The reach to Normalcy

There are a few givens in my life:

1 - I'll never marry a woman (well, I suppose I could if I could transcend to a different level of love like Josh Weed...but, um....yeah).

2 - The Church will not ever change its position (and this is not even a point of contention for me).

3 - God the Father is real and He lives and is as Joseph Smith described (this has major implications).

4 - I am physically attracted to men.

With these givens, the associated cognitive dissonance, I'm attempting to carve a place in the margins, a place that acknowledges my failure to live up to the norms of the church, but also a place that celebrates my failure and allows me to articulate a new vision of "normal."

I had breakfast with a friend a few days ago, she's a stellar and well known Mormon scholar, as we collaborated about a project on Decolonizing Mormonism and collecting essays from Mormon scholars of color from the global south and from the margins of the north, we talked about the meaning of activity in the church. What it came down was a lot of hand waving and "details," the idea here was, it is not for leadership or others to judge my relationship to God and to Mormonism; rather that is for me to self-identify. I felt edified after this visit.

Second, a friend of mine, who I adore, honor, and look up to as a shining example of faith, courage and righteousness (defined as rightness with God), stay over with me Saturday night. Sunday morning, he told me his story. He is having a child with a woman he barely met. I've sat in Institute with this man. What was striking was two things: 1) my notion of "normal" in the church was disrupted, and 2) I was not disappointed, but rather my love for him deepened in a meaningful way.

I saw my friend as this stellar example of faith, I projected on to him, all the elements of righteousness and even tried to imitate his life in hopes of gaining proximity to heaven. But his story was different from the template of righteousness I had been using to judge, assess, and love this man: my notion of normal. Yet, his story disrupted that. As a result of his honesty and intimacy and his courage, I found myself loving him more deeply. I told him before I dropped him off that I love him as I do my own brother!

Experiences of this sort enable me to see that there may be notions of success in Mormonism yet to be articulated within the givens I outlines above and that is hopeful.

Resetting Sobriety

Slipping with my sobriety is always hard. Last night, I succumbed. There was a 20 year-old kid who has been stopping by my office for a while. He apparently was a friend of one of my students. We chatted briefly after one class (as he met his friend after class was over and while I was erasing the board), in part, because we had a friend in common. He approached me and, "You're so and so, right?" I acknowledged that I was "so and so." He then asked, "Do you know A?"  I said yes.

We chatted for a few moments and then I left back to my office. A few weeks ago I ran into him in the gym. He asked about A. I told him what I knew. Afterward we had lunch together and chatted a bit about his work and A. He then asked if we could have coffee. I told him I don't drink coffee. A few days later he showed up at my office, I talked with him and he asked me if I could help him with a paper he was writing, and so I did. After that he started stopping by. Last night he came by my office, just as I was leaving. He asked me if we could grab dinner, I acquiesced.

He then said he had a big paper that he needed help with, I told him I couldn't help and that I was on my way home. He asked if he could drop by my home and get some help at home. At this point I knew what he was trying to do. I denied his request and hopped on the bus. After getting home, I received a text message, he was "freaking out," and asked for help. I tried the best I could over texting, but it was fruitless. By this time, my addictive patterns and pathways were well lit. I eventually invited him over. He came over and we sat on my couch for three hours working on his paper. After it was complete, he closed his computer. I was about to get up to show him the door, he put his hand on my thigh and pushed me back to a seated position. That was the end. I showed him the door three hours later. At the door, with my head hanging low from what I just did, he ran to me gave me a hug and grabbed my head and gave me kiss. He then picked up his bag and walked out the door.

As I reflected on this incident and how I have lost my sobriety, I realized that my life is stressful. Questions of the church remain, frustration and uncertainty around my dissertation remain, and funding for my graduate education remains tenuous. But I paused today and met with the Institute director. It was  a pleasant feeling to access the Spirit and speak with a god-fearing man of faith. I took solace and comfort in that visit. I'm not sure how to process what happened with the kid, but I move forward.

Arrogance

Last night, I went out with an acquaintance - gay former Mormon - I ended up at a bar in the gayborhood. As I sat sipping diet coke, I listened to this acquaintance tell me of all his hookups with guys from scoutcamp, to priest's overnighters, to his midnight liaisons at BYU, there no compunction in the slightest for what he engaged in.

He continued then to tell me how he had dropped out of school and ended up starting a tech firm that he boasts is worth some $20M. But it was here that he was stuck. Sex and money was the extent of this man's life. It was the source of his appeal for all the men (most of them younger 20 or under) that he hooked up with.  I tried to prod, searching for some dimension, some depth to this man. I failed, at least last night. I want to believe that people derive a sense of their lives and purpose from more than sex and money.

I suppose what as most off-putting about the entire night was not the fact that he was having raunchy, kinky anonymous sex (of which he showed me pictures and videos and to which I covered my eyes), but it was the  arrogance, the self-absorption, the self-centeredness of the man. He boasted of his contacts - meeting Bill Gates, meeting the Secretary's of State and Education, CEOs of large tech firms, etc - and boasting of his wealth, and his ability to make a success. Yet there was a certain sadness in his story, despite all the "things" he accumulated, he said to me plainly, "I want a boyfriend." I simply nodded.

As a confirmed Marxist, I'm rather tame when I meet pro-capitalists individuals, but this one was different. An hour into our "drink" his friend showed up. This kid was a punk! Arrogant asshole. The top of his class as undergrad and a whiz at computer programming. He couldn't help but tell me that he makes $58 an hour and he's only 22. To which my friend responded, in a pissing contest manner, "I bill out at $550 an hour." They both proceeded then to belittle people the bar, calling larger women "whales" and so forth. I was thoroughly disgusted.

I signaled to my acquaintance that I had to leave, he was sad that I was leaving. I think his sadness stemmed, in part from both of them thinking they were better than me and that I amounted to nothing more than a hill of beans to them. I didn't tell them what I did, nor did they ever ask. I simply sat back and allowed both of them to assume that I am under-educated, under-employed brown man.

I left the bar disgusted, and realized that my life could always be far worse. Certainly I'm happy and I don't need alcohol, money or even sex to experience happiness and contentment. The truth that "wickedness never was happiness" rang true to me last night. But let me qualify, to me complete self-conceited living is pure wickedness - attempts to break free from that self-conceited lifestyle is the essence of the gospel. I hope I'm not self-conceited.

Enlightment

I fed the missionaries two days ago. Good, upstanding young men. One had posed the question on whether I was happy and content before I "came out." I paused and reflected on that question before I answered. Truth is I'm not entirely sure. This raises and perhaps even begs a larger question about the nature of happiness itself. I told the missionary, who seemed quite genuine in his query, (as I have a tendency to call missionaries out when deferring to robotic or routinized interaction) that the nature of what I feel is quite different.

To wit, when I was "struggling" to remain faithful and honor my covenants, my relationship with God and the Savior was conditioned on how well I lived up to both the putative (or self-imagined) and real cultural and social expectation of my family, the church community, and my limited understanding of God and the nature of things Divine. Under these conditions, my happiness was inherently tied to fulfilling imagined expectation of myself and others about our place before God. Thus, I'm not certain if I ever felt happiness in the measure it was intended. Sure, there were times I felt happy, because I fulfilled this or that expectation. But it was not lasting. Yet, I was more or less technically obedient.

In the last year, I've experienced love and happiness in ways I've never thought I could. I can say confidently that I am happy now, I feel content, I feel a sense of relief, a freedom from expectations that once determined my level of happiness. I am now happy in spite of those expectations. I feel a measure of God's love for the first time, as it has been shown to me through my parents.

And this is question that is both raised and begged: What is the nature of happiness?

I've asked this question before, more specifically what is the qualitative difference between "Mormon happiness" and "non-Mormon happiness"?

Recently, as I've started dating, this answer to this question is beginning to make some sense. As I've been able to get some long-term traction with my addiction, I've been able to think a bit more clearly. This clarity has been conditioned by the two guys I'm dating.

The first, I call him B is from the south. He is 26 years old and an undergrad. B and I have set some very clear boundaries for physical intimacy. We have not done anything, nor do we intend to until we both feel that this dating thing has potential. This has allowed me to experience dating and to develop healthy intimacy. For example, this weekend we went out for dinner, drove around, and then played with his hair. During this time we simply talked, laughed, and genuinely had a good time getting to know each other. I've been on three dates with him and after each on feel fulfilled, there is no desire to engage my addiction. This is healthy. I feel content and happy when I'm with him.

The second, I call him J is also from the south. He is 33 years old and also an undergrad. J, I sense is taking things very slow, I really appreciate that. I met him for date one last Friday, as we had dinner we just got to know each other and laughed. There is something deep about him. After dinner, I thought it was over, but he grabbed me and wanted to have frozen yogurt with me, so I followed and spent another hour with him just talking. At the end of the night, he asked if we could do it again. Since then we have been texting, we have date 2 scheduled for next Wednesday. Again with J, after I left I felt fulfilled, there was no desire to engage in my addiction. After each text I feel fulfilled. This is healthy intimacy.

In both of these situations, I sense I'm not as lonely as I think I am. Yet, as I've thought seriously about both of these men and a future with them, I reflected on R74 or the same-sex marriage vote in Washington. I then started to ask myself if I could actually envision myself marrying a man. I've tried hard, but there is something that continues to haunt or perhaps quicken my moral senses. It is here, that I realized there is a hierarchy of moral norms connected to happiness. At the very top of this hierarchy connected to a pure form of happiness is honesty and complete submission to God as the highest norm, and that includes total fidelity to all covenants. And then down the hierarchy. It is this hierarchy that I know exists independent of my own rationalizing, and reasoning. This hierarchy is eternal. And it is the empirical and spiritual reality of that hierarchy that haunts my dreams and brings a measure of discomfort at the idea of marrying a man.

Yet, that places me in yet another pickle. I recognize that the queer theorist in me will simply attribute what I'm feeling to internalized homophobia and that by not talking a decisive stand, I'm simply reproducing it.

But at this point, I will continue dating and keep interrogating the significance of happiness and how I might live that life without having to necessarily sacrifice a life of companionship. Perhaps that is inevitable. Perhaps what I ought to be seeking is simply resignation to the inevitability of being alone, but not necessarily lonely.

A New Man?

Yesterday I had dinner with a good friend. He said, "You're more pleasant to be around, you seem much happier, and more light-hearted." I was initially taken aback and a little insulted by the implication that I wasn't pleasant before. But the reality is I am much happier. I am. I am happy.

I can state quite clearly and with a degree of conviction: I am queer, I am Mormon, and I am happy.

Life before me is exciting, while I am still in a process of negotiating my relationship with the Church, I think my place in the Church is quite clear. I belong in Church. But now I'm specifying my level of activity and membership. I think for the indefinite future I am comfortable with being a peripheral member: Peripheral member involves regular contact, interactions with members which varies from acquaintanceship to close friendships with individuals, a marginal role, really. 

Obviously, I am OK for the time being of relinquishing the rights and privileges of full active membership. Yet, that is precisely what I need right now. While I still read scripture and pray, I am under no illusion that covenants are being broken, but I'm sure there's more to it than I can comprehend. I am comforted by the fact that God knows the situation better than me. 

Hiatus Over

Sorry it has been a while. 

I would be lying if I said a lot has happened. It hasn't. I think I just got a little lazy. 

It would be better to say that I was in the depths turmoil wrestling with aspects of my sexuality and in the process of reconciliation. Alas, I haven't. Well not really.

In the last month or half, I've been fairly sober and for that I'm grateful to my higher power. 

Last night, I took occasion to watch the "Mormons in America" special on NBC last night. What struck me most about this was the very tender emotions it elicited in me of my relationship to God and not the Church. I've come to realize in the last few months that I desire to be firmly rooted in the Church, but recognize that that the depth those roots can go will be severely limited. 

I continue to be open to dating and have been on several dates in the last few weeks. It's strange. I went out with a very nice, talented, intelligent guy who is a Latino secular Jew and as we talked a feeling of "so this is what a date feels like" overcame me. It was an exciting feeling, a feeling of being fulfilled, a feeling of rightness. I began to wonder, yet again, back to the same theme, "are these feelings unrighteous? are these feelings what God wants me to sacrifice?" Those are questions I cannot answer, and I'm coming to appreciate more and more questions that my Bishop is not able to answer either. There is some degree of comfort in that discomfort.

This morning, as I made my way to my office, I reflected on my relationship to God and realized, yet again, that God is real. This is a fact that I cannot deny, no matter how much I try, and further He is as Joseph Smith described. And despite my numerous misgivings with the administrative and management practices of the Church, I tend to see that God continues to endow men and women with inspiration to further an imperfect organization to His ends. In other words, the Church grows despite itself. 

Yet, at least for now, I see myself in a margins of this organization. As I am now actively looking for a fulfilling relationship, I recognize that I must distance myself from the doctrine of the Church in ways that make me and other uncomfortable. I talked with the Institute Director about the point one "willfully rebels against God." He did not know, and simply and loving told me, "If, after all you've done to weigh things out and you decide to move away from the doctrine, then I don't think that qualifies as willful rebellion. God understands."

He shed a few tears at the doctrinal struggle and more likely at the eternal significance of the decisions I'm contemplating, but then he extended a hand of friendship and love in perpetuity in knowing the difficulty of the decision. We embraced. I'm grateful for such friends. 

I've decided I like the term queer better than gay. I am feeling more and more free as a queer man. The notion of agency in relation to embracing myself as queer is certainly a topic for another post. 

Learning Intimacy

The past few weeks, in terms of my sobriety, have been great. I was troubled by not being able to get some traction with my sobriety. I talked at length with my sponsor and my therapist about it. It seemed much of my acting out, came from stress, not related to the church, but from work and life. And a lot of it came from being given a degree of freedom, I've never had. With my parents releasing me from expectations of future behavior, I got a little lost with that liberty. While I recognize that that deep within my desire is to remain in and close to the church, not for anyone, but for me, it remains a quandary.

Last weekend was Seattle Pride, I had a chance to help some friends out with Pride. It felt good to give back and to simply feel safe being me, despite all the crazy stuff that attends Pride. But this happened under the weight of having just returned home from visiting with my family. I told my sister I was a sex addict and she simply hugged me and we shed tears - she thanked me for still being her brother, and not leaving the family. I held her for a while. It felt good to talk openly, freely, and with love to my sister. I felt home.

When I walked through the door, my father ran towards me and hugged me and held me for a moment. It was a great feeling!

At home, given my work with the community, I was asked to do some things for them that would require taking on more responsibility. I acquiesced. I arrived in Seattle with a heaviness, not of emotion, but of the potential of my future and where it will be headed, as I assume more and more responsibility my community is asking me to. The trajectory of my life has changed. All through this I was sober. And it felt great. I was not online or surfing the mobile apps for guys to cruise on, I was not lost in lust or fantasy about relationships. Rather, I was focused on two things: 1) my sobriety and 2) my future. 


Sunday afternoon, after returning home from Pride, I was exhausted. I did step work and eventually went to bed. I woke up sober. That day was rough. But I made it through the day, making program phone calls, and then went to a meeting in the evening. I shared about how I wanted to find someone to act out with. I left the meeting feeling settled, and phoned my sponsor, we talked about my plan for the evening. It was a good plan to keep me sober. 


I got home and started to work on my dissertation a bit and then I received a text message from a guy I got to know, Peter. This addiction is insidious! As soon as I received the text message, in which he invited himself over, I was lost. The euphoria took over. He came over and stayed the night. It felt good, but I also knew it was detrimental to my sobriety, my mental and spiritual health.

We watched a movie and then he feel asleep in my arms. We moved to the bed and there slept with each other throughout the night (though that was punctuated by moments of nonsleep). In the morning, we simply cuddled till 1pm, laughing, talking. There was a part of me that was fulfilled by that encounter, yet I remained mostly empty. I knew he would not stay. Sure he might send another message in a month or so, but it was not permanent.

When I got to the office, Tom called me excited to fill me in on his life away from Seattle. It was nice to hear from him. After the phone call was over, I reflected on that experience with Peter, and realized I deserve more than to simply be used by someone to feed their addiction, and that I have more integrity and love than to use someone to fuel my addiction. A new insight for me.

Throughout the week as I worked on my program for recovery, Tom phoned a few more times. However, I knew with each phone call, the reality of anything happening between the two of us diminished. I think he recognized that as well. Strange how much can happen in a week.

I went to the LGBT running club on Saturday morning, Tom was there. I did not expect to see him. He slowly made his way toward me. Instead of his usual excited greeting and hug, he just stood in front of me staring me in the eyes, then he smiled at me, I smiled back and we went our separate ways on different trail runs. I've not heard from him since.

I think this is a good thing for me. What that experience with Tom made me realize with greater clarity was simply that I want a fulfilling, intimate, healthy relationship. And those kinds of relationships do not have to be sexual. I can have that kind of relationship with friends and family. It is the kind of relationship that allows one to transcend loneliness and be OK in solitude. It is my hope that perhaps one day, I can have that kind of relationship with God.