Soy Made Me Gay

The light from my phone cast a faint blue glow that reached all the way up to the ceiling twenty-five feet above.  I checked my email and my feed reader before shutting it off, which plunged the living room of the cabin into complete darkness.  The air outside was cold and it felt good to be curled up on the large leather couch.  Most of the leaves outside had already fallen, but there were enough to paint the north Georgia mountains with streaks of red and gold.  The whole day had been spent lounging about, playing board games, and measuring how much water seven people displaced in a hot tub.

I went into the weekend in a horrible mood.  Work and freelance projects had left me stressed and frustrated.  I had spent most evenings of the previous week alone in my apartment, typing away on my laptop.  The relative lack of non-professional human contact had left me cranky and overly-sensitive.  I was the only single person on the trip and I was waiting to be offended.  Not only waiting, I was looking for ways to be offended.  One stray remark, one idle comment and BAM! my tongue would be unleashed in a firestorm of  “righteous” indignation.  Oh, they would understand, these people with their significant others and, in one case, their (incredibly adorable) offspring!  They would know the injustice of my existence, the pain of my being!

The only kink in the plan was the fact that I had awesome friends.

As a slap in the face to my self-indulgent bitterness, I never felt left out or isolated.  Instead, I was drawn into a game of Scrabble by the fireplace, I helped wash the dishes, I was asked to hold the kid, and I staked claim on my own corner of the hot tub.

Contrary to what I had feared, when my current wave of friends started to marry each other, the only thing that really changed was the living arrangements.  Instead of marrying and moving on, they had married and dragged me along with them.  I didn’t realize what had happened until, at an extended gathering, another friend leaned over to me and said, “Dude, what happened?  When did we become ‘the single guys’?”  Now, most of my close friends were married and, while I was sure the dynamics would evolve over time, it seemed as though they were more than willing to keep me as a recurring cast member in their lives.

Rain started to fall on the metal roof high above my head.  I wasn’t going to be awake for much longer and, before my mind started to slip into incoherent dreams where I was inserted into action scenes from movies I had watched months before, I prayed silently thanking the Lord for the people in my life that made it worth living.  I prayed that my tendency towards self-martyrdom never made me lose sight of the fact that I was surrounded by people who loved me and people who I loved.

My vision blurred and I found myself in the Nevada desert surrounded by zombies that had been unleashed on the world by a corrupt corporation.  I raised my machine gun in preparation for the undead onslaught.

This time, it was personal.

I sat on an ottoman wedged in the corner of the wine bar.  It was after hours and I was providing support to one of our directors as he shot a focus group for a local ad agency.  The shoot pretty much ran itself so my support ended up being more of the moral variety.  It was a multi-night job and I spent most of the time surfing the internet and writing on my laptop.  The groups, which consisted of African-American women of different age ranges were interesting to listen to…at first.  The uncomfortable ottoman mixed with my own natural predisposition for boredom set me off in search of websites that featured shiny new gadgets of the plug-in variety.

When the moderator asked the women what an Obama victory would mean to them, I looked up from my screen.  I was curious to hear the opinion of the election from the perspective of a Southern middle-class African-American woman.  Many of the answers I anticipated.  Words like, “empowerment”, “hope”, and “affirmation” were said.  One unexpected word I heard was “anxiety”.  The moderator asked the woman to clarify her statement, she continued to say, “Barack Obama is our chance to prove ourselves.  If he is elected and fails, it will be devastating for African-Americans and who knows when we will get another shot?”

I knew what I was getting into with this blog.  I fully intended to be an example of someone who was living as an active member of the church, but I have a very uncomfortable, shifting-my-chair feeling when people look to me as a “poster boy” for gay Mormons.  Because, quite simply:

What if I fail?

What if, after a couple years of writing on this blog, I put up the post “It’s been a great ride, but I’m leaving the church”?  What if it gets to a point where I feel like I have to hide my shortcomings in order to publicly maintain the image of, “Yes, you too can be gay and Mormon.  Ask me how!”  What if I meet some guy named Jason and move to Canada to get married?  What then?  Wouldn’t it negate everything that I have said?

When I think about it, I started this blog with the intention of letting straight Mormons know what it was like to be a gay Mormon.  If I end up failing (in the sense that I leave behind my membership in the church), I believe it is important to record that as well.  Sometimes gay Mormons leave the church, it is a part of the issue that we can’t ignore.  The story of the ones who leave is as important as the story of the ones who stay.

Okay, take a deep breath.  Don’t read too much into this; I’m not going anywhere and still believe the church is true like I always have.  Bosom burning and all.  But my point is, I am an example of gay Mormons only as much as you are an example of straight Mormons.  We’re all flawed.  I sometimes forget to pray at night, my home teaching frequency could be better (much better), and I could probably stand to be more reverent in Elder’s Quorum.  Flawed.  If we look to anyone other than the Savior for an example of perfection, we will be sorely disappointed.  Every single time.  I’m positive there have been less than charitable moments even in the Monson household.

I guess this is my Charles Barkley moment.  “I am not a role-model!” and all that.

Okay, now this is the part where I put my ego in check.  In the past several months at least four or five authors of the moho blogs I follow have publicly come out of the closet and stayed in the church.  I didn’t start the trend; I just jumped on it.  If any gay Mormon can be identified as starting the ball rolling towards an open dialog on homosexuality and Mormonism, it would arguably be Ty Mansfield (who I have never met, but like to refer to as the Mormon “Grand High Gay”) when he co-authored the book In Quiet Desperation.  I haven’t read it (still), but the fact that it existed and some guy put his real name on it helped me in the process of my own coming out.  In turn, I don’t look to him as a role model, but I do respect the courage he has demonstrated.  In short, I realize that I am only one voice in a growing number of publicly gay Mormons and am excited at the prospect of an openness in the church when it comes the issue of sexuality and what happens when it is of the “homo” variety.

What if we fail?

What if we succeed?

Can you imagine an environment where a parent’s worst fear isn’t that “my child will be gay”?  Where a teenager doesn’t fear the reaction of his Priest’s quorum to the news that he isn’t really into the new Laurel that moved in?  Where the single gay adult feels his talents and perspectives are wanted, even needed, by the families in his ward?  Where no one feels like they need to hide who they are in order to feel loved by their fellow Saints?

We’ve come a long ways towards this (a long ways) but we have quite a ways to go.  There will be some casualties.  Some of us will fall by the wayside.  Some of us will leave the church and become bitter and angry.  Some of us will leave the church and become happy.  Some of us will stay.  Whatever the risks, this current “fad” of openness is one band(covered)wagon that I want to be on.

While getting ready for Church this morning I had BYU-TV playing over the internet.  I began by listening to Music and the Spoken Word, but after it was over I clicked on a random show (to avoid the horrid “Worship Service”) and let the video play.  I didn’t pay much attention to it until a BYU-Hawaii devotional came on.  The speaker’s talk was solid, but there was nothing really new or revelatory for me in the content of his discourse, which spoke of commitment to living the Gospel.  Like many speakers, he gave a itemized list that summarized his talk.  On the list was the observation that some people obey the words of the prophets only when it is convenient for them.  When hearing the prophet speak, they evaluate the truth of his words based on their own desire to comply.  They deem themselves exceptions and disregard the council.

Like I said, it was nothing new.  I had been taught the same thing since before I was eight – never think of yourselves as an exception because that is a step on the road to apostasy.  This caused a lot of mental anguish as I reached the age that my peers around me started dating and getting engaged.  If I was no exception, I should be seeking the same goal, after all.  I tried dating and generally failed to find a relationship that I felt was a good idea to pursue to the point of marriage (mostly from my own baggage).  This placed me in emotional limbo – how was I supposed to fulfill the commandment to marry and raise a family (a commandment that I wanted to follow) if I never was able to feel good about a relationship with a woman?

A couple of years ago, Elder Dallin H. Oaks gave his famous “Hanging Out=Evil” YSA fireside.  He followed his council with:

“If you feel you are a special case, so that the strong counsel I have given doesn’t apply to you, please don’t write me a letter. Why would I make this request? I have learned that the kind of direct counsel I have given results in a large number of letters from members who feel they are an exception, and they want me to confirm that the things I have said just don’t apply to them in their special circumstance….

As a General Authority, I have the responsibility to preach general principles. When I do, I don’t try to define all the exceptions. There are exceptions to some rules. …  I only teach the general rules. Whether an exception applies to you is your responsibility. You must work that out individually between you and the Lord.” (Dallin H. Oaks, 2006)

I remember becoming angry the first time I heard that.  So exceptions do exist?  Where did that leave me?  In what I felt was a rather glib statement, the Apostle had said, “hey, some of what we say may not apply to you and if it does, you are on your own.”  Oh, wow.  Thanks.

I’ve mellowed out in my frustration since then.  What I originally saw as abandonment by the Brethren, I now see as them trusting me to follow the Spirit and were showing respect by allowing me to “govern myself”.  Being lead by the prophet is one thing, having to be dragged on a leash is quite another.

While I think I have gained a small amount of maturity on that particular issue, thinking of myself as an exception doesn’t really sit well with me.  There is a definite uneasiness to not having an clear idea of where you stand with the Lord on an issue, but for me, clarity hasn’t come yet in this particular case.  There seem to be a lot of conflicting views on the issue floating around.  I guess the Lord and I have more to discuss on this matter.

In any case, I guess writing a letter is out.

Being a Mormon in the film production industry is uncommon.  Let me rephrase, being an active Mormon in the film industry is uncommon.  So much so, that when other people find out that I am Mormon, often they don’t know what to say.

Mostly the reaction I get when people find out my religion is, “oh, I hope I don’t offend you!”  They assume that one sexual reference or “F-Bomb” is going to send me off to scrub my ears in a shocked fit of prayer.  I did go to non-BYU film school, people.  We watched unrated movies and everything.  Even foreign movies.

To their statement I usually laugh and say, “don’t worry, I’m actually pretty hard to offend,” which is true.  While I’m easily irritated, truly offending me is rare.

But now, I am deeply hurt and offended.  I can’t point to anyone individually, but the people that have caused me to feel emotionally heavy and dark are the two political groups currently fighting over Prop 8 in California.  I’ve always been Prop 8 Agnostic in my public communications and I continue to be so in the effort to not have my opinion sway anyone one way or another (as if that could happen).  I have read many blog posts and comments that have been very civil and diplomatic in their support for and opposition to the proposition.  Unfortunately, I have seen much more name-calling, outright lying, and plainly evil rhetoric being lobbed back and forth.  Having an inherent foot in both sides of the argument, being hit from both sides has caused my protective “don’t take it personally” filter to break down and many of the statements have seeped in.  According to these groups:

Because I am gay I:

• am selfish.
• am immoral.
• am dangerous to children.
• am harmful to society.

Because I am Mormon I:

• am a hatemonger.
• am anti-family.
• am intolerant.
• am harmful to society.

I admit, the gay ones hurt more than the Mormon ones (I’ve been hearing them my whole life) and while I’ve always been taught to never be ashamed of my beliefs – I don’t have the same years of open conviction when it comes to my sexuality.  It is hard not to take things personally when they are attacking two things about me that are very personal.

So, I have decided that I am no longer going to read, watch, or participate in any more discussions, articles, or news stories related to Prop 8.  I realize that people feel that they should stand up for their beliefs and that’s fine, but I, however, can’t.  The issues are too close, the pain is too real, and I am too tired.

I spent time with friends this weekend.  I talked with them, laughed, played with their kid….  To them, none of the above is true.  I am focusing on that; the rest will have to take care of itself for now.

I was in my dorm in the MTC when an Elder in my district told us about a letter his mother wrote to him (yes, missionaries discuss the letters your write to them with other missionaries).  She was asking advice about a situation in her ward in which a young single woman got pregnant by her boyfriend.  This young woman wasn’t a close friend, but was simply a good acquaintance.  The Elder’s mother was confused and unsure of how to proceed.  While she wanted to reach out to this young woman, she didn’t want her support to be viewed as approval of the young girl’s situation.  She wanted to “avoid the appearance of evil” and the best way she decided to do that was to simply avoid the issue and the young woman.

We sometimes find ourselves in a position to associate with people who either have different standards than us or don’t live up to their own standards.  So what do you do when one of the young women in your Laurel classes gets a bun in the oven? (And we aren’t talking about homemaking meeting.)  Or what about the guy you grew up with in Scouts who now lives with a guy named Tarquin who makes his own curtains?*  Or the coworker that you know for certain regularly smokes pot.  If we are representatives of Jesus Christ, we shouldn’t be seen in the company of known sinners because people may assume that we agree with their actions and attitudes, right?

Right?

The problem with all of this is that we are trying to live according to “sound-byte doctrine”.  Sound-byte doctrines are phrases and ideas that are gleaned from the scriptures (sometimes) and are treated as commandments by popular culture even though they may not have originally meant what popular religious culture has turned it into.

This particular bit of sound-byte doctrine originally comes from the scripture found in 1 Thessalonians 5:22 which says, “Abstain from all appearance from evil.”  This seems pretty straightforward on first reading, but if you look (in the LDS edition of the scriptures), you’ll see a footnote on the word “appearance”.  Apparently this word comes from a Greek word, which means “kinds”.  With this in mind, we see that the scripture now says “[a]bstain from all kinds of evil” (emphasis added).  The footnote goes on to point to the Topical Guide entry for “Apparel”, suggesting the verse has more to do with our personal standards than how we associate with others.  In fact, we see that the previous reading of the scripture doesn’t really mesh well with the actual example Jesus set in His life.  He was constantly found among the people that society had labeled “sinners”.  Some of these were merely the poor that people assumed were sinners because of their poverty, but some were people legitimately involved in serious sin.  We have no record or reason to believe that He ever condoned sin, but apparently Jesus didn’t equate association with sinners with condoning their behavior.

“Avoiding the appearance of evil” is a perfect example of sound-byte doctrine because the catchiness of the phrase causes it to get stuck in people’s head where it is given extra weight in making decisions about associating with friends and love ones who don’t share our standards.  I don’t believe we should place ourselves in situations in which we may become tempted or situations that would offend the Spirit, but I believe that following the example of Christ also involves showing kindness to people of other standards and ideals.  You can’t show kindness to someone you never associate with.  In fact, Jesus had nothing good to say about people who maintained an appearance of righteousness for sake of appearances only (the “whited wall” and all that).

We should follow the Spirit when deciding on whom we will associate with in our lives, but I would suggest that we be careful in this as well.  In associations where the Spirit is absent, we should make sure that the Spirit hasn’t withdrawn because of our own feelings of prejudice or discomfort rather than the influence the people we are associating with.

Sound-byte doctrines are grey doctrines (at best) and are often abused by religious cultures to excuse some very bad behavior.  Sometimes this is intentional, but, more often than not, they are used by people who are legitimately confused and are looking for direction in their lives.  In the example above, the missionaries in my dorm agreed that the Elder’s mom should show an outpouring of love for the young unwed mother-to-be.  The mom was genuinely looking for the right way to handle the situation, but we thought it wasn’t her role to punish the young woman for her actions; it was her role to be a Sister in Zion.  If the young woman used the pregnancy as an excuse to leave the Church, that was her decision, but it shouldn’t be a decision made easier due to a judgmental ostracizing by the membership.

The biggest danger of sound-byte doctrine is that they can replace prayer, pondering, and scripture study as a source of guidance when deciding how to live our lives.  But then again, relying on a Deseret Book-purchased cross-stitching as an oracle for life advice sure does free me up to watch episodes of Heroes online.  (A “Nikki” by any other name is still boring, by the way.)

*Bonus points for getting this reference.

I flipped through the songs on my iPhone until I found one by Blink 182.  I belted out the words as I drove on Interstate 20 towards Atlanta.  I was returning from my nephew’s baptism in a surprisingly good mood.

For the past few years, every time that I had attended a family event, I returned feeling stressed and depressed.  I was frustrated with this because I loved my family and couldn’t explain the feeling of isolation and sadness I felt when I was around them.  I usually returned home with a lessened desire to keep the commandments.  Christmas alone usually caused a month’s worth of emotional turmoil.

But as I flipped the next song, I found that I wasn’t experiencing those feelings this time.  I thought about what was different.  The main difference was that it was the first family gathering since I came out.  I came out because I finally accepted myself for who I was and I had a renewed confidence that I hadn’t experienced for a long time.

My family treated me the same as they always had (which was a good thing) and I enjoyed playing with the kids and talking with the grown-ups.  Not long before I left, one of my brothers came up to me and said with a grin, “nice purse you got there.”  He motioned down to the small bag that held my mother’s digital camera that I had borrowed.

“What?” I said, looking down at the bag.  “Oh, it’s mom’s camera.”

“Looks like a purse to me,” he said, grin widening.

“Whatever,” I said, mildly annoyed.

“It’s really small and cute,” he continued.  My irritation flared.  What was the deal?

In an instant I realized why I was annoyed.  When I was around my family in the past, I found myself slipping into the attitude that I had during high school: I must always project an image of straight masculinity.  My annoyance had nothing to do with my brother.  In fact, whether intentional or not, the message he was sending to me was, “just because you are gay doesn’t mean you are immune from my teasing.”

I smiled.  “This is nothing.  The man-purse I normally carry is way bigger.”

He laughed.  He didn’t care about the bag at all.  He was my brother and I was his.

I switched the song to “Hysteria” by Muse and started singing at the top of my lungs to keep myself awake as I drove through the dark.  Soon I would crest the hill and see the Atlanta skyline glowing ahead in the distance.  My family was behind me.

Just like they’ve always been.