I've known of a couple of guys who have recently started coming to terms with their homosexuality and are looking for resources to help. A few of my friends and acquaintances recommend the "Jason Park" books, but I just have to pipe up and mention that I'm not so sure a Jason Park book is the best for a guy who's just realizing his SGA. But it probably depends on the person. I, personally, would recommend 'In Quiet Desperation' as a first read. It was good for me for a few reasons, including the following:
1) I really identified with Ty's thought processes.
2) Stuart's story served as a bit of a cautionary tale and was strangely hopeful in the way his parents dealt with the aftermath.
3) Ty tends to stick to what is generally known about SGA and admits where there is, as of yet, no real consensus; he's (in my opinion) more careful to not lead people into a certain, specific mode of thought regarding SGA than most authors on the subject.
4) It often brings the reader back to the scriptures in a meaningful and atonement-centered way. It's far less clinical and mechanical than the Evergreen-sponsored books I've looked at. It seems to me to be more emotional and spiritual in nature, an approach which I think then makes the more mechanical efforts more meaningful.
I will admit openly that I have only read part of Jason Park's book, Resolving Homosexual Problems, and it looks like it has a lot of good advice to offer. My beef with it is exemplified in the title: it seems inordinately fraught with the implication that all things SGA are 'problems', trials, meant to be eschewed. It just seems harsh to me for someone who is still tender about the issue. The author constantly encourages the reader that change is possible without clarifying well that the statistical evidence indicates that changing from SSA to OSA may, in fact, NOT be possible for some or many people. If the reader is one of the statistics of inability to change, where do they find encouragement?
It's a book about change. And forgive me for my apparant faithlessness, but I just really believe that with an issue like this, a person needs to feel whole, loved, and welcome in the gospel even as they are to then more meaningfully approach change from a healthy viewpoint.
There very well may be people out there who would not benefit from In Quiet Desperation the way I did. I just take issue with the notion that 'Jason Park' books are "always good to start with." I think there are probably better ways for most people to begin learning about homosexuality in a gospel context without feeding into a probably already existing feeling that they can only be truly happy and at peace once they have "changed". I realize not everyone sees it the way I do, so I will just shrug and respect their opinion and insistence that Resolving Homosexual Problems is a great first read, but I simply have to speak up and share my opinion, too. I mean no disrespect or slander towards Jason Park. I think his writings do have a place. I just prefer other writings first.
30 April 2008
Glimpses of the one you felt for
*** Published 27 Oct 2010 ***
It's hard when you realize you don't bring out the best in someone in whom you used to think you saw the best. You interact with them, and the interaction is always stifled by something. They don't smile like they used to. They don't feel like they can just be themselves. And neither do you. Then you see them with other friends, and they look so at ease, and for a moment, you see the person for whom you feel so much affection, but you realize that person is only there when you are not, and it's a little like mourning the loss of someone you no longer know.
It's hard when you realize you don't bring out the best in someone in whom you used to think you saw the best. You interact with them, and the interaction is always stifled by something. They don't smile like they used to. They don't feel like they can just be themselves. And neither do you. Then you see them with other friends, and they look so at ease, and for a moment, you see the person for whom you feel so much affection, but you realize that person is only there when you are not, and it's a little like mourning the loss of someone you no longer know.
Lost That Lovin' Feeling
*** Published 27 Oct 2010 ***
It's been quite a while since I've had a consistent...drive. I suppose my experiences with a few confusing friendships and observations of the emotional weirdness and NCMO sluttiness around me may have had some influence on my eagerness to engage in such behavior, but I can't help but wonder if I'm just plain getting old. Maybe I'm depressed. Maybe I'm "maturing". BORING!
I kind of miss feeling an overflowing sexual energy.
It's been quite a while since I've had a consistent...drive. I suppose my experiences with a few confusing friendships and observations of the emotional weirdness and NCMO sluttiness around me may have had some influence on my eagerness to engage in such behavior, but I can't help but wonder if I'm just plain getting old. Maybe I'm depressed. Maybe I'm "maturing". BORING!
I kind of miss feeling an overflowing sexual energy.
29 April 2008
Why Be Friends When You Can Just Have Sex?
Addendum (AKA damage control): the statement in the first paragraph was misrepresented as originally written. Upon re-reading the entry and reviewing that evening in my mind, I've realized my own mood and disappointments colored the comment, and I connected meaning to it that may not have been there. I also originally decided to simplify the story, but simplification isn't worth leaving someone feeling completely misrepresented, even if I didn't say who it was, so I have revised this entry in an attempt to represent it at least somewhat more accurately.
Reminder #3,593 how I'm just not normal.
During a conversation with a few gay friends, one asked who each of us would most want to have sex with out of the people present. I was tired, and the question seemed crude and juvenile to me, and I refused to answer at first, but when pressed, I was the stick in the mud and answered seriously: I said none, but if I had to choose, it would have to be the person I knew best, because I just couldn't enjoy sex like I'd want without trust and a real connection. Everyone else seemed to have an answer, and one said something like, "Well, there are people you want to have sex with, and there are people you want to know." This person may read this entry, and if you do, I still love you, but due to my already-disgusted mood that evening and the thoughts I (probably incorrectly) associated with it, that statement was quite a turn-off. I realize the question was posed mostly out of lighthearted fun, and the answers weren't meant to be a deep exploration. I don't think he meant he actually would be physically intimate with someone he didn't have a real connection with.
Nevertheless, I had been facing the disappointing realization more than ever that most guys do seem to think along those lines to some extent. And don't get me wrong--I also totally see a hotty and think, "Oh my gosh, pass me the whipped cream. NOW." The thing is, when I think about actually following through with that, it kind of grosses me out, and I think, "No way. Not without dinner and some really good conversation first." *tongue in cheek* The sad part is, I then look at the random hotty and most often realize I don't have much interest in conversation with him, based on initial appearances, so carrying through with the whole physical thing probably wouldn't stand a chance, and I move along with my day. Of course, that doesn't keep me from biting my knuckle at said hotness and wishing there were personality to back that up so I'd be more tempted...'cause it's fun to be tempted...no, temptation bad!
But many things I've seen and heard confirm every disgusting stereotype about the pigs men are, and I feel like an oddity, an anomaly of sorts. I realize this is probably sounding like a preachfest, and that's totally not how I mean it to come across. I mean, that's the quickest way to kill the fun of a flippant post. I'm simply stating my observations here, actions, behaviors, and attitudes. And I realize I'm not the only one who feels this way. I'm just really turned off to trying to pursue anything with a guy if this is what most of us are about.
Maybe I should just stick with girls. Gosh! OK, I'll start dating girls...next weekend. Oh, I'm busy all weekend. OK, maybe the next weekend. Oh shoot, busy that weekend, too. Too bad...
Reminder #3,593 how I'm just not normal.
During a conversation with a few gay friends, one asked who each of us would most want to have sex with out of the people present. I was tired, and the question seemed crude and juvenile to me, and I refused to answer at first, but when pressed, I was the stick in the mud and answered seriously: I said none, but if I had to choose, it would have to be the person I knew best, because I just couldn't enjoy sex like I'd want without trust and a real connection. Everyone else seemed to have an answer, and one said something like, "Well, there are people you want to have sex with, and there are people you want to know." This person may read this entry, and if you do, I still love you, but due to my already-disgusted mood that evening and the thoughts I (probably incorrectly) associated with it, that statement was quite a turn-off. I realize the question was posed mostly out of lighthearted fun, and the answers weren't meant to be a deep exploration. I don't think he meant he actually would be physically intimate with someone he didn't have a real connection with.
Nevertheless, I had been facing the disappointing realization more than ever that most guys do seem to think along those lines to some extent. And don't get me wrong--I also totally see a hotty and think, "Oh my gosh, pass me the whipped cream. NOW." The thing is, when I think about actually following through with that, it kind of grosses me out, and I think, "No way. Not without dinner and some really good conversation first." *tongue in cheek* The sad part is, I then look at the random hotty and most often realize I don't have much interest in conversation with him, based on initial appearances, so carrying through with the whole physical thing probably wouldn't stand a chance, and I move along with my day. Of course, that doesn't keep me from biting my knuckle at said hotness and wishing there were personality to back that up so I'd be more tempted...'cause it's fun to be tempted...no, temptation bad!
But many things I've seen and heard confirm every disgusting stereotype about the pigs men are, and I feel like an oddity, an anomaly of sorts. I realize this is probably sounding like a preachfest, and that's totally not how I mean it to come across. I mean, that's the quickest way to kill the fun of a flippant post. I'm simply stating my observations here, actions, behaviors, and attitudes. And I realize I'm not the only one who feels this way. I'm just really turned off to trying to pursue anything with a guy if this is what most of us are about.
Maybe I should just stick with girls. Gosh! OK, I'll start dating girls...next weekend. Oh, I'm busy all weekend. OK, maybe the next weekend. Oh shoot, busy that weekend, too. Too bad...
Honor Code Schmonor Code
*** Published 27 Oct 2010 ***
*** Thoughts on 27 Oct 2010: I do have friends who have had really tough situations related to the Honor Code which I don't envy and to whom I don't specifically preach because I don't know what it's like to be in their shoes. Her beliefs changed, he didn't have another clear option for schooling, she had a family to support, he found the man of his dreams and couldn't bring himself to pass up dating him quietly, etc, so they broke some of the Honor Code rules and thought of it like breaking the speed limit: you know it's against policy, but you're not convinced there's anything inherently wrong with the actions, so you do it secretly until you have your diploma in-hand. I understand that's really difficult. At some point, I still think you have to acknowledge, particularly when you're completely flipping off the Honor Code rather than just "fudging", that you're breaking a promise and should either get through your last year as compliant as possible or finish your education elsewhere. In a way, I'm kinda hung up on the notion that a promise is a promise, hence this more blunt tirade I wrote a couple of years ago. ***
My potentially offensive, insensitive two cents: I don't care how damaged you feel, and I don't care how wrong you believe the code is--if you signed on to it, if you gave your word that you were going to uphold and live by it (which every BYU student has done), you do it. Period. Strap on a pair, insert a spine, and strive to live what you said or go live the way you want or believe elsewhere.
Nobody's perfect. We all have our weak moments. We do things we promised not to. We don't do things we promised to. The difference between a great man and a foolish one is the great man will acknowledge his folly and resolve to do better next time. The foolish man will defend his folly and live by it rather than admit when he is damaging his own integrity.
There are many on BYU's campus, gay, bi, and straight, who have demonstrated a lack of integrity by the very fact that they knowingly committed to something they never intended to uphold, or they have decided what feels nicest right now is more important than keeping their word.
I've done similar things myself at times, so I speak as one who has been a fool. At the time, I justified my actions. Looking back, I know that even in the moment, I knew I was losing character by doing what I was doing. I was losing my spine. So pulpit-pounding I may be, but I would like to see more men, fewer boys.
I mean, with all the fooling around among BYU students, you'd expect to find more balls.
*** Thoughts on 27 Oct 2010: I do have friends who have had really tough situations related to the Honor Code which I don't envy and to whom I don't specifically preach because I don't know what it's like to be in their shoes. Her beliefs changed, he didn't have another clear option for schooling, she had a family to support, he found the man of his dreams and couldn't bring himself to pass up dating him quietly, etc, so they broke some of the Honor Code rules and thought of it like breaking the speed limit: you know it's against policy, but you're not convinced there's anything inherently wrong with the actions, so you do it secretly until you have your diploma in-hand. I understand that's really difficult. At some point, I still think you have to acknowledge, particularly when you're completely flipping off the Honor Code rather than just "fudging", that you're breaking a promise and should either get through your last year as compliant as possible or finish your education elsewhere. In a way, I'm kinda hung up on the notion that a promise is a promise, hence this more blunt tirade I wrote a couple of years ago. ***
My potentially offensive, insensitive two cents: I don't care how damaged you feel, and I don't care how wrong you believe the code is--if you signed on to it, if you gave your word that you were going to uphold and live by it (which every BYU student has done), you do it. Period. Strap on a pair, insert a spine, and strive to live what you said or go live the way you want or believe elsewhere.
Nobody's perfect. We all have our weak moments. We do things we promised not to. We don't do things we promised to. The difference between a great man and a foolish one is the great man will acknowledge his folly and resolve to do better next time. The foolish man will defend his folly and live by it rather than admit when he is damaging his own integrity.
There are many on BYU's campus, gay, bi, and straight, who have demonstrated a lack of integrity by the very fact that they knowingly committed to something they never intended to uphold, or they have decided what feels nicest right now is more important than keeping their word.
I've done similar things myself at times, so I speak as one who has been a fool. At the time, I justified my actions. Looking back, I know that even in the moment, I knew I was losing character by doing what I was doing. I was losing my spine. So pulpit-pounding I may be, but I would like to see more men, fewer boys.
I mean, with all the fooling around among BYU students, you'd expect to find more balls.
28 April 2008
A Friend's Struggle Fitting In
I had a friend in college who was just starting to come back to church. She had been baptized as a teenager and remained active for a while, but as time wore on, and social ties came and went, she distanced herself from the church and stopped going.
While she claimed, to most people, that she had joined for primarily social reasons, she confessed to me, in private discussion, that she had, indeed, felt what she had been taught was true and really wanted to embrace it, but she just felt like she didn't fit it and since her original circle of friends back home had drifted apart, she hadn't felt happy being among other members of the church. She felt like people looked down on her for not being "girly" enough, not being demure or soft. She thought people couldn't handle her rough-around-the-edges demeanor. She hung out with a somewhat rough-talking crowd, and there simply weren't people like that at church she felt like she connected with. And she was largely correct. The "polite", soft-spoken girls at church didn't know how to react to or relate to this tough broad who had shown up at church with a defensive attitude. So with the exception of a few, they returned defense with defense.
One of her most obviously non-compatible behaviors was drinking alcohol. Regularly. Sometimes heavily. Partying. Going to the bars. These are activities most active LDS girls aren't going to understand or relate to. Heck, I don't. And they are activities which would keep her from full fellowship. But almost her entire social circle was centered around social drinking. She said she wanted to come back to church. She wanted to be active in church again, and part of that was cutting out the alcohol consumption. To reduce or avoid drinking, she had to avoid certain friends. She had to clear her fridge. She had to explain her abstinence to her friends without sounding ridiculous or preachy, which was not easy.
When you cut out part of your life, it is bound to leave a void, a hole, which must be somehow filled. I tried to help her come up with ideas, but we were talking about an entire lifestyle change, and she didn't see how it was possible. I didn't have time to fill in all of the social time left by not being at parties and the bar(going and not drinking was not an option--the temptation was too great to resist if it was right in front of her). We tried to connect her with other people, but there was always the problem of her not being able to relate deeply enough to any of the girls in the wards, and vice versa. And the Relief Society seemed to reach out only when she would stop coming to church. As long as she was attending, she felt like an invisible presence, barely noticed, but when she didn't come, and she'd THEN get cookies and a note, it was hard for her to see them as anything other than a half-hearted attempt to fulfill their duty to keep the sisters active.
She would go for times without alcohol. She went for quite a while a couple of times, going to church, avoiding alcohol, and when she was doing it, she told me and another friend how good she felt, and we could see it in her face, in her eyes. She seemed to be feeling more confident, more peaceful, more hopeful. It seemed she was beginning to believe this could be done, and she could be an active and faithful member of the church.
But the "crashes" came, and they were devastating. She would change to despair and bitterness in the space of a couple of days after drinking or realizing how great the changes she was making really were. It was unnerving and uncomfortable and lonely. She had given up a lot of time with many friends, and there seemed to be nobody to fill in. Without the support of an entire ward, I felt somewhat helpless and unable to offer her the encouragement I wanted that she would develop great social circles and eventually find the strength to be with her regular friends again without being overly tempted to fall back into behaviors because she would always have a support system to help her. I couldn't do it. I wasn't sure it would happen. So all I could offer was my assurance that although it's a hard and lonely road, it would be worth it in the end to have more control over herself and her choices, and even when it doesn't make sense right now and we can't see how it will possibly work out, sometimes it takes several steps in the dark before we can look back, realize how far we've come, and realize that though it's not always clear ahead, we are on a path towards ultimate peace and joy, and we wouldn't want to go back, even if it would, in some ways, be comfortable to go back. But even as I tried to reassure her of that, I could see in her eyes that it may not help. I was beginning to understand that sometimes, those promises simply don't seem sure enough.
It seemed to me that in her eyes, from her experience, making an effort to live by the doctrines and practices of the church today brought misery, loneliness, a huge void, and uncertainty. It alienated her from some family and many friends. And all it offered, in return, were promises that one day, she'd somehow be happy and have "glory" which she wasn't sure she wanted if it meant feeling lonely and "not like herself".
I saw a few things, from my perspective, that I had wished I could have somehow put into her mind:
As far as I could tell at the time, it was not living gospel principles that brought misery upon her but the perspective with which she did it and the lack of abiding, enduring conviction of why she was doing it and the lack of certainty as to whether she truly believed the promise that no matter what, it was worth doing. Maybe it was an offering she was not willing to make because she wasn't convinced the blessings would pan out as promised. Perhaps it was more than "she traded eternal happiness for short-term comfort." Or maybe she just didn't quite give it the full effort and needed to exercise more patience and faith in the unseen. What I finally decided was, "I just don't know. Maybe she's made a good effort, and she can come back to this again later and try again, and maybe that's OK. Everyone has their own timelines, and there are lessons learned all along the way. Maybe there are other things for her to focus on which will set her on a track to be ready to try again later. It's not mine to decide." I talked to her about focusing on testimony and sorting out her beliefs, and letting some of the behavioral things come later, in due order. But she was already quite discouraged, worn out.
While her experiences, backgrounds, personality and "temptations" are different from mine--and no, I don't think it's fair to directly compare alcoholism or heavy drinking with homosexual attraction--I think there are parallels in the feelings of isolation, misunderstanding, and other related feelings. Having been with her through her experience adds to and brings balance to my perspective on my own situation. I am not in the same unflinchingly faithful state I was back then. I do question a lot of things. I doubt some things. Sometimes I'd like to have the confidence I used to have that if this is Christ's church restored, then anything is worth laying on the altar of sacrifice, and I can and should be willing to give up even cherished feelings and emotions, and I should trust that the resulting peace will be well worth it. It's hard to know.
Maybe someday. But either way, I'm confident I'll be OK and can live life well. I wonder how she's doing.
While she claimed, to most people, that she had joined for primarily social reasons, she confessed to me, in private discussion, that she had, indeed, felt what she had been taught was true and really wanted to embrace it, but she just felt like she didn't fit it and since her original circle of friends back home had drifted apart, she hadn't felt happy being among other members of the church. She felt like people looked down on her for not being "girly" enough, not being demure or soft. She thought people couldn't handle her rough-around-the-edges demeanor. She hung out with a somewhat rough-talking crowd, and there simply weren't people like that at church she felt like she connected with. And she was largely correct. The "polite", soft-spoken girls at church didn't know how to react to or relate to this tough broad who had shown up at church with a defensive attitude. So with the exception of a few, they returned defense with defense.
One of her most obviously non-compatible behaviors was drinking alcohol. Regularly. Sometimes heavily. Partying. Going to the bars. These are activities most active LDS girls aren't going to understand or relate to. Heck, I don't. And they are activities which would keep her from full fellowship. But almost her entire social circle was centered around social drinking. She said she wanted to come back to church. She wanted to be active in church again, and part of that was cutting out the alcohol consumption. To reduce or avoid drinking, she had to avoid certain friends. She had to clear her fridge. She had to explain her abstinence to her friends without sounding ridiculous or preachy, which was not easy.
When you cut out part of your life, it is bound to leave a void, a hole, which must be somehow filled. I tried to help her come up with ideas, but we were talking about an entire lifestyle change, and she didn't see how it was possible. I didn't have time to fill in all of the social time left by not being at parties and the bar(going and not drinking was not an option--the temptation was too great to resist if it was right in front of her). We tried to connect her with other people, but there was always the problem of her not being able to relate deeply enough to any of the girls in the wards, and vice versa. And the Relief Society seemed to reach out only when she would stop coming to church. As long as she was attending, she felt like an invisible presence, barely noticed, but when she didn't come, and she'd THEN get cookies and a note, it was hard for her to see them as anything other than a half-hearted attempt to fulfill their duty to keep the sisters active.
She would go for times without alcohol. She went for quite a while a couple of times, going to church, avoiding alcohol, and when she was doing it, she told me and another friend how good she felt, and we could see it in her face, in her eyes. She seemed to be feeling more confident, more peaceful, more hopeful. It seemed she was beginning to believe this could be done, and she could be an active and faithful member of the church.
But the "crashes" came, and they were devastating. She would change to despair and bitterness in the space of a couple of days after drinking or realizing how great the changes she was making really were. It was unnerving and uncomfortable and lonely. She had given up a lot of time with many friends, and there seemed to be nobody to fill in. Without the support of an entire ward, I felt somewhat helpless and unable to offer her the encouragement I wanted that she would develop great social circles and eventually find the strength to be with her regular friends again without being overly tempted to fall back into behaviors because she would always have a support system to help her. I couldn't do it. I wasn't sure it would happen. So all I could offer was my assurance that although it's a hard and lonely road, it would be worth it in the end to have more control over herself and her choices, and even when it doesn't make sense right now and we can't see how it will possibly work out, sometimes it takes several steps in the dark before we can look back, realize how far we've come, and realize that though it's not always clear ahead, we are on a path towards ultimate peace and joy, and we wouldn't want to go back, even if it would, in some ways, be comfortable to go back. But even as I tried to reassure her of that, I could see in her eyes that it may not help. I was beginning to understand that sometimes, those promises simply don't seem sure enough.
It seemed to me that in her eyes, from her experience, making an effort to live by the doctrines and practices of the church today brought misery, loneliness, a huge void, and uncertainty. It alienated her from some family and many friends. And all it offered, in return, were promises that one day, she'd somehow be happy and have "glory" which she wasn't sure she wanted if it meant feeling lonely and "not like herself".
I saw a few things, from my perspective, that I had wished I could have somehow put into her mind:
- I've been through times when I felt completely alone as a result of being obedient and faithful the best I knew how. It took time, and it took long periods of uncertainty whether it would ever get better. It took more than a few weeks. There were times I saw few rewards for my behaviors. But it was my abiding belief and the peace within me that I knew my motivations were good that kept me going.
- I wanted to assure her that doing the right thing sucks sometimes but was worth it.
- I wanted to convince her that sometimes there is a lot of pain and opening of wounds before healing can begin, but refusing to allow or endure the intense initial pain would prevent the longterm healing and leave her with a never-ending ache.
- I wanted to assure her that not all wards are the same, and everyone else in the church is just as flawed as she or I, so we all put up with each other's flaws and love what and where we can, and even if every member of the church holds a certain false prejudice or treats me badly, it's not ultimately about them anyway, it's between me and the big guy.
- I wished she could see the commandments as perhaps not always perfect in application but given by authority and are therefore not optional, but also worth following if only to prove that we are willing to put anything on the altar for the Lord, within the existing gospel framework, even if it doesn't always make sense, in the moment, why we have to.
As far as I could tell at the time, it was not living gospel principles that brought misery upon her but the perspective with which she did it and the lack of abiding, enduring conviction of why she was doing it and the lack of certainty as to whether she truly believed the promise that no matter what, it was worth doing. Maybe it was an offering she was not willing to make because she wasn't convinced the blessings would pan out as promised. Perhaps it was more than "she traded eternal happiness for short-term comfort." Or maybe she just didn't quite give it the full effort and needed to exercise more patience and faith in the unseen. What I finally decided was, "I just don't know. Maybe she's made a good effort, and she can come back to this again later and try again, and maybe that's OK. Everyone has their own timelines, and there are lessons learned all along the way. Maybe there are other things for her to focus on which will set her on a track to be ready to try again later. It's not mine to decide." I talked to her about focusing on testimony and sorting out her beliefs, and letting some of the behavioral things come later, in due order. But she was already quite discouraged, worn out.
While her experiences, backgrounds, personality and "temptations" are different from mine--and no, I don't think it's fair to directly compare alcoholism or heavy drinking with homosexual attraction--I think there are parallels in the feelings of isolation, misunderstanding, and other related feelings. Having been with her through her experience adds to and brings balance to my perspective on my own situation. I am not in the same unflinchingly faithful state I was back then. I do question a lot of things. I doubt some things. Sometimes I'd like to have the confidence I used to have that if this is Christ's church restored, then anything is worth laying on the altar of sacrifice, and I can and should be willing to give up even cherished feelings and emotions, and I should trust that the resulting peace will be well worth it. It's hard to know.
Maybe someday. But either way, I'm confident I'll be OK and can live life well. I wonder how she's doing.
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