them until they get to know them better (which took me a good three years or so to reach where the "gay" label was concerned), and to let those who never do learn better just go on misjudging to their own detriment, I think the situation is different. I support challenging perceptions in healthy or productive ways. To some, it IS worth it to initiate the change.


MATTERS TO SOME, NOT TO OTHERS

Maybe that's where we differ. I don't dispute whether "gay" is a loaded word carrying a lot of worldly baggage most people in the church would rather not have associated with them. But I am interested in changing perception, shifting paradigms bit by bit, by adding my face to the word. Maybe it just doesn't matter to most people if "gay" can include people who are happily married to someone of the opposite sex, or someone who is not open to a same-sex relationship. Maybe most are just happier letting "gay" be what most people think it is and use other terminology to refer to themselves. I totally get that. TOTALLY. I used to be there. Maybe one day, when I'm more faithful again, I'll re-adopt that attitude. It's possible. I don't have a sense of mission or crusade around insisting people call themselves "gay". I just love the fact that, among my friends, everyone knows they can use the word "gay" without it meaning I have sex with men. It's so nice that they don't have to walk on eggshells with me or carefully choose their words to avoid offending me or having me correct them. I believe it can be that way for more people.

Why do I even care about changing people's perceptions of the word "gay"? Is it convenience over saying "same-sex attracted"? Is it because I want to distance myself from the stigma around "SSA"? Is it because I don't want ANOTHER word to describe myself, like SSA, when there's already one I think is equal that more of society accepts and understands? Is it because I'm just plain stubborn? Probably all of the above.


THE STIGMA OF "SSA"

Heh, that said, I do have a bit of a negative gut reaction about referring to myself as "SGA" or even "SSA" because to a lot of people who have been around other "SSA" folks in the past, that means a really conflicted, awkward guy who won't fully admit his attractions because he wants to save face and find an unsuspecting girl he can marry to fulfill his sense of acceptable gender roles and get his ticket to the celestial kingdom to the poor girl's detriment, but in the meantime is "slipping up" with guys left and right, making him more promiscuous than many "gay" people they know. Which is poppycock. While there are some out there who fit that description to some extent, "SSA" doesn't mean that at all. But I still have that association to deal with. So I understand having a gut reaction against certain labels and having logical or cultural reasons for those reactions.

As I said, I also agree with George and Sasha that certain assumptions are also made about the word "gay" that may not be accurate to many or most of us, such as "dates members of the same sex". And there are many other mostly negative characteristics that may be associated with "gay", like promiscuity, substance abuse, lack of standards or morals, shallowness, materialism, etc.

I also recognize that "SSA" isn't the only alternative to "gay" but am using it as an example because I think it's the most-used alternative in LDS circles.


SUBTLETIES OF "SSA" VS "GAY"

I also remind myself that "SSA" (which you will not find in Merriam Webster's dictionary except in association with a shaky government agency) culturally implies someone who is attracted to people of their same sex but probably wishes not to pursue a relationship with such, and I try to get past the many cultural associations that come with it so maybe people will see that not all self-denying homos are neurotic messes like they inaccurately thought. I think to some people, SSA maybe even carries some nuance of a range of emotional and physical attractions subtly connected to the ideas of emotional needs unmet, etc, which play into theories of therapy for homosexuality, so perhaps SSA really is your more accurate choice if that's your perspective. To me, most of that nuance is fluff and isn't inherent or inextricably connected with the label, but to others, it's significant to their understanding and to framing things in a way that works for them in eschewing associations with certain behaviors or groups from which they need to distance themselves to focus on their goals.

"Gay", according to Merriam Webster, means: of, relating to, or characterized by a tendency to direct sexual desire toward another of the same sex. Pretty direct, even if it does use the word "sexual" as if it doesn't include other forms of desire or attraction. Culturally, it does traditionally imply one who is open to pursuing such feelings, but I shrug that off 'cause it's not the definition.

Though I generally choose "gay" in casual conversation, I don't correct people when they call me "SSA", though if they showed any hesitation in knowing how to refer to me, I'll sometimes say, "It's OK to use the word 'gay' with me." And I don't insist that those who prefer to call themselves "SSA" change to referring to themselves as "gay". I realize some do, but I do not.


CONCLUSION AND CONFESSION

Different people just see things differently, and sometimes it's not clearly right or wrong. Institutionally, I think "gay" carries too much baggage for an organization such as North Star or Evergreen to use the word. Individuals within the "LDS SSA" community, however, should use whatever term they feel most comfortable with to describe themselves and should respect other members' choices, which I think most already do. Those who do opt to refer to themselves as "gay" should be able to do so without being corrected or told that when they're more spiritually mature or more faithful, they'll stop using it. Those who refer to themselves as "SSA" should be able to do so without being called self-deceptive or homophobic or told that when they learn to really love themselves, they'll stop using it.

OK, you've heard far more than anyone would want from me by now. And let me be up front: I'm in a pretty questioning phase of life right now. If I were to end up leaving the church, that would confirm Sasha's observations with one more example. Keep that in mind. But I don't think it invalidates what I've said.

Hypersexual Stint

In The Beginning...

When I first started meeting other mohos, it was all level and chill. We got along, no real drama, no pairing off, no awkwardness, mild flirtation was all in good fun. Then along came the one who was more "my type". And I crushed, and he crushed back. There was some pairing off. There was some awkwardness. Flirtation was no longer just fun; it was going somewhere. We decided it couldn't. We backpedaled. We got through it. My first mutual attraction with a guy, but not his. I found it easier to "move on" than he did. I could chalk it up to "I'm new and impressionable." He probably had fallen a little more eyes-wide-open than I had, so even though I truly cared for him, it was somehow easier for me to be pragmatic and practical about it: "we didn't want a relationship anyway, so we just have to turn that part of it off as much as we can."

Moho Supernova

Then I moved to the epicenter: Utah. I went to the Matises' and met dozens of new people, many of them attractive young gay guys close to my age. Go fig. At first, I was very reserved. I didn't know what to expect or whom to be wary of. I stayed a bit aloof, observing. I didn't want to "meet someone" or have another flingy thing. I just wanted to see what it was about, maybe meet some quality friends.

After the first couple of times going to the Matises', and feeling somewhat settled into social circles in Utah, I jumped in and flirted. I realized I could catch some people's attention, so I tried just to see if I was right but wasn't about to do anything about it. I knew people were watching here and there and might think me to be a wolf in sheep's clothing, but I thought, "What's the big deal? Have some fun and relax, and people will see you don't have to be sleeping around to be a little flirty and fun and comfortable with it." It was almost irresistible, this newfound ability to experience and even create sexual tension and flirtatious energy for the sheer fun of it, though I tried not to be whorish about it. I wonder how it was for my more established friends to watch me acting like a kid in a candy store? Were they disgusted? Slightly embarrassed for me? Understood it's just what many of us go through? Whatever they thought, I didn't much care because I was just doing what felt right at the time and enjoying the ride.

Looking back, I think I treated some good relationships dismissively to an extent because I was so distracted by the enjoyment of this enticing, flirty new world that I focused excessive attention on meaningless interactions that weren't going anywhere productive rather than working on developing lasting, meaningful friendships. I've never really been casual about friendships, and I don't think I was even during this more flitting, social butterfly time. But what I have done is ignored the more stable, deeper friendships because I know they'll just be there anyway, and all the new budding friendships (often with a hint of romantic and/or physical attraction) are just so fun that it's hard to resist.

Cuddleslutness

Then of course there was the grand new world of cuddling...with everyone! OK, not everyone. If I was honest with myself, I had to admit that I generally cuddled with people I at least saw as somewhat attractive or adorable. But hey, it's all in good fun, no big deal, as long as it just remains innocent. It felt nice to connect with people in a way I'd never allowed myself to. And I'd never really gotten into much trouble cuddling someone. I could control myself, so others could, too.

In hindsight, there were probably situations in which my cuddle-lust made things awkward for others. I'd cuddle someone in the presence of a friend who wanted to cuddle but wouldn't allow himself, so he may have been quietly tortured. I'd cuddle someone who someone else in the room wished they were cuddling. I'd cuddle someone who felt more of an attraction than I did, challenging them to keep emotions or hands in check while I was blissfully unaware of their conflict. But I was too busy enjoying it to even notice. I like to think I would've cared had I noticed. But I wasn't all about other people and their feelings then, though I've never been totally nonchalant, I don't think. But it was mostly about fun. Besides, what are you going to do? Live in a convent or monastery to avoid emotional awkwardness? No, you adjust and deal with it.

An "Ah-ha"/"Hubba Hubba" Moment

One day, at the gym, I was looking around specifically to find the hotties, to scope out the tightest physiques. No, I intended not to take them home and play with them, and I was not about to pursue anyone in the locker room...ew. But hey, looking and enjoying was another thing, and I did it...almost incessantly. After twenty-some-odd years of forcing myself not to look because it might make me gay, I guess it's natural to soak it up. I don't think I was staring at people like some sort of creep, just taking in eye candy where I saw it and quietly raising an eyebrow or laughing at my own horniness.

I knew, at that time, I felt somehow "different" from how I'd been most of my life. I realized that I was not exactly seeing "people" around me. I was not seeing humanity. I was seeing flesh. Hot, sweaty, sinuous, sexy sexy sexy flesh, sometimes with a cute smile or dreamy eyes to boot. Before I'd "come to terms" with my sexuality and "allowed" myself to look and be attracted, I would look around a room and yes, notice some hotness, but I also focused on the person, who they are, how they acted, whether they seemed nice, genuine, in need, or sincere. If they didn't seem like someone I'd like to get to know, the hotness melted away. Now, I was skipping the eyes and apparent personality traits and going right to the pecs, the hair, the abs, the jawline, the butt... I felt almost perpetually intoxicated with sexuality. And it felt empowering and virile.

Looking Upon the Heart...Or the Butt

I knew, intellectually, that if I was going to find someone with whom to have the quality relationship I really wanted (particularly if it were to be with a girl), I needed to stop looking around with my lustful eyes and starting seeing souls, not just bodies. I needed to look into people's eyes and see who they are, not just at their shapes to see if I wanted to bounce pennies off of them. But despite that intellectual realization, I also realized I finally felt "normal" in a way, and I shrugged and thought, "It's not like I'd ever go fooling around with some random guy from the gym. I'd have to have a real connection of some sort and would still be monogamous. So what's the harm in looking around for the heck of it? I may not be looking beyond the surface most of the time, but I know it's the personality that matters most." But I realized that was something I was now having to force myself to remember instead of it being my natural way of seeing people.

I felt a tinge of disappointment that I might be reducing the people around me to objects of lust just as I'd hated other guys doing most of my life. I could no longer scowl at guys who didn't seem to grasp that a quality relationship does not necessarily begin with "I'd tap that" but instead only look for hotties because I was doing it, myself. Then again, most guys in their twenties probably aren't even interested in healthy relationships. They're interested in playmates and getting laid. Oh my gosh, was I on the path to becoming just another clueless, relationship-stupid dude?

Playing the field is a natural step to getting to know yourself and others and gaining skills for a longer-term relationship, but does playing the field mean dating people based mostly on sex appeal and finding out if they're real people underneath, the reverse of what I'd always thought appropriate? I'm pretty sure playing the field should still be with people you want to talk to, not just lick. But playing the field could include having a little sexual fun along the way, right? And I certainly wasn't getting any younger. Look at me, I'm still alright for my age. It'd be a shame to lose all of my attractive, energetic years without ever putting all of this to use. Am I really going to miss out on experiencing the heights of sexuality until my youth is spent or, worse, I've lost my body entirely? And what if there's nothing after death? And I never experienced that kind of intimacy with someone? Wait, was I really asking myself this? "Who have I become?" I wondered, "Just another guy thinking with his crotch?" And I laughed and shrugged because dang it, after twenty-some years of being so practical, I was allowed a little relaxing of the ol' laces, as long as I didn't ruin my integrity (i.e. act against what I believed for the sake of what I wanted) or hurt people in the process.

Looking For Love In All The Wrong Places

I always knew, in the back of my mind, I did NOT want to become like all these guys I saw around me cruising gay dating sites or MySpace for hours, looking for hot guys I might want to date or hook up with. If I were ever going to date, I wouldn't want to talk about my dates only in terms of how good-looking they are or whether they're good kissers or good in bed (straight and gay guys alike do this) but rather talk about their actual, personal qualities. I did not want to join what seems a frivolous, empty world of models and hook-ups and drunken clubbing and orgies in the mountains. And I couldn't imagine looking at relationships, even casual dating, as anything other than personal and at least somewhat substantive, but I've never been ready to decide to have a "real" relationship, either. That made it tough to even think of having the fun I thought I'd like to have. Curse my inability to be more casual with relationships! Why couldn't I just see making out like I saw flirting: something you do that's fun but doesn't have to go anywhere or involve "real" emotions?

Sobering Up

After a while, probably somewhere around a year, I realized that I was not portraying and magnifying the parts of myself I most valued and respected, and I had "had my fun" enough to sober up a bit. Realizing that I didn't want to dive into the realm of sexual experimentation or actual dating helped me realize there was only so long I could play around before I was known far and wide as nothing but a tease. I was very glad I hadn't crossed certain boundaries in certain moments of abandon that would not have matched the nature of the relationship, even though I had really wanted to. I admit part of me still wonders, "what if I had _____ when I had the chance?" but I'm still glad I didn't, given it might have inaccurately shifted my perceptions, been against my beliefs, and put someone in a tough situation I didn't want him to be in (either ecclesiastical/academic sanctions or lying about it to avoid them).

Stop the Insanity

I started changing my habits, once I was actually ready to let go of the "fun" of them. I flirted less. I had come to realize a couple of things: 1) I flirted as a way of "toying" with the idea of more without actually following through, and 2) some of the people I flirted with actually intended to follow through, unlike me. I decided I didn't want to send signals that misrepresented my own intentions or messed with anyone else's emotions. I'm not on a total flirt fast, mind you, but I am more discriminating. I started cuddling less: physical affection often promotes development of attractions and passions I didn't want to develop, either in myself or in others, unless we intended to do something about it, which I did not. I hadn't been sufficiently sensitive to that. I decided to keep cuddling to a real, friendly expression of affection and connection with people I'd known for a while and with whom I felt fairly certain things wouldn't get complicated. I've fudged that rule here and there, but in general, I'm more judicious. Sometimes, I've momentarily questioned my wisdom when I've passed up the opportunity to be pressed up against hotties I didn't feel close to but who appeared willing. Dang.

I also decided that at the Matises', for example, I'd look for someone who looked sort of quiet and alone, someone I wasn't at all attracted to but who obviously could use someone to talk to them. I used to be so sensitive to the underdog, the outcast, or the shy kid. But I'd gotten caught up in less significant, more self-serving interaction as a habit. I also made a point to reconnect with those people with whom I felt I had related in important ways. And life started feeling more whole again as I started acting not out of attraction but out of compassion and as I tried to not just follow my natural inclination to talk with cute, fun-looking people but to act deliberately and try to find worthwhile, meaningful interaction.

Another "Ah-ha"

Well, the other day, I looked around the gym, and I realized I was seeing people, not shells. Don't get me wrong, I still notice the hotties and bite my knuckle at times. Hey, it's gotta be done. But it's not the same. I think I'm coming to a confluence of the two. Perhaps it's because I never let myself fully jump on the flesh-focus bandwagon and tried to keep that in check. Perhaps it's because I'm feeling in need of quality connection myself and am therefore more sensitive. Perhaps it's because not long ago, I fell for someone I probably wouldn't have looked twice at on the street but for whom I nonetheless felt so much affection and even passion as I got to know him, and it was hit home that I would never trade a person I loved for a shell that turned me on. Perhaps it's just the natural course of things for someone my age, with a decreasing sex drive and diminished "newness" in this whole "Whoa! I'm attracted to men!" thing. But whatever the reasons, it felt really good to feel more human again.

And the Cycle Continues...

I look around and see newbies going through similar phases. We all seem do to it differently and on different timelines. Some seem to embrace the hypersexuality as what they believe they've been all along but were just stifling for the sake of fitting the mold or playing by the rules they never really believed anyway. Some seek out short-term relationships based on a high schoolish, hypersexual approach rather than acting their age and seeking out long-term relationships, even though they claim to want more. Some go full boar into sexual experimentation, sometimes as uber-sluts, sometimes monogamously, and then decide it's not what they really want and go back to a more tempered, personality-focused approach, sometimes with dating guys, sometimes with dating girls, sometimes only with friendships because they aren't ready to decide what to do or have decided to embrace celibacy. Some experiment even less than I did but let loose with flirting and maybe a cuddle here and there, and that's enough for them to figure things out. We all have our processes, I guess.

I do figure I have some more adolescence to work through. Sometimes I wonder whether I have yet to go through more phases, like maybe a "college" phase of sexual adolescence, with more temptation to face, more beliefs to sort out and sift through, and more decisions to make. I just count myself lucky that my sex drive is likely only decreasing from here. As for you late teens or early twenties folks going through all of this, all I can say is good luck, boys.