Let me preface with one tidbit about myself: I do appreciate beauty when I see it and sometimes see someone I think it would be fun to have my way with…or vice versa, but I don't really consider actually doing it. And I’ve never actually felt a real desire to ask someone out who I didn’t know. …until my friendly neighborhood sales boy at the local office and electronics store smiled at me with absolutely adorable eyes.
It didn’t happen immediately, mind you. I went shopping for a certain electronic device a couple of Saturdays ago, and the salesperson who came to help us was a breath of fresh air compared to my other experiences of the day. He was forthright, down-to-earth, non-pushy, admitted when he didn’t know something… And cute. Well, to me anyway. His smile, his peaceful, unassuming eyes, his endearing demeanor. But he was just the salesperson in the electronics section.
So a couple of days later, I went back to check the sales. He was there again. I was pleased. And he smiled and said something like, “So you’re back!” I smiled and tried to disguise the semi-giddy grin I really wanted to display if only to gauge his response. I talked electronics with him, got some input, went on my way.
I bought the product I had been looking at but from another location of the chain. When I encountered a problem with it, I called the original store where I had met the cute salesboy to find out about refund policy and, totally unexpected (yes, honestly), spoke with someone who sounded a lot like the same kid, though I couldn’t be sure.
So I went back to the store after work one night to buy an accessory for the product. It was late, so I truly didn’t expect to see the same guy I had seen the other times because that was always in the morning. But life has a quirky way of teasing me sometimes. There he was. We talked a bit about electronics-related things, but it was mostly just friendly banter, and I was enjoying it. Not obsessively so. Nothing sexual. Nothing needy. Just enjoying it and thinking we could be friends, or if I were looking for more, maybe we could be more. …assuming he swings that way, which he probably doesn’t. I mean, there was no wedding ring, but still. And besides, I wasn't looking for more, but still.
Anyway, as he went to the back to grab the last of the accessory they had in inventory, I got in line to check out. When he returned, he stood in line and waited with me. Granted, he may have been waiting in line to assure I was going to be OK purchasing a previously opened product, but he just stood there and talked about how it should be in good shape, it was only tested, etc. He repeated the same statement a few times, and I thought, “Oh, he’s kind of adorable.”
Yes, I was smitten in a way. For the first time ever, I actually had the urge, even if only for a moment, to ask a guy I don’t really know out to dinner. I thought better of it and decided against asking a probably-straight boy out for the small chance we might hit it off and be friends, and the even smaller chance he’s inclined towards boys and would be my new boyfriend if I decided to go that route… Folks, the mind of a moho is strange.
So I haven’t seen him since, and unless something fails and I have to return the product, I probably won’t again. Too bad.
But for the first time, I finally understand the whole, “Hey, I like you. Would you be interested in dinner?” thing. I never got that before. I always just found a desire to deepen relationships from my circles of friends. I didn’t understand how people could ask someone out without already knowing them. It seemed totally shallow and image-based. Though I didn’t do it, I understand now. He seemed sweet. He seemed real, kind, fun. He seemed…interested on some level. And I could have asked him out and not felt weird about it or afraid of the rejection. I felt like a regular person. Ironic, isn’t it?
24 August 2007
23 August 2007
07 August 2007
Appropriate Potato Salad
So...I'm here at home, and I get the munchies. I go to the fridge, and I remember I have leftovers from last night's potluck at the Matises'. So I take out the potato salad, dish some out, and take a bite, noticing that it's pretty decent potato salad. So as I replace the lid, I check to see what kind of potato salad some pot luck participant brought; the label reads, "San Francisco Potato Salad." Who's the wise guy?
03 August 2007
We Lable People Because It's Fun
In a comment on my Mohos, Mohomies, Mohoochies, Oh My! post, iWonder expressed concern over such extensive use of labels. I replied with another comment. And he wrote a post about his concerns, which I recommend reading, on his own blog. I then responded with the following, which I then shortened and decided, instead, to post on my blog rather than monopolize his comments space.
And it went a little something like this:
-----------------------------
Good thoughts about labels.
Since you have publicly quoted me in your more serious-tending context, I'd like to add that though I can't expect those who don't know me well to perceive my tone, I often speak very tongue-in-cheek and sometimes flippantly, which was the case with my "we label people because it's fun", which was really just me satirically filling the role of a sort of cartoonish class clown showing a certain disregard while waving a banner for the approving accolades of the masses.
You may also have a problem with my apparent flippancy regarding the questioning of labels, and that's cool. I think your perspectives here are significant and should be kept in mind.
You've sparked a lot of thoughts, so instead of obnoxiously taking up even more space on your comments, I'll blog about it myself.
-----------------------------
You mentioned that you're uncomfortable with the way you've heard "moho" used to distinguish people from "homos" as if the active mormon gays consider themselves superior to the doubting ones. I suppose that's basically the same as mormons referring to non-mormons or "less actives" in diminutive tones. If people are, in fact, using the term 'moho' in an elitist way, they have indeed distorted it.
A fairly unique situation and set of decisions is faced by "members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who happen to experience an unusually strong attraction and/or affinity to members of the same sex and/or gender and who nevertheless strive to live by the doctrines of the church". "Mohos" is so much more concise and less tedious to say in groups who already understand what it means.
I, for one, will openly acknowledge that I am generally more comfortable with mohos than homos because, given our fairly unique situation, we generally share certain similar goals, beliefs, and behavioral limits. Generally.
I think that, given certain goals and circumstances, then certain choices are, indeed, "better" than others (I have no problem making certain qualitative assessments).
Does that mean the people making those choices are better? Nope. It's just that certain behaviors and beliefs of theirs which are important to me are more in harmony with mine. And gay mormons generally - again, generally - don't test my limits the way some friends of other faiths (who have no reason to believe my goals make sense) have, so we gravitate.
I also have a few gay friends who are not actively or have never been LDS whom I do love and appreciate for the good peops they are, at least a couple of whom I trust as much as any mohomie. They may be "homo" rather than "moho" and therefore not share some of my beliefs, but to believe labels are all-encompassing and defining would be entirely foolish.
Many people feel hurt when they hear people distinguish themselves using a descriptor they perceive as superior. I prefer to show sensitivity to those people when I'm aware of such. I know the sting of being the one who is NOT "happily married" and who does NOT have a "successful career". But I also recognize those are not meant to sting. They're simply a group of people with whom I would like to identify but do not, so it stings sometimes.
If a label is being used to deride a group of people, it's not the label that is wrong -- it's the derision.
All this said, I think I'm mostly with you. I don't think more and more division is what we need. I would hope we are all mature enough and familiar enough with alienation that we would be sensitive to and not look down on those who we feel don't understand us or who make different decisions. I hope we don't consider them to be inferior and therefore close them out of our lives. To me, identifying as "moho" is not about alienating the ignorant masses or proclaiming superiority over the heathen "homos". It's more about hoping we can identify with each other in positive (and yes, even light-hearted) ways, without becoming a glob of self-righteous elitists.
As far as I can tell, if anyone needs a sense of community, camaraderie, and fellowship, it's gay/lesbian/bisexual members of this church who are trying to live their beliefs. There's no shortage of people out there apparently happily acting on their attractions and enjoying same-sex partnerships (of a romantic and/or sexual nature). And I'm surrounded by active members of the church eagerly seeking and enjoying dating and marriage, oblivious to the pain or disillusionment of those who may not find such easy pleasure in it. Every day, someone or something tries to remind me how foolish I am to be adhering to this religion and not seeking same-sex romance. Every day, someone or something reminds me how faithless I am to not simply become heterosexual and get married.
There have been tough times. I don't deny the pain, the conflict, the loneliness, and the despair I've experienced. But that's not where I am now. So I enjoy identifying myself, light-heartedly, as this odd little anomoly of a homo, this strangely non-conformed mormon. I enjoy feeling a little spark of warmth when I say 'moho' and thereby remember all my mohomies and their mohomies and mohoneys who fully love and embrace them, and I remember that I am, in fact, in good company.
And it went a little something like this:
-----------------------------
Good thoughts about labels.
Since you have publicly quoted me in your more serious-tending context, I'd like to add that though I can't expect those who don't know me well to perceive my tone, I often speak very tongue-in-cheek and sometimes flippantly, which was the case with my "we label people because it's fun", which was really just me satirically filling the role of a sort of cartoonish class clown showing a certain disregard while waving a banner for the approving accolades of the masses.
You may also have a problem with my apparent flippancy regarding the questioning of labels, and that's cool. I think your perspectives here are significant and should be kept in mind.
You've sparked a lot of thoughts, so instead of obnoxiously taking up even more space on your comments, I'll blog about it myself.
-----------------------------
You mentioned that you're uncomfortable with the way you've heard "moho" used to distinguish people from "homos" as if the active mormon gays consider themselves superior to the doubting ones. I suppose that's basically the same as mormons referring to non-mormons or "less actives" in diminutive tones. If people are, in fact, using the term 'moho' in an elitist way, they have indeed distorted it.
A fairly unique situation and set of decisions is faced by "members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints who happen to experience an unusually strong attraction and/or affinity to members of the same sex and/or gender and who nevertheless strive to live by the doctrines of the church". "Mohos" is so much more concise and less tedious to say in groups who already understand what it means.
I, for one, will openly acknowledge that I am generally more comfortable with mohos than homos because, given our fairly unique situation, we generally share certain similar goals, beliefs, and behavioral limits. Generally.
I think that, given certain goals and circumstances, then certain choices are, indeed, "better" than others (I have no problem making certain qualitative assessments).
Does that mean the people making those choices are better? Nope. It's just that certain behaviors and beliefs of theirs which are important to me are more in harmony with mine. And gay mormons generally - again, generally - don't test my limits the way some friends of other faiths (who have no reason to believe my goals make sense) have, so we gravitate.
I also have a few gay friends who are not actively or have never been LDS whom I do love and appreciate for the good peops they are, at least a couple of whom I trust as much as any mohomie. They may be "homo" rather than "moho" and therefore not share some of my beliefs, but to believe labels are all-encompassing and defining would be entirely foolish.
Many people feel hurt when they hear people distinguish themselves using a descriptor they perceive as superior. I prefer to show sensitivity to those people when I'm aware of such. I know the sting of being the one who is NOT "happily married" and who does NOT have a "successful career". But I also recognize those are not meant to sting. They're simply a group of people with whom I would like to identify but do not, so it stings sometimes.
If a label is being used to deride a group of people, it's not the label that is wrong -- it's the derision.
All this said, I think I'm mostly with you. I don't think more and more division is what we need. I would hope we are all mature enough and familiar enough with alienation that we would be sensitive to and not look down on those who we feel don't understand us or who make different decisions. I hope we don't consider them to be inferior and therefore close them out of our lives. To me, identifying as "moho" is not about alienating the ignorant masses or proclaiming superiority over the heathen "homos". It's more about hoping we can identify with each other in positive (and yes, even light-hearted) ways, without becoming a glob of self-righteous elitists.
As far as I can tell, if anyone needs a sense of community, camaraderie, and fellowship, it's gay/lesbian/bisexual members of this church who are trying to live their beliefs. There's no shortage of people out there apparently happily acting on their attractions and enjoying same-sex partnerships (of a romantic and/or sexual nature). And I'm surrounded by active members of the church eagerly seeking and enjoying dating and marriage, oblivious to the pain or disillusionment of those who may not find such easy pleasure in it. Every day, someone or something tries to remind me how foolish I am to be adhering to this religion and not seeking same-sex romance. Every day, someone or something reminds me how faithless I am to not simply become heterosexual and get married.
There have been tough times. I don't deny the pain, the conflict, the loneliness, and the despair I've experienced. But that's not where I am now. So I enjoy identifying myself, light-heartedly, as this odd little anomoly of a homo, this strangely non-conformed mormon. I enjoy feeling a little spark of warmth when I say 'moho' and thereby remember all my mohomies and their mohomies and mohoneys who fully love and embrace them, and I remember that I am, in fact, in good company.
01 August 2007
Marriage, Manlove or Misery
Upon reading some blogs and talking to a friend or two recently, some thoughts are itching to be written.
Those of us who are active members of churches which preach against homosexual relationships and who are attracted to members of our own gender face some unique challenges and decisions. And we get it from both sides.
As much as I tire of hearing church members harp on me that I must find a woman and marry her to be truly happy, I grow equally weary of gay men and women shoving down my throat the notion that I must necessarily be miserable if I never find a same-sex romantic partner.
I don't subscribe to these false dichotomies. They're convenient for sob stories or "get over it" speeches, but I just don't buy that my happiness hinges on finding a romantic partner. As wonderful as romance has been and would be, there's a lot more to my life.
All else equal, I don't doubt I'd be happier with a partner with whom I feel complete attraction my whole life.
However, all else being equal, I'd be happier fathering children of my own with a woman I love, even if the sex isn't as great as it might be with a man.
All else being equal, I'd be happier determining my beliefs and living by those, regardless of romance.
All else being equal, I'd be happier with better health.
Unfortunately (or fortunately?), many people in the world simply have imperfect lives. Imperfect bodies. Imperfect upbringing. Imperfect psychology. Imperfect health. They miss out on many beauties of life because of circumstances beyond their control.
We tend to mourn that which we feel we've been robbed of. It's natural. We tend to place huge value on that which we feel we weren't given the chance to have. It's understandable.
But the fact remains: I'm given a choice. I can choose to have faith in and believe a set of doctrines which preclude homosexual relationships and then do with that what I will. Or I can reject those doctrines and do with that what I will.
If I choose to accept them, I then can choose to try my hand at marrying a woman and raising children. Or I can choose to find richness in other relationships and contribute my talents and energy to society in varied and meaningful ways regardless of marital status. Or I can defy those doctrines and beliefs and look for happiness somewhere between believing them and rejecting them, compromising because of the situation I was so unfairly thrust into.
I can also choose to reject those doctrines and free myself of the oppression of religion. I can then seek whatever it is I feel will make me happiest in this life without guilt and without bitterness.
Or I can stay in the church because...well... who knows why? Because it's part of my heritage? Because it's a good structure? And gloss over the positive and rail against it and vocalize anger and frustration for being exactly what it has been since I embraced it.
I understand feeling bitter about it. Believe me I do. Been there. Sometimes go there. But at some point, I have to remember that though I may feel beaten down by much of the rhetoric at church meetings, it's ME, not anyone else, who chooses to go back. And the church, being made up of humans, will have elements of human imperfection I can learn to accept just like I accept the humanity in those I love. Why do you go back?
Sometimes we just have to vent, and we feel trapped, and we feel abused, and we feel mistreated and marginalized. And often we actually are. But at some point, I have to OWN my situation NOW. OWN my choices. Is everyone else responsible for my happiness? Is someone MAKING me choose not to find a wonderful man and settle down with him? Or am I making that choice? Is anyone forcing me to identify as LDS? Or am I choosing to stay in the church?
Sure, I would like things to be different. I'd love for everything I want to somehow be reconciled and attainable without having to make unwanted sacrifices. But until they are, if they ever can or should be, I refuse to play the martyr and make myself a victim.
Yeah, it's hard. And there's SO much misunderstanding in our society about our situation, both from the religious community and the gay community. Life's hard at times. Our situation is very unique. But having a seemingly lifelong dilemma is not. Being unmarried for life is not. Marital trouble is not. Just try to remember this when it gets especially hard and you feel especially unfairly positioned in life.
I love my friends even when they seem unable to let go of the bitterness and pain and depression over being torn the way they are, because I know some degree of that turmoil. I hope for their lasting happiness and my own, and I'm confident it's attainable.
Those of us who are active members of churches which preach against homosexual relationships and who are attracted to members of our own gender face some unique challenges and decisions. And we get it from both sides.
As much as I tire of hearing church members harp on me that I must find a woman and marry her to be truly happy, I grow equally weary of gay men and women shoving down my throat the notion that I must necessarily be miserable if I never find a same-sex romantic partner.
I don't subscribe to these false dichotomies. They're convenient for sob stories or "get over it" speeches, but I just don't buy that my happiness hinges on finding a romantic partner. As wonderful as romance has been and would be, there's a lot more to my life.
All else equal, I don't doubt I'd be happier with a partner with whom I feel complete attraction my whole life.
However, all else being equal, I'd be happier fathering children of my own with a woman I love, even if the sex isn't as great as it might be with a man.
All else being equal, I'd be happier determining my beliefs and living by those, regardless of romance.
All else being equal, I'd be happier with better health.
Unfortunately (or fortunately?), many people in the world simply have imperfect lives. Imperfect bodies. Imperfect upbringing. Imperfect psychology. Imperfect health. They miss out on many beauties of life because of circumstances beyond their control.
We tend to mourn that which we feel we've been robbed of. It's natural. We tend to place huge value on that which we feel we weren't given the chance to have. It's understandable.
But the fact remains: I'm given a choice. I can choose to have faith in and believe a set of doctrines which preclude homosexual relationships and then do with that what I will. Or I can reject those doctrines and do with that what I will.
If I choose to accept them, I then can choose to try my hand at marrying a woman and raising children. Or I can choose to find richness in other relationships and contribute my talents and energy to society in varied and meaningful ways regardless of marital status. Or I can defy those doctrines and beliefs and look for happiness somewhere between believing them and rejecting them, compromising because of the situation I was so unfairly thrust into.
I can also choose to reject those doctrines and free myself of the oppression of religion. I can then seek whatever it is I feel will make me happiest in this life without guilt and without bitterness.
Or I can stay in the church because...well... who knows why? Because it's part of my heritage? Because it's a good structure? And gloss over the positive and rail against it and vocalize anger and frustration for being exactly what it has been since I embraced it.
I understand feeling bitter about it. Believe me I do. Been there. Sometimes go there. But at some point, I have to remember that though I may feel beaten down by much of the rhetoric at church meetings, it's ME, not anyone else, who chooses to go back. And the church, being made up of humans, will have elements of human imperfection I can learn to accept just like I accept the humanity in those I love. Why do you go back?
Sometimes we just have to vent, and we feel trapped, and we feel abused, and we feel mistreated and marginalized. And often we actually are. But at some point, I have to OWN my situation NOW. OWN my choices. Is everyone else responsible for my happiness? Is someone MAKING me choose not to find a wonderful man and settle down with him? Or am I making that choice? Is anyone forcing me to identify as LDS? Or am I choosing to stay in the church?
Sure, I would like things to be different. I'd love for everything I want to somehow be reconciled and attainable without having to make unwanted sacrifices. But until they are, if they ever can or should be, I refuse to play the martyr and make myself a victim.
Yeah, it's hard. And there's SO much misunderstanding in our society about our situation, both from the religious community and the gay community. Life's hard at times. Our situation is very unique. But having a seemingly lifelong dilemma is not. Being unmarried for life is not. Marital trouble is not. Just try to remember this when it gets especially hard and you feel especially unfairly positioned in life.
I love my friends even when they seem unable to let go of the bitterness and pain and depression over being torn the way they are, because I know some degree of that turmoil. I hope for their lasting happiness and my own, and I'm confident it's attainable.
Mohos, Mohomies, Mohoochies, Oh My!
Talking with a moho friend not long ago, I heard that another moho friend of mine has been using a moho term in a way I had not intended, and now I'm beginning to wonder if he's on to something here. So I'm turning to you, the blogging community, for a little input.OK, most of us know a moho is someone who is LDS and gay who generally considers their spiritual/religious identity to be more significant in determining their decisions than their sexual orientation. Basically, that's it in a nutshell, if you ask me, which you probably should.
The state or condition of being a moho could be called mohoness. The ever-growing community of mohos, along with our little subculture, can be called mohodom. You get the picture.
One of my moho friends, after enthusiastically adopting this term, extended it some, and he started calling his supportive but "non-challenged" female friends "mohoochies", which they accepted as a term of endearment, as it was intended, of course. Which is good. Nobody wants to upset a mohoochie.
Then he apparently started using the term "mohomies" for hetero guys who are understanding and supportive. I've always used the term just to refer to my moho buddies, but now I'm beginning to wonder...I think both deserve some sort of title, but I'm a little torn regarding to which group I should apply the "mohomie" label. Of course, if the definition of "mohomie" is changed, I may have to rename my blogging identity, but I am willing to make sacrifices for the greater good of mohodom, should there be a consensus to push for it.
And is there an alternative to "mohoochies"? Something... prettier? Kind of like the difference between "fag hag" and "fruit fly"?
Are there any other terms floating around out there you'd like to share with me? I'm all ears. ...eyes. ...whatever.
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