caution: wet floor...

       my long-time readers probably won't remember the incident several years ago when i passed out after giving plasma. it was mildly entertaining. i had been fine during the donation, but it was later, as i was leaving, that i noticed my arm had been improperly bandaged and that i was bleeding again. i had asked for help and someone changed the bandage, and just as she was finishing i woke up on the floor. well... it happened again yesterday. this time she had even walked away when i started feeling woozy. i really don't like the sight of blood gushing out of me without the tubes and machines attached to give it back. but i crouched on the ground and put my head between my knees because i knew i was going. a couple female employees asked me if i was ok and told me to get up and sit on one of the beds. when i said that i just needed to breathe, they came to me and tried to help me up. then i woke up on the floor. apparently there was another guy who had come up to help and it was his arms that i passed out in. he was pretty cute, too. anyway, this episode was particularly embarrassing because when i realized that i was bleeding i was on my way to the bathroom because i really had to pee. and when i woke up i didn't have to anymore. yeah...

       probably one of the more embarrassing moments of my life. especially because they were pretty busy and there were all sorts of people around. but one kind employee threw her lab coat over me so that it just looked like they were keeping me warm. and they gave me a pair of scrubs to wear home. except they only had one pair of spare scrubs and they were 2XLs. now i was very happy for them, but i have a 30-inch waist and they gave me a pair of pants that would fit an individual with a 56-inch waist. so i got to say cool things like "it's hammer time!" as i was driving home. it's ok, you can laugh. i am.

       i think i'm going to go see a movie tonight. i really need to get out of the house. someone want to come with me? please?

---

day twenty-eight. say something to your fifteen year old self.

       garret already said it to his fifteen year old self, but i had thought of it before he posted his (i swear!). because if there was anything i needed to hear it was this: you're gay. get over it. enjoy it. spare yourself the heartache and insanity.

a note on hate...

<edit note> a good friend corrected my unintended yet improper and rather insensitive use of the word pharisee, for which i apologize. the phrase has been removed. </note>

       so that whole huckabee thing really pissed me off. i rather liked garett's rant about it. so the other night in my own righteous anger i posted on my facebook (along with a link to the article), "if anyone agrees with this f*cktard please defriend me now. kthxbai." that started a nice little poop storm on my facebook wall. as i mentioned before i was raised mormon (more or less), and i'm still connected via social networking to many of these friends from what increasingly feels like my former life -- the life i'm slowly trying to climb up out of. so a few of the more outspoken ones felt the need to throw in their two cents instead of kindly granting my request (granted, there were actually more who posted that they also thought it was bull, but i'm talking about the others for now). a few stepped in and sounded their ideas of loving the person, not the sin, and that friendships are certainly still possible and desired. one person even said that it's a shame that i can't be friends with people who don't share my views.

       i really have to question that.

       frankly, that kind of a relationship just doesn't work for me. if you say you love me and want to have a good christian friendship with me out of one side of your mouth then from the other side say that i'm a sinner bound for hell and vote to strip me of my rights because you don't agree with my "choices" -- well that's not exactly love, is it? i certainly respect other views and i firmly believe that they should be able to express those views, but i really have no desire to maintain friendships with people who believe that i'm going to hell (a.k.a. bigots). i'm trying to cut out the negativity in my life, not invite more in. it took me over a decade to deal with all of that crap and i really don't want to have it around if i can avoid it. maybe i'm being an intolerant a**hole, but i think it's ok to be a little intolerant of intolerance, no?

       what do you think?

no more secrets: my coming out story, part two...

(click for part one)

       it was sunday afternoon. i had a little speech prepared, just a few sentences. my car was packed, coat on, and i had already said goodbye to my grandmother. i went back up to my room to conspicuously make sure i hadn't left anything behind, but really it was to get the little package wrapped in plain brown paper -- and to catch my breath while taking a last look out my window over the snow covered lawn, the poplars draped in white, and the frozen pond. that had always been one of my favorite views, but it wasn't very soothing this time. i knew that it could very possibly be the last time i saw it. i listened to my parents downstairs, dad was patiently explaining something football related to my mom, and hearing their voices made my heart race all the more. i don't remember walking down the stairs. i think it was one of those "i'm not ready but i'm doing it anyway" sort of moments. i stood a little awkwardly at the bottom of the staircase, holding the package and wondering what to do. finally i mustered a "can i talk to you guys?" followed by "i have something else for you."

       i handed the package to my mother and sat beside her on the couch, telling her not to open it yet. dad was on the other couch, reclining, watching the game. he got up, turned off the tv, and returned to his seat. both of them looked at me, wondering, and i forgot how to speak. suddenly my little speech was horribly wrong -- too formal, too long, too lost in the rush of adrenaline. "it's not a christmas present," i said. i didn't want them to be disappointed. heh. struggling for words, i finally just said, "open it."

       my mom opened it, upside down, saw that it was a book, and asked in all seriousness if i had been published and was giving them a copy. i wished that were the case. "no," i said rather awkwardly, "i'm gay."

       my dad went quiet. my mom looked like someone had just punched her. "what?!" she said. and the questions started; not rapid fire, but measured, with processing time between each: hot, sticky, and painful seconds that wouldn't tick by fast enough. "are you sure?" "how do you know?" "are you sure?" "do you have a boyfriend?" "have you had sex?" "you're attracted to men?" "but you dated girls--what about them?" "you were attracted to them, weren't you?" "what about rene? she was cute. or erin?" "who else knows?" "do you go to gay bars?" "are you promiscuous?" "do you believe in the bible?" "what about sodom and gomorrah?" "you know aids is a very real thing, don't you?" "just because you like to bake and act and play music doesn't mean you're gay."

       i was patient, but some of the questions were pretty ridiculous. in some ways i can't really blame them. i'm twenty-six and just now telling them, but i didn't really accept it that long ago either. they were visibly shaken, disbelieving, almost like i was telling them as some plea for attention. to their credit, they were careful. they didn't use the word "sin," though they had to sidestep it a few times, and i didn't see any disgust on their faces. but they did make it clear that they believed it was a choice and not a good one. the talk lasted almost an hour. they promised to try to be open-minded about the materials i had given them, as long as i would be open-minded about any materials they gave me in response. i'm worried about that one. my brother texted me last night, told me mom had told him to watch my facebook, to let her know what my relationship status was, if i had changed my "interested in:" section, and to watch my status updates. i texted her and asked her very politely not to have my brother spy on me but that if she wanted to know something all she had to do was ask, that if i wanted to be dishonest i wouldn't have told them. they're having a family meeting tonight, my parents and my brother and sister-in-law. caleb said he'd tell me how it went.

       so i guess that's not the entire story just yet. it took me over fifteen years to come to terms with it: i'd always known, but didn't want to. it's the least i can do to give them time as well. it wasn't quite the cathartic experience i was hoping for, but it is done. no more secrets. ball's in their court.

my coming out story, part one...

December 12, 2009

       it's been a long time since i've had a protected post, or any post for that matter. just wanted to get some thoughts down. i made up my mind about a month ago to come out to my parents when i'm home for christmas. i don't remember exactly what prompted the decision -- i had not intended to tell them for, well, ever. i couldn't even imagine telling my more or less mormon parents that their quiet son was always quiet because he liked boys and was living in a world of self-loathing and shame. in my fantasies i was always telling them in an email while safe in the arms of someone i love at a very safe distance. i like feeling safe. but this is probably the most difficult thing i've ever done. if you've ever seen the movie "latter days" you'll have an idea of what i'm looking at. my parents aren't utah mormon, though, which is the church that many estimate to have funded about 50% of california's prop. 8 victory. that's the church (lds) that followed brigham young in the first major split when the church's original founder was assassinated. my parents belong to the church (rlds) that followed joseph smith jr.'s son, joseph number three, which stayed in the kansas city area. it also had its splits between more liberal and conservative views, but my parents remained with the group that became one of the most conservative of the "mormon" family tree. yeah, more conservative. they're a small group and don't have nearly the power or resources that the lds church has. no walmart or dole or coca-cola to fund legislation. but i'm getting off topic.

       the first thing i did was research because i'm a nerd like that. i googled "how to come out to your parents" and bought books and movies on amazon and spent hours in the library. in one book i read ("just a mom" by betty degeneres -- one of the books i will be giving to my parents when i tell them) the author mentioned that in her experience, in every case but one the parents had eventually come to terms with their son's or daughter's sexuality. that one case was a mormon family. that's about when the anxiety attacks started. ever since it's been a roller coaster of doubts and resolutions that i've tried to keep as far back in my mind as possible. it hit hardest the night i returned to columbia after being home for thanksgiving, a combination of nerves and anxiety and the possibility that that might be the last thanksgiving i spend with my family. not a very encouraging thought, and almost enough to stop me. it's not a matter of giving up my family for this "alternative lifestyle," but a matter of not wanting to lie anymore, not wanting to hide. when i think about not telling them the first thing i think about is that if by some miracle i have a big happy gay family ten years down the road, my new family still wouldn't be able to know my parents. i still wouldn't be able to spend holidays with them or tell them how their grandchildren are. either way i could lose my family in one way or another. and i hate lying, or at least real lying. i'm tired of secrets, of tiptoeing around things, of not being able to be myself. i even have to be careful here in columbia because it would too easily make its way back to my parents if the wrong people found out. i'm tired of having to take off my pride bracelet when i go back to my apartment. i have to tell them.

       i told my brother early last week, in the first couple days of december. it had been suggested by a few friends and a few of the things i read that having someone in the family who knew before might prove helpful. he lives in the kc area and we text often, so i told him i had something to run past him, swore him to secrecy, and after a couple minutes pounding my fist on the floor and screaming expletives into the nearest pillow, i sent the text that shoved the boulder from its perch on the mountain that is my closet, which was quickly followed by a second and much prolonged string of the same. he was shocked. still processing it, actually. but we talked for a long time in what turned out to be one of the deepest conversations i've ever had with my brother. i'm still not sure what he thinks, exactly, but i have a feeling we'll be fine eventually. he asked if he could tell his wife, which i reluctantly consented. you know how women are, and i don't mean that in a derogatory way. it's just true. she was much less surprised, which didn't surprise me. i knew there had been rumors. and that gave me some hope for my parents. but then my mother is also one who threw dr. dobson at my lesbian cousin until she "changed" (she dated and got engaged to a man, but has since broken off the engagement) and my father is the man who stopped giving money to his alma mater in iowa (a university run by the church) because they accidentally allowed a gay marriage in their chapel after iowa passed its law making it legal. nearly every time i talk to him he has something homophobic to say. i have no idea how they will react. they might surprise me. but i'm taking a "prepare for the worst, hope for the best" approach. and i'm trying to gather enough materials to make it easier on them, including this website, and this dvd, this dvd, the betty degeneres book i mentioned before, and also this book. i hope they help.

       it seems surreal right now. i'm sure it will feel much more real as the day approaches, but i'm enjoying this slight mental reprieve for now. it almost feels inevitable, which is comforting in an odd way. it's coming, like a train, and it's going to hit. all i can do is hope for the best. i've assembled some books and dvds and websites for my parents that will hopefully help them in coming to terms with having a gay son. i plan to tell them the day i return to columbia: sunday, december 27th. i plan to pack up my car while they're at church in case i need to make a hasty and emotional exit. i'll give them the resources wrapped in plain brown paper, tell them to wait to open it, then tell them that i want to talk to them. i have a short preface ready, a couple sentences (i can't imagine i'll be able to handle more than that) telling them very concisely what i've told you here. then i'll say those two words that i'll never be able to take back, the words i've been so obsessively hiding from my parents for the last twenty years.

       i very much hope that i'll be able to give you a happy part two. until then.

December 22, 2009

       it's different now that i'm here. it was a long day: work earlier, which was slow since the students are all gone, then an emergency trip to the (gorgeous) vet for poor hermes, who's been sick and hasn't been eating. this followed by hurried loads of laundry and dishes and packing, going over everything multiple times to make sure i hadn't forgotten something, and before i know it i'm giving my mother a hug. suddenly the two worlds that i've fought so violently to keep separate for ages are crashing together with just as much violence, but they haven't hit yet, and the wait is torture. my resolve hasn't lessened. but i am afraid. i find myself choking on the words days before they've had a chance to pass my lips. it's easy to make up your mind when you're not staring them in the face, hearing about their plans, when you don't have to see the damage you're about to do. i really hope i'm doing the right thing.

(click for part two)