How not to become the next boy-renting NARTH officer

Hey, listen, it's time to stop fooling yourself. When you're cuddling compulsively (e.g. you can't seem to get enough or are fighting a persistent urge to rip off clothing), that cuddling is most likely a substitute for sex. Sorry to break it to you, but when cuddling is about natural affection and trust in a secure friendship, it's not something you do in lieu of prohibited naked fun. And if you have a perma-stiffy, you might consider either going ahead and just making out (call a spade a spade) or stopping that particular cuddle session before it catches up with you. Blueballing is only one small probable negative consequence. Warping a relationship is another, especially when boundaries and meaning ascribed to the cuddling aren't clearly agreed upon between both parties. But what's most concerning me is learning to justify behavior in a way that masks underlying motives with idealized but inaccurate motives, a skill not smiled upon in politicians or ex-gay therapists caught in sex scandals.

"Well, who's to say one motive is stronger than another? You don't know me."

Come on. Be honest with yourself. You know the difference between cuddling with a child, for example, or a pet, or a friend of the opposite sex, or a friend of the same sex with whom the idea of sex is either comical or extremely awkward, and cuddling with someone you're physically attracted to.

"Well of course it's going to be different, especially if I have unmet emotional needs related to men and can find intimacy and connection in male friendships. Stop trying to sexualize everything. Besides, just because I might get aroused for a moment doesn't mean I actually wanna go at it."

Fair enough. Like I said, only you really know the difference. Just ask yourself: if you're so sure you're just sharing healthy affection with other men, do you have as strong a desire to share that healthy affection with men who are not your type whom you trust and feel close to?

"But what if that's part of my healing? What if I need affirmation from men I find attractive?"

Do you really believe that's what it's about?

"...I'd like to...maybe...OK, probably not."

Thought so.

"But it's really nice, and it's not just a substitute for sex."

No, it's not just a substitute for sex. But look, if you thought it was OK to make out, would you rather be doing that than only cuddling and caressing?

"...No, because I'd have to have a relationship with someone to do that. I've never even kissed someone."

Oh, that's right. Speaking of your incredible ability to not kiss someone even though you've cuddled with someone in nothing but your garment bottoms...

"Hey, how do you know...?"

Oh, honey, let's just say I know very well. It's maybe a little embarrassing, but it's OK. Mohos are amazing at pushing the envelope in creatively chaste ways. Anyway, that caressing business you do: I get that it's sometimes completely benign and purely affectionate (e.g. arms, hands, scalp massage, back tickling). But when you're caressing each other's inner thigh or bare chest and teasing the underwear waistband by slipping your fingers barely under the edge...well, let me just put it this way: would you do that to your female friend?

"Well, you can't honestly expect me to draw a direct comparison. There are things guys just 'get', and we know each other, and they don't have anything I don't. I mean, I wouldn't shower with my female friends, but that doesn't mean showering with my male friends is sexual."

OK, then maybe consider whether you'd be at all disturbed if you saw two brothers doing it? Anyway, here, let me show you what I know now with another four years of physical intimacy experience under my belt...eh, you know what I mean. OK, now you've kissed someone and all that jazz. What's your answer about whether you'd rather be making out if you thought it were OK?

"Hm...yeah, OK, when I'm honest with myself, I probably would want to make out with at least these two cuddle buddies..."

I'm not saying that any time you get briefly aroused, it means you're just after sex. And I'm not saying you should merely obey your body's lusts. I believe it's good and right to learn to rein your appetites. I believe that particular member sometimes briefly responds to stimuli in its own way. And I certainly don't believe every attraction or affection has a raging undercurrent of sexual desire. I'm just saying the next time you're being physically affectionate with someone you find attractive, consider thinking, "Hey, do we have a close enough friendship for this cuddling to be genuinely trust- and affection-based? If we thought it was OK, would we go for it? If you were absolutely not my type, would I still want to cuddle? Am I mostly kinda hot to trot, and your body feels nice against mine?" There's nothing wrong with admitting it's mostly a physical thing, but I think your cuddle partner should be on the same page to avoid probable messes...pardon the wording.

I'm just concerned that the longer you keep basically using cuddling as a substitute for 'more', the less likely you'll be to really, honestly identify your motives in potentially conflicting situations. I'm worried that some or much of your caressing and holding is an expression of your desire for romantic and sexual intimacy, but you're refusing to recognize that and masking it with an effort to revolutionize male intimacy. That's probably very true for certain of your friendships, but by projecting the innocence of some cases onto all, you may make abnormal behavior or behavior inconsistent with a relationship into something normal in your head, and that's troublesome territory.

I'm also afraid you run the risk of using cuddling and caressing in a way which isn't 'breaking any commandments' but mostly just puts off actually making a decision about what you're going to do with all of this homosexuality and religion conflict you have. It's like you're keeping the religion part and following the rules but in a way that is partially lust behind a mask of affection and intimacy, the exact opposite of what you actually think you're accomplishing.

Short version: I think you're becoming a cuddle slut.

"OK, OK, I see what you're getting at. I do generally want to cuddle the hottest guys the most, and if we both believed differently, I'd probably just wanna go at it sometimes, so I'll try to be more aware of that. But...I have some friends who are totally physically attractive, but I'm not at all attracted to them in 'that' way. Can I still cuddle them?"

Of course. I remember what it's like to believe you're never going to be allowed sexual 'fun' with another guy and how much that can affect your desire to have what physical affection you can, no matter how sexually repressed the motives. Besides...y'know...none of us is perfect.

"Wait...have you cuddled with someone you mainly wanted to get freaky with or didn't necessarily have reason to trust intimately?"

...Yeah, cuddle...um...we're not talking about me. We're talking about you.

Why I've chosen to test, not abandon, friendships

When I realized I no longer believed in the tenets and doctrines of the LDS Church as I used to (the stories and explanations, not the values, which I still mostly share), or that I wasn't sure I believed in them at all anymore, many crises presented themselves, not least of which was a complete shift in my social interactions and change in my relationships among those closest to me.

I was going from, "I have so much respect for the fact that even if it's not always comfortable, you continue in the church and take each day on faith. I don't know if I'd get through what you're going through with such faith, and it's so inspiring that you do," to, "I'm so sad and disappointed that you've given up. You're forfeiting celestial glory and eternal life by overthinking your way out of the church. It's just hard to see you throwing it all away instead of hanging in there." I also went from sharing this part of my life which had been most important to me to not relating on this new level with most people I was close to and not knowing who to talk with about it. I wondered if I was necessarily going to eventually be pretty sure most people in my life believed a fantasy. How would our relationships adapt to this new dissonance?

Since late high school, my social life and friendship circles were developed within the church and its many programs and organizations. I worked at various places, and I volunteered with other organizations, but I had so many friends within the church that I never felt much need to seek friendships elsewhere, and I didn't. Over 90% of my Facebook friends are or have been LDS. My closest friends were active in the church, and not just the active-by-default kind or the "you can't take it all too seriously" kind but the deliberately active and consciously engaged kind. As much as I wanted to make sure I wouldn't leave the church as the result of social issues or interpersonal conflict ("the people are imperfect, not the doctrine," I always said), I realized that I was at a turning point where if I were to stay in the church, the reasons would be primarily social. I had a very difficult decision to make, but I had put off the doubts and tried to quell them for many years, and the reality of that hit hard.

I resigned any leadership in church-affirming or church-affiliated organizations as soon as I realized this. I was not about to cling to the feeling that I was useful and contributing while quietly disagreeing with mission and values statements and wondering if I even believed in God anything like the way I always had, or at all. I was not going to try to change any organization into what I thought it should be when my beliefs were increasingly in conflict with those the organizations had espoused all along. And I didn't want to cause some scandal by being an apostate in leadership and thereby unduly discredit those organizations in any way. I'd rather leave some distance between the time I stopped serving and the time I really walked away, if that's where I was headed. I believed I needed to diminish for a time while wrestling with these questions and determining my way forward without unnecessary political and social expectations and external pressures. I'd moved along with those quite long enough to satisfy myself that they were not going to keep me afloat, that I had internal conflicts to resolve now with or without those attachments. In my case, I believe integrity demanded I step down and step back.

Similarly, a temptation was to isolate completely from those who still subscribed to church doctrine. I no longer belonged among them or shared what we'd always shared, and my presence would be regarded as a "negative influence" by some. Additionally, I knew what my 8-years-ago self would tell my today-self, and I didn't care to hear it from everyone else trying to talk some spiritual sense into me. I also didn't want to unnecessarily affect anyone else. What if, a year or four from now, I decided I was wrong and went back to the church? What if, during that time, I had "led many astray" by my example and doubts and might later regret it? No, better to keep it mostly internal except when pressed. After all, I felt like the kind of clarity and epiphanies I was having were sparked by others who sincerely shared with me what they'd been going through. I had been a missionary and tried to help people gain a conviction of LDS doctrine. Did I regret that? Maybe in a way, but it's what I honestly believed, so it's hard to really regret something I did in full sincerity. "OK, then," I thought, "as long as I'm being honest and sincere about it, I'll share when asked." But I didn't want to have the conversation constantly, so I was careful how I talked about it to avoid eliciting probing questions unnecessarily.

It really was a "spiritual walkabout" of sorts, and I found most people respected that and didn't try to interfere. Some did, probably out of a desire to save me from withering as a coal removed from the fire, but it fell flat. Their language and demeanor reflected a lack of real understanding of what I was going through. Those who seemed to "get it", even if they'd become faithful again, understood that I knew the arguments against what I was doing and had made them effectively, myself, and this was my journey alone to navigate. Typically, their preaching amounted to, "Don't shut out the Spirit. Stay open." I could handle that.

It was challenging, at first, to maintain contact with my LDS friends. When you're going through a transition in life or trying to make changes you believe are positive and necessary, and the people you've surrounded yourself with are not on board, they can hold you back from that process, especially if they've never been through it quite the way you have. The easy answer is to push them all away, freeing yourself up to pursue your new direction without the baggage and weight of opposition and emotional pleas to "come back to the fold" and be saved. But I saw a problem in that notion.

If I was truly making the right choice, then I should not be threatened by opposing views. And if I alienated all of them, I'd be left quite alone and therefore either artificially lonely and sad (which would be a product of the social isolation but would conveniently be explained by some as 'spiritual decay') or needing social interaction so badly that I might fill the void with shallower, shinier friendships with people who may or may not actually care about my personal welfare. At my age, starting all friendships from scratch seems a really unpleasant endeavor and one I'd rather not undertake. Besides, if I was going in a good direction, and my relationships were built on more than certain common beliefs but were actually personal, intimate connections, they should be able to weather these changes. If I was going in a bad direction, I wouldn't have alienated everyone who would be there to help me get back up and dust myself off. And maybe there's value in letting them see more of the journey rather than fleeing and making it easy for those left behind to assume the wicked cannot abide the company of the righteous, or my conscience couldn't withstand the reminders. Maybe there's value in acknowledging that if this is right, they might benefit from seeing that I'm still me and still happy, and if it's wrong, I might benefit from knowing they'll be able to call my B.S. if I try to put on a happy mask. Besides, I cared about my friends, still, and believed they cared about me. So though I did withdraw from a few social circles where the group bonding was stronger than my individual relationships within the group, I chose to test my closer friendships rather than abandon them, even if I did distance myself in some ways for at least a time. I'm happy to say my close friendships have persisted.

That's not to say it's been easy. Hay-ul no, not nearly. Even though it was painful for me to see people hurt over my decisions and beliefs, and they were clearly struggling to adjust to a new way of viewing me, I was happy to find that most of the people I considered true friends walked with me when possible, and still allowed me to walk with them, and we've made the adjustments together, sometimes smoothly, sometimes roughly. Many are still adjusting. A few not-as-close friendships haven't weathered the change. I harbor relatively few hard feelings for those: I knew what those friendships were all along, and they weren't the kind of relationship to weather this, so I couldn't expect anything different.

The pleasant surprise has been that some have quietly come to me confessing that they've been through similar, and we've rekindled old bonds. Some have come to me confessing that they've never told anyone this, but they've not believed for years but carry on playing the role because that's what they contracted to do when they married, and they don't want to upset their children's lives unnecessarily by risking divorce or rocking the boat. Some friends of other belief systems have come back, and I've been able to see more completely beyond the "non-LDS" barricade I didn't realize I had put up. Many, more than I expected, have admitted to being somewhat or very "agnostic" in their faith, admitting they don't "know" it's true but hope it is, or that they firmly believe in the core of the gospel and very much see an evolving doctrine around that core, and many of these have "come out agnostic".

It's been stressful, which is another topic I intend to post about. But it's been good. And I feel more stable and "at peace" than maybe ever, despite obvious stresses in my life. That may be because I've stubbornly eliminated a doctrinal framework that conflicts with my natural man, and it may be because the world and universe make more sense to me now than ever or that I'm not trying to cling to false beliefs, and new or conflicting ideas don't cause the tension in me that they used to. Come what may, I hope to find and embrace truth. I'm no fount of bubbly happiness, but I feel as happy as ever. Perhaps it's not an "eternal joy" of the kind I used to experience and have, over the years, forgotten as a distant memory. Or perhaps it's a more sustainable joy from within and not based on what may be myth. Maybe I've learned a kind of happiness that I needed to, and one day I'll bring the LDS "gospel" back into the picture, and the combination will be greater joy than I've ever known. Or maybe I'll find a wonderful man and adopt children and have more joy than I thought possible. Who knows? Not me, and not you. But we can probably still be friends.

Moho self-absorption

Many of my straight/hetero friends have met many of my gay/SSA friends. They most often really like each other or at least get along fine. But if there's one thing my straight friends have most noted about the mohos, as opposed to other gay or straight friends they have, it's that they seem unusually self-absorbed. And they're not just talking about the self-denying ones or the newbies who are in their early stages of gay adolescence. I want to make it clear that these same friends have made it clear they genuinely like many of my moho friends and think they're nice, or fun, or accomplished, or whatever. But there's just a sort of lack of outward-reaching interest beyond occasional token gestures. And some of that can come from things like shyness of mohos around certain of my friends, or being new to hanging out with people they can be open around, or whatever. But I've heard it enough that it's given me pause on a few occasions.

I can't deny it. That's not to say we don't care about anyone but ourselves. Usually quite the contrary, I think, though there are clearly exceptions. It's not to say we're self-centered in the sense that we only think of ourselves in making decisions, harming others with behaviors in selfish abandon. There are as many of those as in any other crowd, but I'm not sure there are any more so, and where there are, they shouldn't get a free pass. And let's be honest, we're still (mostly) guys, and guys often aren't as great at showing interest as girls in general. And yes, sometimes the collective voices of blogs or discussion groups take on an overpoweringly "woe is me" tone, which is probably not productive and can be annoying. But what I think they mean is that many individuals tend to be very caught up, in our heads and in conversation in groups, in figuring ourselves out, resolving our internal conflicts, deciding what path to follow, and doing what it takes to follow the path we've chosen which, either way, is often a non-negligible effort to shift certain paradigms and deal with severe social and internal consequences and stress, and it comes across as disinterest in anything outside of our immediate sphere of mohodom.

Unfortunately, I think it's that conflict or ongoing effort to maintain a perspective and help others to do so (an indicator that it really is no casual effort and requires more than praying and fasting away the gay or more than fooling around with your first crush and calling it a relationship), combined with 'fighting' and 'striving' to be a certain kind of man or woman, combined with possible years of feeling inadequate, incomplete, assaulted (by one side or another) broken, or sinful which often overshadows what would otherwise be a very sensitive, perceptive, affirming personality. In a way, it seems tragic to me. But in a way, it can be a growing process which may eventually lead to a more whole, confident, re-integrated person in the long run...hopefully...and hopefully without losing the unique parts of one's personality which have set him or her apart from others.

So to those who seem bent on harping on mohos for self-absorption, I say fine: you may be right. But you don't get to do that and harp on them to comply with what you think they should be doing with their lives. You don't get to add to the chorus of voices telling them how to live and then harp on them for being caught up or nearly obsessive in trying to take your commandments seriously and finding it far more difficult than maybe you've ever known it to be. If you're doing both, go find a carbon copy of yourself to abuse. You're a tyrannical ass, and it shows in your eyes. You probably know your hypocrisy and dishonesty, somewhere deep inside of you, which is what makes you so cold.

To the rest of you, please forgive your moho if he or she seems a bit self-absorbed at times. Help them come outside of their 'struggle' or efforts sometimes, constructively reminding them that you want and need their interest and attention sometimes, too, appealing to what may be their actual natural tendency to care about others rather than scolding them for being something bad and uncaring. But allow them some time to ruminate and to process as well. This is tough stuff for many, whether or not you think it 'should be' and they should just buck up or just follow the prophet or just embrace their gayness. Unfortunately, they're often in a conflict between their most prominent or even cherished beliefs and one of the most powerful human emotional drives--that of (emotionally and physically) intimate companionship--and it's causing them a great deal of dissonance and necessary personal adjustment, even after heading down one path or another. Many of them eventually figure out a satisfactory balance which allows them to carry on. Some take a long time, others less so.

There are some who completely eschew all gay influences in their lives and try to just live on their own, forging a life of heteronormativity the best they know how, and they may succeed, at least for a time. Others may have left the church when they're young and have developed relatively normally within social circles which unquestioningly accept their homosexuality and don't constantly remind them that they've chosen to forfeit Celestial Glory. Either of these are probably less self-absorbed in the way most mohos are, but they've distanced themselves from conflicting voices, an option which may not be available, desirable, or right to many mohos, especially those who come to terms with things later in life.

Some are actively involved with the church and have a supportive community of friends who share their challenge and want to similarly live the standards of the church. Some will marry, others won't. Either way, their friends will have ups and downs and will need each other for support and simply can't go back to the notion that you're better off shoving it all under the rug and isolating yourself from those who personally understand what you're going through...they've seen that as a path which worked for a while but which stifled their true potential and emotional connection with their spouses or others in their life. As such, even among those who are firm and unyielding in their path, there will be exposure to doubts from friends questioning whether it's all worth it, whether the Lord would understand if they just found a same-sex partner for this life and left the rest to be resolved in the next, repenting for slipping up again, or simply needing an emotional recharge from trusted male friends who know what they've been through.

I do have moho friends I would consider not self-absorbed at all, at least no more than anyone else in or out of the church. It's not everyone.

But it may be me. At least sometimes. And when I realize it, I try to focus more outwardly, let go of the conflict or needing to decide where I'm headed and what, exactly, it entails, and see where I can respond to the needs of or learn about the interests of others, getting outside of myself. There's a balance. And maybe at times I will have to quiet the voices on one side or another...or both, in order to sort out my own way.

My friends have often followed up their observations of self-absorption with something like, "I just wish they showed more personal interest in things other than their own struggle and social circles, but despite my own challenges in life, I can't imagine what mohos go through, trying to reconcile all of that, so it's hard to fault them too much." I've appreciated that. And it makes me want to make sure I'm that much less self-absorbed, or more outward-reaching, so I don't take that kind of friendship for granted.

Touch me healthily

Note: for the "short version", skip to the bolded paragraph of questions. That's what this post started with. It became a monster. Not my fault. It's just what my sometimes hyperactive brain does. I'm genetically programmed this way, and I wouldn't change it if there were a pill, so there.


SHUT UP AND HOLD ME

OK, I have my fair share of thoughts on the theories of holding therapy or "healthy touch" as it relates to therapy of homosexuality (as opposed to "healthy touch" for victims of physical abuse or therapeutic holding for those with attachment disorders, for example, although I'd guess they're all related to theories of underlying developmental causes of homosexuality), as far as I understand it, which, I've found, is at least considerably more than the average skeptic, most of whom think it's totally nutty when they hear about it, so they don't bother to learn any more.


YOU WANNA TOUCH MY WHAT?

First of all, as far as I know, when done in the "correct" therapeutic way, "healthy touch" or "therapeutic holding" is done with clothing on, is done with at least one objective third party present and with full knowledge of any spouses, doesn't include laying down together in bed, is more about embracing than caressing, is just part of a larger, concerted whole effort to connect with and affirm one's own latent masculine identity, is supposed to include a sort of father-surrogate role for the holder, ideally a straight man (I've heard of a couple who have actually been willing to help a buddy out in that way), etc. It's not the same as cuddling with someone you feel affection for, even without the feelings of attraction by which most of us are motivated to cuddle with someone.


GOTTA BE HONEST: I MISS MY VERSION OF HEALTHY TOUCH

I've said before that I've had friends I trusted and had no attraction to with whom I've cuddled, or who have held me, or I them, in difficult times or just to express affection and trust. As I've had experiences where I've discovered not everyone is good at separating physical contact from sexual urges, I've backed away, but to be frank, I do miss having friends I can just rest my head on or snuggle up with to watch a movie. I do still have friends I can kinda do that with, but they're relatively few, and experience has brought caution, and I miss the broader innocence of what I saw as non-sexual affection, my own perception of healthy touch. I think the world could benefit a lot from more physical connection without always interweaving sexuality into it. There's something calming and reassuring about knowing you can literally lean on someone you trust and give or receive supportive affection without sexual tension or suspicion of motives. It could be a female friend or a guy friend, but there's something about it being a guy friend that's just more...comfortable...or comforting?

I know. Some of you are thinking "HELLO THAT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE GAY!" But I'm not sure that simple statement explains it, if what you're implying is I like it more because I fall for guys because some of the friends I've been affectionate with are those I've not been the least bit attracted to physically. It's been more of a brotherly thing. And yes, I've known a couple of guys who were affectionate with their brothers...though spooning was probably not part of that, let's be honest.


AH-HA! YOU JUST CONFIRMED REPARATIVE THEORY!

Reparatives might jump on this and say it makes total sense that I'd feel more secure and fulfilled cuddling with guys because it has to do with my underlying need for male attachment which wasn't met in "normal" ways, the same developmental hiccup which led to the sexualization of that need: homosexuality. And then I'm supposed to say, "Oh my gosh...that so makes sense! That's why I want non-sexual affection from guys I trust!"

But I can't help but wonder: do straight guys sometimes like to be close to female friends for whom they don't feel sexual attraction? What about if they're the kinda guy who doesn't think he's allowed to think about a girl sexually, let alone touch her? And assuming they're not all weird about homophobia, do they find the same kind of comfort in physical expressions of affection with guy friends, or is a nice cuddle with a female just...different? Female friends are more physically expressive with their affection towards each other. Is cuddling with a guy friend different for them even when they're not attracted?


THE QUESTIONS THAT GOT THIS WHOLE, LONG POST STARTED: WHAT IF YOU PUT A STRAIGHT GUY THROUGH HOLDING THERAPY?

And I've always speculated: what if you take a pent-up straight guy, tell him his strong sexual urges towards girls are based on unmet feminine connection, tell him he needs to surrender to his need for the love and affirmation of women when he's felt rejected by women his whole life, have him hold and be held by women, some not so attractive, some smokin' hot, tell him it's natural that he should get an erection but "what goes up must come down" but that his response will decrease as he gets used to the experience, and he needs to just experience the affirmative and supportive contact and let his defenses down and just take in the affirming energy this woman is giving him, breaking down into tears if necessary over the years of rejection and resentment? Would he experience great healing and confidence from this, not to mention demystifying and desexualizing physical contact with women? Wouldn't he experience a healthier sense of sexuality and diminished cravings for physical contact with women if he knew he was going to regularly have these intimate holding sessions with women which taught him to see them as people with whom to connect rather than as sexual objects?


EVEN IF IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH BECOMING STRAIGHT

I'm not saying "healthy touch" is useless: I'm just saying...I think it's more of a mindtrick or filler than therapy. The difference between me and most poopoo-ers of holding therapy is that I say, "Yeah, I don't think it's making anyone less gay, but if it's a tool that helps someone live more happily in his marriage or keeps a guy from tapping his foot in bathroom stalls or helps someone focus on finding a wife rather than dating guys, and his wife (if he has one) isn't threatened by it and supports him doing it, then why concern myself with it? Even if I don't believe it's doing what he thinks it's doing, and even if he keeps doing it his whole life rather than having the therapy just work and fulfill him, if it's helping him live happily with what he believes to be absolute truth, then why should he stop?"


BUT BUT BUT...

Of course, those who've bought into it and believed the stories from its practitioners about it diminishing their homosexuality and/or developing their masculinity and heterosexuality and only to look back years later regretting they convinced themselves of something which wasn't true after all, might have just cause to raise caution to others they don't want to see waste their time like they did. And I've gotta be honest, it grosses me out to think someone I loved and saw myself potentially having a great relationship with might trade our companionship, affection, commitment, mutual improvement, and investment for a possible lifetime of what might be substitutional coping mechanisms, including holding therapy, just in order to live a heterosexuality-congruent lifestyle.

But hey, if a guy truly believes that a same-sex relationship is absolutely not an option for him, for personal or religious reasons, or he believes he has unmet needs which are fulfilled by holding and other therapy, and regular therapy and/or holding brings him greater peace in his marriage or search thereof and confidence as a current or prospective husband and father regardless of whether he's any more heterosexual overall than he used to be, then I have to set aside my dismay. I have to set aside the nagging thoughts, "But I would have fulfilled that for you along with all the love I could offer and a possible lifetime of joy together as productive partners and parents without the need for holding therapy if only you had been able to believe it was right."

And then there's the fact that I've always (well, in adulthood, at least) believed partners or spouses rarely if ever are or have been absolutely everything to each other anyway. To expect your spouse to fulfill every single one of your needs is unfair and unrealistic, I think. Men usually still need time with the guys. Women usually still need ladies' nights. Even in a gay partnership, I think I'd still want my guys' nights alone with buddies sometimes. There are emotional benefits to having various relationships of different kinds, and what one couple may find in each other, another must seek in good friendships to find their balance.

And yeah, it's "weird" for most of us to think of people "getting their needs met" through physical affection outside of their marriage. I think most women would not be OK with their husbands going to even chaperoned "holding nights" where they'd be essentially cuddling with other women, nor would husbands be keen on their wives going to a holding group with a bunch of men, but the comparison isn't direct, and the situation for a marriage involving at least one same-sex attracted spouse is unique. So isn't that really up to the couple and their own assessment of what will make their marriage successful? Who am I to question their own, personal, uniquely tailored pursuit of happiness?


OK, O-MO, SO YOU SUPPORT 'HEALTHY TOUCH'?

As a method of increasing one's straightness, I think it's mostly bunk. As some sort of healing connection with one's own latent but damaged masculinity, I think it's mostly bunk. As a "safe" way of finding some affection and connection with trusted men without resorting to sex when a guy believes he is to refrain completely from any romantic or sexual involvement with other men, I think you should portray it as a sexual repression defuser or male affection session rather than trying to claim it's a straightening practice 'cause I know of just one part of you it's likely to straighten, and the rest...well...I can't presume to know any better than the guy who does it whether he's any less "gay", but let's just say I don't see a lot of guys finding their heterosexuality and leaving the holding therapy. I know several guys who have been to Journey Into Manhood weekends and recommend them who say they enjoy healthy touch and "feel better and more centered" after it but don't believe it has anything to do with making anyone straight.

But as a way to fulfill certain drives for affection or trust- and friendship-based intimacy in a safe way to reduce stress from sexual appetites or even tension around your self-perceptions and confidence, if it works for you, and it's done "correctly", and if your spouse--if you're married--supports it, I've gotta say I'm OK with it even if it does seem odd to people who don't agree with religious beliefs against homosexual relationships that anyone would "need" to do that rather than just pursuing a relationship which wholly fulfills that need. Religious conviction about the sinfulness of all same-sex relationships is powerful, and you're not going to just change someone's mind about that, so they're going to do whatever it takes, even things you think are "weird", to live within that context, and hey, if it's that or not finding ways to live within their self-imposed boundaries, why not let them do the best they know how?

As I said, even if it is a mind trick rather than actual therapy, a mind trick that helps you find temporary confidence and connection and reduced anxiety is probably better than living without anything to cope, right? Or would you rather they suffer in order to "recognize" what they're denying themselves of and date men, thereby validating your decision to do so or reducing the confusion of outsiders who don't understand that these men aren't really, truly straight, so they stop hounding you to do the same with statements like, "If only you tried like so-and-so does..." I think there are other ways of learning confidence, masculine identification (if that's necessary for mental health), interpersonal intimacy, and anxiety reduction more permanently, but gosh, until you've found those, I'm not comfortable telling anyone to refrain from doing...whatever works and doesn't harm anyone else.

Thoughts? Research? References?

The grandeur of celibacy

Note: These thoughts were sparked while reading an early post from a blog which sounds like me ten years ago (almost eerily so...I mean, if I were more articulate and more "SSA"-aware) but which I won't link to because its extremely quickly-booming popularity seems to reflect a desperate lust for somewhat simplistic, church-institution-affirming voices, which I think makes it unintentionally destructive. I imagine the author is a beautifully kind, intelligent, and LDS-faithful person who only wants to help, and I don't mean for my reaction to the blog to be at all personal. If anything, I imagine we might get along really well, differences in beliefs aside.



SHOWING THE LITTLE CAPTAIN WHO'S BOSS

I've done the ol' tricks to dominate my thoughts, not entertain certain attractions, etc. Frankly, I think almost every guy in existence has employed various techniques to keep the ol' captain below under control if he believes in sexual restraint. Every developing guy has a lot of thought control to deal with. I don't know what it's like to be a girl, and I know girls have sex drives, too, but I'll just speak from my experience as a guy. Teenage guys are horny bastages beyond, I think, most women's ability to comprehend. Granted, I thought of myself as pretty much asexual until well into my twenties because I didn't understand how guys could become bumbling idiots over a pretty face and a nice rack. I didn't pay attention to how much energy I exerted not to look when I'd see a hot shirtless guy. Even for a repressed guy like me, just the brush of an arm could set off a hormone red alarm. So already, I think most of them have shown remarkable restraint and conviction of purpose if they've kept themselves "sexually pure".


DIFFERENT FOR GAY GUYS?

I think it's maybe even a little extra-difficult for young gay guys. Those who are hiding their homosexuality can't even get caught glancing too long or looking up and down briefly, so even that has to be kept in check. But even for "out" guys who are "saving themselves", they have challenges most straight guys in our culture don't. Think about it: if you took a young, straight, LDS guy who has never engaged in sexual expression (AKA pent up), and his group of friends includes attractive girls (let's just say most of them are lesbians, but he keeps hoping maybe one or two might be attracted to guys) he can't even check out or date, let alone do anything with, and have him becoming friends with them one-on-one, rough-housing, sleeping over at each other's houses, watching movies on couches together, etc, how much of his time is he going to spend "controlling himself"? Think of a scripture and memorize it, repeat it, repeat it again. What if one of them seems to send really subtle signals that she might like guys, and she's sexually assertive? Sing a hymn, sing a hymn! Then, for the closeted ones, take away the lockerroom talk: he can't even talk about how hot this or that girl is or express any interest other than as friends to anyone. He has to keep it all to himself. Speaking of lockerrooms, tell a straight guy he has to use the women's locker rooms and shower in there. Wear a rubber band to snap your wrist every time you have an impure thought in the lockerroom!

Granted, I don't think you can directly compare them. There's something patently different about your buddies, even your gay buddies, that makes it hard to really compare it to a straight guy with any girls, let alone straight ones, and lockerrooms are not mere fleshfest smorgasbords to most well-adjusted gay guys I know. But it at least illustrates that to be celibate and gay perhaps adds some layers straight guys don't experience. Of course, I think this, as much as any masculinity issues, often compels gay guys to have lots of female friends (hellooooo, fewer temptations and confusing feelings!), but that's a post for another time.


CONFIDENCE FROM SELF MASTERY

Basically, I'm saying this is no small effort to keep one's sexual behaviors in check, let alone one's thoughts. And that's respectable because it reflects a desire to master one's self and hold to one's beliefs about something despite one's drives to defy those beliefs. Whether or not the underlying belief is correct, there's something significant about learning self mastery. If you can bridle or direct the most powerful of human drives, such as hunger or sexual drive, you become confident that you are no slave, and there is an empowering sense of choice.

Of course, just because you can learn great self mastery and dedicate yourself to God by not eating, that doesn't mean eating healthily is wrong, but you get the point, right? Strictures can "make something sacred", or remind you of the value either it intrinsically has or which you choose to place on it, or at least teach you something about yourself.

Other guys who don't have the same restrictive (even if in the ever-popular, positive-spin "kite string" sense so often discussed in LDS Sunday school lessons) regulations on sexuality but have been engaging in sexual behaviors like the rest of Creation, except generally more safely and less savagely than most creatures humankind tends to consider as "beneath" us, probably cannot know what it takes to dominate one's urges and haven't gained self mastery of that kind. They may have learned the confidence of self mastery in other ways, like controlling anger, eating healthily, or serving others when they didn't feel like it, but sex hasn't been one of those all-important methods of learning it.


WHY I TRY TO KEEP IT IN MY PANTS

Even independent of religious beliefs, I think there are reasons to limit sexual expression to committed, monogamous relationships, such as the complications of physiological/emotional bonding (whether a chemical/hormonal or 'spiritual' thing), health risks, pregnancy risk, development of trust and deeper emotional/intellectual intimacy, and--I'll be honest--focusing first on foreplay which will enhance sex if/when you get to it. I'm not sure I need more reasons than those to save sex for "special" relationships, or saving the most intimate sexual expressions for lifetime commitment.


MAKING IT MEANINGFUL

There have been times when I've held back because it felt like it would cheapen a relationship if we did too much too fast. I know that may seem like I'm just holding on to my mormon sensibilities, and maybe I am, but I think there's something to it. Maybe it goes back to the idea of refraining in order to make it more special because I want it to be, not because it inherently is or should be. Which leads me to the whole reason I started writing all of this: it's somewhat fascinating to me how much "meaning" and "purpose" some ascribe to their efforts to quell their sexual appetite or desires for romantic connection. I definitely know where they're coming from. I've been there, too.

In more sexually puritanical society, where even the awakening of sexual feelings is prohibited until marriage between a man and a woman (generally, their marriages don't have to be eternal or church-performed, just civil, which is a relatively new institution, but hey, we've gotta draw lines somewhere, so it's understandable), the strictures might be even greater.


MUCH MORE THAN THE LITTLE CAPTAIN'S FUN

In such a society, on top of the dynamics of just "keeping it in your pants until marriage", those who have never experienced with someone of the opposite sex an attraction they would feel right to build a marriage on are faced with a starker probability of lifelong singleness than the average hetero person. The average single, LDS straight guy or girl probably generally at least looks forward to eventually being able to find a companion in this life someday, even if the prospects look grim or they feel unlovable (a terrible feeling for sure). But a single, LDS gay/SSA person typically believes he/she must either marry someone of the opposite sex or remain celibate (in this case meaning "without romantic companionship" in addition to "without sex") until the next life, on top of the possible worries about prospects or feeling unlovable. He/she may have a vague notion that he/she could theoretically be attracted to someone of the opposite sex someday and get married, but it's a vague notion in which they have to exercise a lot of faith and which they often think is a long-shot, so they typically, at some point, confront the possibility of a life without romantic companionship of any allowable kind.

How else could you face something so difficult with happiness, other than to have a strongly motivational purpose and meaning behind it? LDS doctrine states that sex is beautiful and encouraged by God within the right bounds, that it's directly and inseparably connected to one of our main purposes for being here: bringing more spirit children to the earth to experience their mortal probation and gain a body. More progressive LDS also believe it's a God-given experience between husband and wife as part of a wholeness of intimacy to keep them bonded and dedicated to each other and together to raise their family, which is presumably why birth control isn't against official church policy, which only states it's a decision to be made between spouses and God. But with that perspective, that we are here to partner up, multiply and replenish the earth, procreate and raise children unto the Lord, etc, those who are single and unsure of whether they'll ever find someone, for whatever reason, can either focus on the fact that they may never be a part of the great plan of happiness in that central, pivotal way, or they can focus on finding meaning in the path they're on and frame "what they're missing out on" instead as "what they're dedicating to God".

I've known a lot of people, including those who view sexual intimacy as something to be restricted to being between husband and wife, who have decried the Catholic notion of celibacy as false doctrine, but as I understand it, nuns and priests consider celibacy to be a pinnacle of dedication of one's life to God and godly pursuits, a calling for which not all will or can be chosen but which is nonetheless a sanctifying dedication. I tend to see a lot of gay mormons sharing that kind of perspective, a sort of offering which makes their single status more meaningful, more dedicated, more rewarding. And why not? You've got to cope somehow, and that seems a pretty effective way.


YEAH YEAH, I'M A PARAGON OF VIRTUE, BLAH BLAH BLAH

In the past, when I've told people I'm gay but actively LDS and not dating men (back when I believed the doctrines and was not dating men), some have told me they didn't know how we mohos do it--here, some of them realize how a mind like mine might interpret their statement and clarify that they mean "deal with this challenge" by facing a life of probable singleness with such faith--I've felt like saying, "Yeah...but I mean...what choice do I have, here, really? I can either wallow in self-pity and pine away for what I might never have, focusing on the negative, and let that lead me to almost certain misery or apostasy, or I can have faith that it's all going to work out in the end because it's the Lord's plan, whether that means I find a wife or will be sustained by the Spirit in dedicating my single life to God and blessed in eternity with more joy than I possibly could have found in this life with a male partner!" Instead of saying that, I typically quietly nodded and smiled and said something like, "It's hard sometimes, sure, but everyone has their challenges." Cue the looks of sympathy and deep respect that I'm keeping my chin up with an eternal perspective.


O-MO, YOU'RE RAMBLING. ...AGAIN. 'GRANDEUR', 'CELIBACY', OK GO.

What's my point? Not sure. You think it's tedious reading this stuff? Try writing it. Oh, grandeur. About that, I guess I am saying that hearing some people talk about their faith in the eternal blessings for choosing to be single for life if they can't find a potential eternal companion reminds me that it seems like the grandeur we place on acts we do or refrain from doing often directly correlates to the perceived misery of doing or refraining. Alternatively, the need to explain it kind of dissolves if there's no grand "plan" or formula creating the strictures to begin with, so you're free to choose whatever seems best, and it becomes a task of figuring out what you want. But whether or not difficult acts are inherently "good" or "right", having an overarching, great and meaningful purpose for them, whatever that purpose is (I know many people with varying grand or practical visions of the universe or life in general), really does help get people make the best of otherwise tough situations, and often not in a trudging or slowly plodding way but even with vigorous purpose and energy. Even these people will have some "down" times until they're able to rediscover that purpose or find another and pick themselves up for another foray into purposefulness.

So seek truth, seek true principles, live by those principles for your own self respect and confidence. But through it all, when you're committed to doing something hard, and it begins to feel hopeless, find your meaning, find your purpose. I'm talking to myself there, FYI. Sorry, I should probably finish this conversation with myself offline. Could get awkward for all of you when I start exchanging expressions of affection using pet names with myself.


CABIN FEVER BE GONE

Yeah...I've been inside too long. Gym time, then TV night with friends it is. Goodbye, lovelies.

Moho Madness (Maybe He's Right About "SSA" Guys)

An acquaintance has been blogging regularly (perhaps even incessantly *wink*) about his trouble with "SSA" guys and how straight guys are so much better at friendship and so much less fickle, etc (though he seems to have softened his language a bit). I've been discussing it with him to try to identify what's causing his distress, but after a recent discussion in his comments, I just burned out and let it go.

After a couple of recent experiences, though, I've thought, "Screw it, you know what? 'SSA' guys (particularly the ones trying to reconcile their homosexuality with their religious beliefs) often are a pain in the butt compared to guys from other demographics." This seems especially true during the first couple of years of figuring their stuff out, though it varies and can be extended, particularly for those who have moved into the mohaven of Utah and are therefore learning to grapple with the ample opportunity to...interact...with other mohos.

It's not that there's no possible explanation for "SSA" guys being different: they're wrestling with some pretty intense and eternally consequential questions above and beyond the normal "coming out" social pressures. But explanation or not, SSA guys (myself included) have their quirks and annoying commonalities as a general population. Many are conflicted beyond belief, volatile as can be, self-loathing and self-punishing for having impure thoughts (let alone "acting out"), painfully self-righteous when they think they've got it figured it out, toying with extremes because they don't see any middle ground, horny as hell, repeating cycles of lustful abandon and pious repentance, so unsure of what they want that their mind changes daily, and/or fickle about friendships, dropping friends right and left either because they haven't learned homosexuality isn't all you need to build a friendship and realize these shiny new friendships aren't what they thought they'd be after all, or because they can't cope with pressures and temptations, or they're ashamed of what they have done, or they're not ashamed but refuse to face it when they're "caught" in secretive patterns of compartmentalized behavior, or whatever. All of this adds up to a rather exasperating-to-keep-up-with bunch of dudes (and occasional dudettes).

Then I thought, "But hey, I know a lot of great guys who have gone through some of that and moved on, and we all go through some of it to some degree. And I'm glad people stuck with me and are sticking with me through my more volatile or confusing times." Besides, every subculture has its frustrating or unhealthy aspects. I can learn to look past those to the individual and appreciate the good they offer rather than blanketing them in the behaviors of their peers.

Some recent conversations and experiences have sparked these thoughts, most recently the realization that a Facebook "friend" had deleted me (and several mutual friends). I normally notice the drop in number of friends, but only a very few times have I noticed who it was who dropped me. This moho madness is just commonplace enough that when I notice I've lost a Facebook "friend", one of the first things I think of is, "OK, what moho do I know of who's been acting insecure, self-righteous, extreme, or just generally all over the place?" Sure enough, I sometimes find that someone has done a purge. In this case, he may have purged more than mohos, and it may have nothing to do with his own moho volatility. I recognize that. But I have to be honest: it makes me want to cleanse my life of some "SSA guys" whom I suspect of being less sincere than I initially thought or who are particularly volatile-acting.

So to that blogger friend who's been railing on "SSA" guys and their friendship fickleness, I think I do kinda get it. And I can think of a couple of people I may not approve if they try to add me back (not that I think they will) because in my world, people don't deliberately shut out or discard friends and then reconnect whenever it's convenient without a really good explanation. Even with a good explanation, I'm not likely to play along multiple times. I'll forgive, but that doesn't mean I'll play the role of dutiful doormat by giving you the opportunity to do it again and again. I like board games and night games, but some games I refuse to play along with. Sometimes, you've gotta lose friends to learn that it's not everyone else's problem.

Still, I don't believe all "SSA" guys are like that, nor am I about to eliminate all of them from my life to avoid those few negative interactions. I try not to make rash or generalized decisions based on emotional reactions or transitory feelings, so I'll probably just keep letting everyone else do the deleting as they see fit rather than getting all defensive and beating them to the punch. It might be annoying or make me roll my eyes when I find another moho with whom I used to have 50 mutual friends and now have 2 or fewer, but it's usually not particularly hurtful when I'm among those purged, which has only happened very few times. I try to remember that people going through volatile and confusing times need love and support, too, and though I may not be in a place to offer the kind they want or need, I'll try to avoid shutting them out any more than I would someone who isn't part of the "suspect" population. My dramoho quota is full: newbies need not apply, but I've become a little attached to even a few of the as-of-yet volatile lads I already know, and even though we may naturally be more distant now that we don't share the religious views we used to, I care about many of those cusses to varying degrees. No need to push them away unless they push first, and unless it's a sudden reversal, "not pulling me in" doesn't count as "pushing me away".

Oh, the madness of mohodom. Sometimes I swear it rivals Wonderland.




Unrelated Note: Some of you may have observed that I've posted a lot the last couple of days. And yes, I have several more posts started. I think I started 3 drafts as offshoots of this post, alone. This isn't entirely unusual, but I'm kind of on one, so I'm trying to balance between pacing myself and getting it all out before I lose interest in finishing them. Keep up if you will, skim what you don't care about, comment where you can, but I'm just sayin': I'll probably be blatherin' on for the next few days.

Friend Web

You know that app on Facebook that allows you to create this sort of "cloud" or interconnected web of friends? It's actually pretty cool, and it's fun to see which friends are your "hubs", with a lot of mutual friends, and see the lines connecting everyone, etc. But though I've used the app, I've never posted the results to my wall. Why? Well, the Utah section is, like, 95% guys. That's sure to raise an eyebrow or two. No, mine will remain private, to avoid outing people en masse.

Not Reaching Out, Part Deux

After publishing my previous post, I pretty much expected the sort of comments I got. But as usual, being challenged has helped me think through things a bit more (stop rolling your eyes and saying, "Oh great, more thinking." It's what I do. Get used to it). :-)



This sounds like you analyze every relationship at every level as if it were a chess game.

Well it kinda does, doesn't it? But these scenarios I'm talking about amount to about half a dozen times in my adult life. Not a pervasive pattern, but a nuisance. Most of my friendships develop pretty naturally and organically. No, there's no "battle plan" or "model" I try to follow in relationships. People and interpersonal dynamics are too complex, too individual, and too dynamic to possibly hope to fully understand or write a definitive play book. But I try to identify my own patterns, which does help me with future relationships and communication...though it's admittedly sometimes more about trying to solve the puzzle for puzzle-solving's sake (now I'm thinking about the 3 episodes of House I watched last night...I think I may finally be hooked) but telling myself there's a practical application. Dang it.



If you want to reach out, but don't, please don't be mad at them for it.

True. So instead I'll just be mad at them for being jerks in the first place. ;-) OK OK, it's really about the dynamics of the relationship, not anybody's particular personality flaws, theirs or mine. I care about these cusses. I just don't want to give them the remote control to my emotions again.

Detached, carefree person + invested, sensitive person = messiness in many cases.

Unless I'm confident my vulnerability has waned, I worry about ending up in the same mess. I'm trying to learn to let go of that fear and manage the lingering caution. Just going along for the ride again, though, is not an option. What's that saying about insanity being expecting different outcomes from the same, repeated actions? Yeah...



Perhaps they are doing the same and both of you are denied some positive innocent friendly companionship as a result?

It's possible they're doing the same, but most of the people this has happened with are quite different, quite non-analytical. As for companionship, it's about weighing the emotional risks vs. the benefits. Friendship hardly seems productive when one person (*raises hand*) is dysfunctionally hurt-prone in that particular friendship, due to sensitivity and past heartache. I think sometimes it's best to move on rather than be that annoying, needy person in someone's life who just can't seem to let go after the friendship has outlived its usefulness. It's also not fair to contact them out of some thirst for affirmation when I don't really want friendship again. My motives matter, too. But yes, no matter what the trade-offs or benefits, we might be missing out on what could be positive friendship, which is what sometimes brings me back to test the waters.



I bet half the people you are wanting to connect with really don't think of things the way you've described them here.

If you mean they don't analyze things like I do, you're probably right. If you mean they don't see what they've done as manipulative, you're probably right. If you mean they might say, "I don't know what happened: everything was fine on my end," you're probably right.

I've been in that position, where I cared about friends and wanted their friendship but didn't return their feelings or desire for more time together or more emotional intimacy, or whatever. I was unintentionally insensitive to a couple of female friends who I think had feelings for me and didn't know what to do. I might have said, "I value our friendship, just potentially not as much as you do right now." But...ouch. I thought maybe they needed distance for their own sake, to detach a bit, but I wasn't about to ask for that because it might send a signal that I wasn't interested in friendship, when I was. I watched them go through inexplicable reactions to things I said or did and wondered why they were so emotional. It seemed, at times, like they were torturing themselves by continuing to spend time and keep contact with me, manifested by emotional reactions, including anger. Being friends almost became a chore, but I did want to prove I wanted their friendship, so I continued to deal with it and enjoyed the good times and endured the stressful times and repeated mini-DTRs. "Women," I'd grunt.

Then I later found myself on their side, and I understood a bit better where they were coming from. I had one guy friend (with whom I had a sort of romantic entanglement but who withdrew from the friendship more than I did once the romantic stuff was wearing off) later tell me he thought I was crazy-emotional over what happened between us, but he had since been in a relationship that put him on the other side, and he sympathized with me.

If you mean they're not doing anything manipulative, I disagree for the couple of cases I'm thinking of, though I'd be happy to be wrong. I'm not going to discuss the "evidence" here, but I'll just say I'm not just inventing to explain some puzzling behavior. I've observed their manipulative or selfish behavior with other people in addition to patterns with me, and I don't presume to be a special exception. But the kicker: I know I've behaved in ways that were emotionally manipulative without having intended them that way, usually due to some insecurity, and I'm glad my friends who struggled with their feelings for me stuck with it and kept coming back because some of those have become my most lasting friendships, even after their feelings subside and our mutual interest equalizes.

Though I don't think they mean to be malicious, the problem comes when I'm no longer emotionally equipped or interested enough to withstand or entertain their lashes. Maybe I'm weaker than those friends of mine who endured. Or maybe I'm just afraid and insecure and haven't learned to deal with that.



...reach out with the simple motivation of genuine concern and interest in them, no focus on yourself

I think I have done this, with the possible exception of letting down defenses I put up for a reason and believe must stay in place. However, something that's harder but I think is necessary is letting go of the fear of being hurt again. I suspect that fear only makes it that much more likely that it will happen again, a sort of self-fulfilling thing.



You think way too much. Just call. Or text. Or facebook message. Or don't. lol.

I think I get that. I mean, I almost did that the other day when I was thinking of someone I haven't talked to in a long time. But there are actually circumstances in some cases, in addition to the vulnerability thing, which I chose not to go into in the post which are relevant but...just not right to publish, I guess. And with that, I shall let this go, maintaining my throne as King Overanalysis. On the other hand, last night I did just say, "Screw it, I want to contact him, so I'm going to," and I sent a brief e-mail to check in.

I think I've learned a thing or two from all this and responding to your comments, so thanks! But it'll do no good if I sit here blogging all day and thinking about what I've thought about, now, will it? ;-)

Not Reaching Out

Every once in a while, I feel like reaching out to someone I've been hurt by or who has expressed a desire to backpedal our level of interaction when I didn't share that desire. It's happened with a girl or two, but it's admittedly been more so with a small number of fellow mohos, usually when there's been an attraction on my part, whether or not I actually "fell" for them. I tell myself, "It's not worth putting yourself at risk by reaching out in some way and just giving them the upper hand again because they've never proven they can have the upper hand yet show real sensitivity and open, honest communication while having it (maybe for fear they might lose the advantage or lose your friendship?), and you'll just end up getting hurt again." Then I remind myself, "They can only hurt you as much as you allow them to. You don't have to expect anything from them or hope your interaction will be what it was before things went south. You could just check in like you do with other people you've not been so vulnerable with." Then I think that the fact that I'm even debating this really does mean I'm not as "over it" as I'd like to be because if I were, there'd be no question, no risk.

Or I think it at least means that even though I'm pretty sure I couldn't be "hurt" the way I once was, or I've detached enough to not be vulnerable in that way, I wonder if we can reconnect in any way more than incidentally without it going in that direction again, and if it's only going to be incidental, I'd almost just as soon leave it alone entirely. I'm not sure I've never navigated that successfully.

I figure I've hurt a small number of my friends because they kept coming back after we realized their interest was greater or more invested than mine, and I felt bad that they couldn't just relax and be friends, and I didn't want to push them away myself but could see it would probably be best for them if they would withdraw. I genuinely cared about them, but having to constantly rehash things or walk on eggshells to avoid hurting them was so tiring that I wondered if it wouldn't be better to just go our separate ways. Sometimes, they have withdrawn, and while I felt bad, and it stung a little that they felt they had to protect themselves by removing me, I also knew it was probably best for them and cared about them enough to just let them do it. And I was happy when they'd come back, but there's always this undercurrent of me having hurt them, even unintentionally, so I try to be really careful without walking on eggshells or underestimating their resilience.

I never understood their behavior and sensitivity until I found myself on their side of a friendship. I hate the idea of being in their position indefinitely (especially with someone less sensitive than I am, because I'm pretty sensitive but still did some pretty clueless/thoughtless things) or putting another friend in the position I was in, confused and feeling ultra-cautious all the time, so I figure it's less messy and better for everyone to just stay apart and not initiate contact even if I'd welcome contact from them.

So I'm left with this mix of thoughts and emotions: I want to know how they're doing and what's going on in their lives. I want to know what they ate for lunch today, how the new job has been going, how life across the country is treating them. But to reach out and ask would be to initiate contact they haven't requested and when they haven't done anything to reach out, which puts me right back in the position I was in when we parted: more invested and more pushy than they. So I refrain. And I figure they probably don't even notice, or so I tell myself to make it easier to not reach out. While their lives are marching on just fine without me, they at least probably occasionally wonder what's up with me. But if they really cared to know, they'd ask me. They'd text me or e-mail or call. They'd reach out. But what if they're thinking the same about me and refusing to reach out out of defensiveness? Let's be honest, though, they weren't the ones getting hurt. If anyone should be defensive, it's me, but I'd be willing to reach out...except...fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice... The burned child fears the flame. What excuse does the unburned child have?

It dawned on me recently: I need (or want) them to reach out, genuinely, sincerely, selflessly, vulnerably. I just don't care to put myself back in the position I was in which led to the need for "space" in the first place, and contacting them is, by definition, putting myself back into that place. Especially when the other person has contacted me unexpectedly only when they had something about themselves to tell me about before suddenly running out of time, or they texted me until I texted back, then never replied, as if they just had to prove they still had the upper hand and could make me reply without needing to reply back to me. And I don't play those kinds of games. I walk away from them very shortly: I have no patience for them.

Sometimes I wonder, "But what if they just need to know that you're open to hearing from them, that you're over it (or getting over it) and do care about them, so they don't go away thinking you simply don't care?" And then I remember, "That's not what they were doing before, and it's probably not what they're doing now. If they really care, if they really want contact with you, they'll initiate it. Even if they think you're upset, if they're too immature to make themselves vulnerable by reaching out when they fear you might not return it, then they are proving exactly the traits which led to your 'break-up' in the first place, and nothing has changed." So I shrug in resignation and give myself a quick, reassuring nod to affirm my confidence, and move on to something else, wondering if I'll ever figure it out.

Laying Down the Law: Delay Cuddling

It's decided: absolutely no cuddling of any kind (or, for that matter, hand-holding, which to me is more intimate, or kissing beyond maybe a peck goodnight after a couple of dates) until I've hung out with or gone on dates with someone at least four times prior. If I'm still interested in developing a friendship or relationship with someone after that many times with no real physical affection, I can be fairly confident the relationship (friendship) is probably off to a genuine start, and I've had time to assess what kind of relationship/friendship I'm interested in without muddying things with sexuality or creating false intimacy or a misleading sense of harmony born of physical affection. And no, I'm not interested in sexual gratification without a relationship, so that doesn't apply to me. And I've also had time, by then, to figure out whether we have enough of a "real" connection to merit the trust and affection of physical intimacy, or whether I'm just horny or needy at the time. That's not to say I can't spend a whole evening with someone and form a connection that would merit some (basic) physical affection, but waiting lets me really assess with a clearer head, I think.

And let's be honest: if someone is still interested in hanging out with me after at least four times of little hope of getting any action, even in the form of cuddling, that's an indicator that they probably are genuinely interested in me as a person. Of course, some are remarkably patient, so it would also depend on how often we hang out, how persistent they seem, whether I'm feelin' it, etc. And it could backfire: I might unintentionally send the message that I'm not a physically affectionate person, which I really, really am in certain friendships and in romantic relationships. But I'm not very concerned about that.

Ugh...I'm not big on hard-and-fast rules, but sometimes, you've gotta just draw a line somewhere to keep yourself reminded and level-headed. I'd kind of made this rule for myself loosely but have fudged it...and I've never looked back and thought fudging it was a wise decision. Not once. Maybe I'm learning. This rule is now firm. ...er.

Reminder to Self: No Mo' Mohos

I need to stop getting to know mohos, particularly the newbies. I'm in a different place than almost all of them and have no interest in pretending otherwise, the new ones are way too volatile, I don't have the energy to break through their judgments or deal with their detachment when they realize I'm not kidding about my agnosticism or they rekindle their "testimony" and no longer need an understanding ear or shoulder for their passing phase, and becoming attracted to the occasional one who flirts back is seriously an exercise in futility, self-deception and sure heartache.

I will keep ties with those I already know. They've become friends for a reason, and I'll keep the opportunity to have them accept or reject me despite or because of my beliefs, traits, whatever, as I do with them. I love even those mohomies and mohoneys with whom I've fallen out or experienced detachment, and I appreciate their friendship and care about them, but I don't have the energy to be someone's shiny new toy they act all excited about and become enamored with at first, only to lose interest once they've examined it thoroughly and the honeymoon has worn off. I thought I did again, but I don't. Obviously, some of this is to be expected in any relationship, but it's somehow magnified for me in mohodom. Will I purposely reject friendships that have potential? Probably not. I don't think I have it in me. And not all mohos are equal: many are quite understanding and loving. But will I severely limit the interaction I have with conservatively LDS gay boys? Definitely, especially the newly-coming-to-terms ones. I need to be more strict about keeping my distance.

If I am starting to spend time with a moho I've admitted to finding attractive, stop me: it won't end well. If I'm hanging out with conservatively LDS folks, hit me over the head before they have a chance to disappoint my expectations of them seeing past my apostasy into who I am at heart and what I have to offer as a person, regardless of my beliefs. Remind me where it will surely lead: to them detaching before I do, despite still caring about me and wanting to talk occasionally, and considering me a spiritual detriment to themselves, their goals of eternal marriage, and their social circle even while I'm still attached and mostly overlooking their perspectives I consider largely flawed and destructive because I see qualities in them I love and respect. Make me sober up and take a month's vacation from them.

I can't keep doing this. I'm really feeling a drive to leave Utah and Idaho (and every conservatively LDS place) and stop trying to reconcile and find harmony beyond what I've done with those who were already my friends. I know it's an emotional reaction right now, and it'll pass, but I'm not sure it should. There's a lot I like about many conservative places: down-to-earth and humble people, appreciation of simple pleasures and happiness money can't buy, "clean living", family orientation, and others. But those qualities, not necessarily the places themselves, are what I like, and I can find those things in other places; they're not traits monopolized by conservative, small LDS towns in Utah and Idaho.

I'm tired of being perceived as the pitiful fallen former-stalwart whom people I love and enjoy "care about" but with whom they don't necessarily feel comfortable or at ease anymore, not necessarily because of my behavior, demeanor, or personality, but because of my beliefs, which I have to admit is pretty understandable (I don't care if my neighbors act like model citizens: if I know they're KKK members, I'm not going to find it easy to interact with them). I'm tired of trying to ignore people's emotional distance and withdrawal and not interpret them as signs that all they see when they interact with me is their friend or loved one who "used to believe and has obviously become spiritually lazy or sinful enough to lose his testimony". Even if they eventually come around, I'm not convinced it's worth it. Let them find another punching bag for their self-righteous judgment on their way to learning what I think is a more Christlike discipleship or eventually going off the deep end in grand fashion.

Some would say this is the torment of a guilty conscience. They don't have any idea. I have to shrug and let them think that. But I am admittedly speaking out of pain. Pain of knowing that, to some I thought of as friends, I lose most or much of my worth to them once they realize I've "lost the faith". Yet I have trouble blaming them because I've been there: I've looked at others that exact way. And I must admit I may be projecting my past perceptions onto some, but a few have frankly confirmed to me that's exactly what they think, after some pressing from me. But I can't take it back because it's the most honest I've been about my beliefs in a long time, and to pretend I want faith in LDS doctrine back would be a lie to please them or make my life easier.

And yes, I do know I have friends and family who are more successful at seeing past my faithlessness to who I am beyond religious doctrines, and I'm thankful for that.

I'm just...tired. I'm going to go take a nap.

I Am a Cautionary Tale

I recently wrote about what might go through the minds of younger guys when someone of my ripe old age shows an interest in being friends. In a related online conversation with one such younger guy whom I shall not name, he expounded to me what's going on in his head. In this particular case, most of my suspicions were confirmed, such as him being defensive since I had expressed that I had somewhat of a mancrush and him not really knowing what to do with that, feeling no such thing in return. I had suspected as much, and I thanked him for his honesty. It's good to know where you stand with people, even if it's not where you might prefer to stand.

I was inclined to clarify that when I talk about that kind of crush potential or the sort of mancrush I felt towards him, I really don't mean I'm interested in getting into someone's pants or even that I expect to develop "romantic feelings" for them, but it usually just means I find them unusually endearing and am interested in their thoughts and journey and have a kind of playful urge to coax them out of their defensiveness, even though I almost never actually try to do that. When people state their boundaries, I try to respect those, maybe to a fault. But that doesn't mean I won't tease a little here and there. *wink* Oh shoot, that probably doesn't help with their defensiveness. *grin* Ah well, let them be defensive. As I told him, I don't think I have the energy for that degree of delicacy with relative moho newbies anymore. I'd rather let them do their thing, figure their stuff out or simmer down, and whenever they're more stable or settled or secure, if our paths intersect, and both parties are interested in being friends, maybe we will be. If not, good journey to them. Part of me wants to be there to answer questions or offer support in whatever direction they choose (more to help them think deliberately instead of acting sporadically than to imply I agree with their decision) rather than leaving them to a bunch of inexplicably erratic, seemingly dually-minded mohos who seem to believe one thing intellectually or at least proclaim they do but apparently base their decisions on the emotions of the moment or repeatedly seek secret opportunities for deviation from what they preach. But let's be honest: if they want my opinion, they'll ask for it, and who am I to think I'm about to "rescue" anyone from stupid role models, if that's even what they are?

But the main point that stood out to me in this brief conversation was a painful, bitter truth: I am, to him (and, presumably, many others), an example of one of the things they most fear--still being undecided or conflicted about what to do with it all (not to mention single) at my ripe old age. He said that by my age, he really hopes he'll have decided one way or another and be happily living his life with a companion, whichever way he chooses. Oh, it cut me to the core! The pain! The agony! OK, so I actually totally identified with it, and all I could do is furl my brow for a moment in wounded consternation, then nod and shrug understandingly with a resigned chuckle.

When I first joined an online discussion group consisting mostly of Evergreener types, I read some posts from 50-60-year-olds still lamenting their porn or "self abuse" habits, or the loss of their family due to cheating, and I thought, "Oh, hay-ul no, I do NOT want to be THAT in 30 or 40 years. Please tell me there's more ahead than crying myself to sleep after all that time." I withdrew and didn't read for months, until I had a chance to process more on my own and come back with a steadier perspective. When I returned, I was able to see that their future needn't be mine, that they had a much later start dealing with everything and were maybe just as new to the "struggle" as I was, that they likely had much different social and generational challenges than I do today, etc. And it was OK. I figured there was a chance I might still not know what to do with it all, or I might not have all the answers, but I hoped to be more resolved by then, and I was pretty sure it needn't be a heavy weight on me all the time, and it hasn't been.

I have to admit, however, to myself and to everyone, that I am not at a point most people hope to be at by my age. I don't have a career. I don't have a companion. I have no children. I don't own a home. I am a single guy who hasn't committed to finding a same-sex partner and isn't keen on dating the chickadees. I'm not convinced a same-sex companionship would be fulfilling, I would love to have my own children, I'd much prefer not fight society my whole life in defending a "lifestyle", I kind of wish I wanted to marry a great woman and raise a family, I'm not sure if my companion, male or female, should be active LDS or agnostic LDS or not LDS at all because I don't know what I want to be for sure, I'm trying to figure out which of my interests I want to make a career of...I'm friggin' all over the place. But...I'm used to it. I don't mind it most of the time. And I try not to define myself by what I haven't accomplished or don't have, despite what others tell me I should be or should have. Despite some occasional keen awareness of those things I don't have, I'm OK with me. I like me. I'm not perfect, but I'm OK, and I have something to share and contribute in most settings.

I wish everyone else were comfortable with me as I am, but not everyone is, so when I get this sense that someone is really bothered by my ambiguity or lack of set-in-stone goals and direction, I'd just as soon not bother them, and I lose interest in keeping them close. Defense mechanism? Maybe. Rational measure to reduce unnecessary clutter and stress in my life? I think so. It's not a pattern, just an occasional response.

To most people, I may be a nice guy, or a good guy, or respectable in many ways, but I also am a cautionary tale, an example of what not to become, a frightful product of spiritual apathy and religious inaction or a tragic casualty of the guilt-ridden emotional clutches of organized religion! But I like me alright, and I am figuring things out as I go. I don't apologize for my non-traditional state of being or my supposed lack of direction. I'm a work in progress, and I feel like I'm progressing in ways that matter to me, but it's mostly undetected to the casual observer or even perceived as digression to the observer who adheres to a certain perspective. I guess that's OK. I may look back and wonder how I ever dealt with being where I am now. One day, I may have a home and a family and look back, glad I am not in the sorry state I'm in now. I may look back and consider it a dark time of weak faith and lost perspective. I may look back and see it as an awakening. Who knows? But for now, I feel OK. It is what it is, and amid the lack of conclusion and the conflict I have a lot of happiness.

And that very fact--that it feels fine--may be a red flag to those of you who never want to be where I am at all, let alone be where I am and thinking it's OK. I have to chuckle a little to myself to realize that. How scary to be like me and not have a problem with it, right? I get that. I really do. I guess I can't describe it, and I'll give up trying to defend it. I really do understand if my existence or presence is a source of discomfort. It's my turn to be that person to someone else after others were that person to me. To each of you in my life, I invite you to try to just love me for me, support my efforts you think are positive in the best way you know how, try not to cry for me when I'm not crying for myself, trust that I'm doing the best I know how, trust that I'm not constantly and secretly lamenting my sorry state, and offer constructive feedback and support as requested or if you think it necessary to keep me from ruining my life. I'll try to listen patiently and consider it. But I'm not perfect either, so we'll both need some patience and longsuffering to deal with each other's perceived foibles and frustrating traits.

Now, off to the gym to maintain whatever youth I may have left. *wink*

Beyond the Social Awkwardness

The other night, I was talking with a new mohomie (new to me), and he had a smirk on his face, which I asked him about (as I tend to do). He said something about enjoying learning people's stories after having seen them around for so long but not knowing them personally, and that led to discussing how long we'd seen each other around but were just now getting to know each other. How long had we figured the other person was disinterested? Part of our conversation involved discussing first impressions, and we learned a thing or two.

But before I describe that, I'll say you obviously can't interact with everyone you want to when you want to. Time and energy and emotional investment don't allow you to become friends with everyone at once. I choose those in whom I invest my time and energy somewhat selectively, I think, reserving enough time for quality interaction that I feel like I'm actually connecting with and maintaining quality contact with a few people but leaving enough time for more incidental, "shallow" interaction to find possible casual friendships or future closer friendships as well. Of course, as I discussed with another friend last night, there's often one person or another who isn't as interested in spending a lot of time together or talking as much, and it can be a little difficult to learn to navigate those friendships where personal interest is uneven or is of differing natures (romantic vs. platonic, etc).

Back to the topic at hand: about a week prior, I had gotten to know one of our mutual friends who invited me to a get-together with some guys from a group I just didn't think I related to, and I almost backed out and said I'd just drop him off and pick him up later (I was his chauffeur for the weekend, since he was visiting from out of town) because I didn't want to crash the party or be this awkwardly not-entirely-welcome presence. But in the end, I decided to buck up and give it a shot, and I had a good time. Now there I was, sitting in the room of one of those guys, with another mutual friend of ours, having a good time and enjoying each other's company and wondering what took us so long, shaking our heads and musing about the signals we had interpreted from each other unnecessarily.

We wondered why it took so long for us to hang out, and we learned that we each had the impression that the other person was disinterested. This isn't terribly uncommon for me: I'll chat with people, but I honestly don't find most people terribly interesting on first impressions. I'm generally slow to warm up to people, and I'm slow to find them interesting. It's just kinda how I roll. So I think people read that, and they respond with equal disinterest or defensiveness. But whatever the case here, we learned that we were seeing each other as disinterested when that wasn't necessarily the case.

I told him I'm a shy guy by nature and completely introverted, and I don't naturally go up to a group and introduce myself. I sometimes introduce myself to individuals but not groups without some real effort. And this guy was always with a group. Well, I also saw him as a super conservative Utah wannabe-sporty boy, and wasn't sure how we'd relate. There were always other people who appeared more relatable, so I wasn't sure introducing myself to him was worth the effort. Anyway, I told him when there's a group of people, I'll sometimes come up and talk with someone I know within that group, for example our mutual friend who was there with us as we were discussing this. But I told him when I did that a few times, he and others kind of avoided eye contact or turned away and started talking to each other, which I read as disinterest or even possible disdain for me on some level, so I never tried for more communication. In fact, they have a female friend who hangs out with them who I always thought was kind of looking at me thinking, "Who are you and what do you want with my friends?" Because of these signals I read, I backed off and figured that was just one group I'd not get to know at all, and that was OK because, like I said, I only have so much energy for expanding social circles. He laughed and said that certainly wasn't the impression he'd intended to give and that he thought I was disinterested and didn't care to speak to him, which is why he disconnected when I came over and started speaking only to the mutual friend and not to the group (not knowing that speaking to the person I know when they're standing with their group is sometimes my shy-guy way of opening the possibility of getting to know others in the group). Oh, the zany miscommunication of it all.

The thing is, it's just hard to know sometimes whether we're reading signals correctly or to be aware of the signals we're sending and how they might be interpreted. An acquaintance recently blogged about how he goes to Matis firesides and kind of stays detached but secretly wishes some people would talk to him. He commented in passing that the older guys and younger guys don't seem interested, and I had to laugh because just the night prior, I'd been telling these same two guys I've been talking about that I often refrain from engaging with younger guys at the firesides or other social events because I feel like the uninteresting older guy.

I can't help but think, when talking or hanging out with some of the younger guys, that at least part of them is thinking, "Dude, let's not make this too long 'cause there are a dozen guys I could be spending time with who are younger, hotter, more flirtatious and likely to lead somewhere, and more fun than you, but you seem like a nice enough guy, so I'll give you a moment." Perhaps that's my own projection because part of me has thought that way, which I figure is only human, even if not entirely admirable. And of course, for a lot of these guys, a moment is all I want, anyway. Just touching base, a friendly hello, and we're on our way. But there may be, for example, an interesting-seeming guy who I'd like to get to know better, but who is, say, in his early twenties (read "much younger than me"), new to the moho thing (which makes me think I should stand back so he can befriend more "faithful" guys), and already knows I'm open to getting to know him (let's pretend I've let him know so in e-mails but left the ball in his court because I don't want to pressure him), and I don't want to keep talking to someone who seemingly has some reason for not pursuing communication with me because the last thing I want is to be the creepy older guy who won't leave someone alone. :-)

So what's the result? I'll say hello to him, refrain from the hug I wanted to give, maybe ask a benign question or two, try to read his response and see if there's any more openness than last time or if he'll invite more conversation or seems to at least want to, and finally decide to move on and maybe come back to him later if the opportunity presents itself because I'm not sure how to read him and don't want to force myself or take up time he could spend talking with the people he'd rather be talking to. Slightly awkward, maybe, but worth it for the possibility of having a good chat sometime and letting him know I'm still open to it if/when he's ever ready. And yet I wonder: what does this look like from his side? What interpretations does he have, while I'm wondering how to interpret him?

I'm left wondering, in such a case, if he really just is less interested in getting to know each other any better on a personal level than I am (as I discussed with my friend), or if he's generally wary except with a few chosen people of whom I'm not a part, or if he's secretly afraid his inner beast will try to rip my clothes off and doesn't want to deal with that conflict, or if he's heard some kind of rumor about me which makes him cautious, or if my lack of "testimony" makes me a non-candidate for friendship, or if I'm just too old to befriend, or if he just plain thinks I'm boring, or if he is disgusted by acne-prone people, or if he is interested in chatting more but just doesn't know how to let me know it's OK to talk to him, or if my breath offends him, or if he's afraid I'll crush on him, or if I remind him of his elementary school bully, or...funny how many scenarios one can come up with to interpret signals, isn't it?

Fortunately, I've had several years to learn not to let myself get carried away with this stuff. When things just "don't seem to work" with someone or with a group of people, I've learned not to try to figure it out too much or to tell myself negative stories because you just never know quite what's going on with someone else. Any more, I tend to shrug, hope for better in the future, try to let them know I'm open, or just move on and let it go and let the cards fall where they may. I've tried the "blame myself" or "blame them" thing, and it's not healthy either way. I've tried the "push for an explanation" thing, and it can create unnecessary friction or defensiveness completely unnecessarily and unjustifiably. I've tried the "withdraw and retreat" thing, and it leaves me feeling hopeless and disconnected. Anymore, I generally try the "check in and set the invitation out there and then move on without any expectation of response" thing, an important component of which is to stop checking in after two or three non-responses, and I'm finding that to work best for me.

This way, the connections are just open enough that somewhere down the road, whether or not we ever become close friends, a few of those connections might just end up with us sitting together with friends and chatting until 2:30 in the morning about deep things and stupid things and learning from each other and laughing about how long we awkwardly passed each other up.