We got a new employee the other day. She is transgender. It's our first one and a first for most of the people who work here. Hell, I think it's a first for the entire fucking region! So, the buzz around the office has been, "Have you SEEN 'HER'!"
I completely respect transgender people and I will defend them. I don't need to fully understand the nature of what it's like to be transgender to respect and honor someone who is. Because I'm out to some of my co-workers, some of them will come up to me and ask me about it assuming I know anything about it or actually understand it. Most of the time people are just confusing sexual orientation with gender identity. But I'm not an expert and I tell them the truth, "I don't fully understand it but here is what I know from a clinical perspective...etc."
But, I was really holding out for the inevitable to happen. The gay/trans jokes. It's bad enough working in a cultural environment that is sexist and homophobic but this? It was just too much for most people to keep their stupid mouths shut.
So, one day, there we were, me and two of my co-workers, who I'm out to, where all doing some work together when a third co-worker came in to help. But, for reasons only known to him, probably because the buzz is still fresh on everyone's mind, he just randomly tells a very rude gay/transgender joke. One co-worker, she feigned not to get it. The other co-worker, he just stared in shock. Me, I just turned and went back to what I was doing as the joke teller, seeing that no one laughed, tried to explain it, digging himself in deeper. Shortly after which he seemed to appear embarrassed and left the room. I didn't bother saying anything to him. I was going to get my revenge later.
I friended him on Facebook.
He avoids eye contact with me now.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
Unlovable
As much as my life has gotten a million times better I still, for whatever reason, find that I dance on that edge of suicide from time to time. As I am doing now. What were the triggers this time?
People and friends, who I thought were friends, turning their backs on me, pushing me aside like I'm nothing. My existence is somehow anathema to them. This too shall pass, but when? Will I have any friends left? And what is a friend anyway? Loneliness is terrifying!
Ever since LDS conference I've been feeling the cold shoulder from people. No doubt because of the talk by Oaks in which he tries to expound on all the conditions that must be met before God can give unconditional love. Is that the Mormon God or Oaks's God? It is one in the same, as Oaks speaks for the Mormon God. I don't believe in that God. I don't care if an imaginary being loves me or not. But they do. So they can't love me because I don't meet the conditions that their God requires. Who are these people?
People and friends, who I thought were friends, turning their backs on me, pushing me aside like I'm nothing. My existence is somehow anathema to them. This too shall pass, but when? Will I have any friends left? And what is a friend anyway? Loneliness is terrifying!
Ever since LDS conference I've been feeling the cold shoulder from people. No doubt because of the talk by Oaks in which he tries to expound on all the conditions that must be met before God can give unconditional love. Is that the Mormon God or Oaks's God? It is one in the same, as Oaks speaks for the Mormon God. I don't believe in that God. I don't care if an imaginary being loves me or not. But they do. So they can't love me because I don't meet the conditions that their God requires. Who are these people?
Sunday, October 4, 2009
I am a Queer Spirit
Well it's been a few weeks since the Queer Spirit Retreat out in Utah and I've just now had a chance to take a moment and decompress the jumble of thoughts in my head.
The retreat was an amazingly positive experience for me and completely opposite of what the LDS religion could ever offer. And in a sense, because it was in September, it marked the two year reunion of my personal crisis that led me down the road of confusion, despair, apostasy, awakening, renewal, joy and peace. Now, two years later, it marks the beginning of a new and happier chapter of my life.
I'm rather amazed at just how little drama my life has anymore. It used to be that so much of my life, every little detail, every little thought, decision, action, expectation, and desire was weighted down with anxiety. Because every little thing had to be scrutinized for its value good or bad, I had to have certainty where something was going to lead me, heaven or hell, and most of the time I just couldn't get it. No longer do I feel the need to do that anymore. Now every so often when I meditate on my life, I amaze myself at just how uncomplicated it all really is when we let go of the things that we have no control over. Letting go. Letting go of beliefs that do not work for us. Letting go of needing to be right. Letting go of ego. And in letting go, what is left is pure authenticity. Honesty.
Oh, the lies we tell and believe. I look back at my life and see the trend as I was spiraling down to my own personal depths of becoming homophobic and how I didn't recognize the irrationality. My world view and personal identity was defined by lies. And those lies covered the pain. My ego was in control of my life, protecting me with lies. The ego is stupid. It doesn't know what a lie is but it wants to protect it no matter what. The ego can't know if what it's protecting is causing more harm. It just protects it with whatever we give it. And what I always gave it were lies.
When I came out to myself and finally accepted my sexuality, I found myself craving absolute honesty. I was no longer going to deceive myself or other people to protect my beliefs or theirs. And if the truth hurt, the honesty hurt, I knew I had to let go of my ego.
When I think about what it takes to be honest I still find myself struggling with it. Growing up in a religious culture that required me to deny the reality of my surroundings so that it would conform to a belief, a lie, has given me this horrible, habitual, dishonest, thinking pattern that I fight with all of the time. So many things where never to be thought, spoken, or acted upon. It all builds up and permeates other aspects of life.
We have to hide our fears and pretend to be happy. We don't want people to think the religion is making us depressed. We don't want to make the church look bad. We certainly don't want to admit to ourselves that we have compromised the things we know to be true so that we can belong to the "one true religion" in order to receive all the blessings from a god that we hope exists. We even convince ourselves that we know that "He" really does exist. Lie after lie after lie. After awhile I didn't know what was true anymore. I didn't even understand how I really felt about things. I couldn't at any moment in my life make a decision without consulting an authority. My thinking was done for me. And yet my life was in shambles.
The world terrified me. Meeting new people terrified me. I would have so much anxiety I could never look at anyone. I could never actually speak honestly. I was so ashamed of myself that I would lie or divert attention to someone else just so people wouldn't pay attention to me. I judged people. The judgments were all lies I told to myself. All lies I believed. It all lead to my own personal crisis two years ago in September where my entire world turned upside down and I spent months dancing on the edge of suicide.
But I finally came to some closure early Saturday morning at the retreat as I noticed two individuals off in the distance standing on the stairway to the upper floor of the 2nd ranch house as I waited to watch the sunrise. I knew they saw me. But I didn't have the courage to talk to them. I still wasn't quite free of my judgmental thinking and how it had ruled my life to the point of mental breakdown. Always judging people by what I think they would be thinking about me, always afraid that they would hate me for my sexuality, queerness and just general social awkwardness. Again, all lies.
But I knew their story from the night before and I was in empathy with them. I had only faced early death as a choice. They were facing it as an inevitability. I had no right to judge anyone, especially myself. Still, that morning, I just stood there for about an hour and cried. Mostly to mourn the loss of my old life, the life that I wanted but never had or will ever have. But in the end, whether I talked to them or not, just their mere presence that morning was a major healing experience for me. And had I spoken to them that day I would have known that they would reciprocate that empathy.
After all these years, looking for my place in the world I didn't realize that I didn't need to leave Utah to find it. Well, actually, I DID need to leave Utah to discover that I didn't need to leave Utah. My community wasn't where I was located; it was the people with whom I associate with. But I was always waiting for someone to come knocking at my door to invite me. Ironically when they did I would judge them too harshly and push them away. I've gotten to that point now where I realize that if I don't go knocking I will never know what it's like to live. And if I'm going to accept someone else's effort to reach out to me I must be able to reach back and be ready to do it blindly. But most importantly, I have to stop judging people. I will never know what others are truly thinking about me anyway and in the end it doesn't matter what they think.
Two years ago I would never have even thought about doing something like this retreat. But here I am. It's really strange to admit this, but after 40 years on this planet, I finally feel like I've grown up a little.
The retreat was an amazingly positive experience for me and completely opposite of what the LDS religion could ever offer. And in a sense, because it was in September, it marked the two year reunion of my personal crisis that led me down the road of confusion, despair, apostasy, awakening, renewal, joy and peace. Now, two years later, it marks the beginning of a new and happier chapter of my life.
I'm rather amazed at just how little drama my life has anymore. It used to be that so much of my life, every little detail, every little thought, decision, action, expectation, and desire was weighted down with anxiety. Because every little thing had to be scrutinized for its value good or bad, I had to have certainty where something was going to lead me, heaven or hell, and most of the time I just couldn't get it. No longer do I feel the need to do that anymore. Now every so often when I meditate on my life, I amaze myself at just how uncomplicated it all really is when we let go of the things that we have no control over. Letting go. Letting go of beliefs that do not work for us. Letting go of needing to be right. Letting go of ego. And in letting go, what is left is pure authenticity. Honesty.
Oh, the lies we tell and believe. I look back at my life and see the trend as I was spiraling down to my own personal depths of becoming homophobic and how I didn't recognize the irrationality. My world view and personal identity was defined by lies. And those lies covered the pain. My ego was in control of my life, protecting me with lies. The ego is stupid. It doesn't know what a lie is but it wants to protect it no matter what. The ego can't know if what it's protecting is causing more harm. It just protects it with whatever we give it. And what I always gave it were lies.
When I came out to myself and finally accepted my sexuality, I found myself craving absolute honesty. I was no longer going to deceive myself or other people to protect my beliefs or theirs. And if the truth hurt, the honesty hurt, I knew I had to let go of my ego.
When I think about what it takes to be honest I still find myself struggling with it. Growing up in a religious culture that required me to deny the reality of my surroundings so that it would conform to a belief, a lie, has given me this horrible, habitual, dishonest, thinking pattern that I fight with all of the time. So many things where never to be thought, spoken, or acted upon. It all builds up and permeates other aspects of life.
We have to hide our fears and pretend to be happy. We don't want people to think the religion is making us depressed. We don't want to make the church look bad. We certainly don't want to admit to ourselves that we have compromised the things we know to be true so that we can belong to the "one true religion" in order to receive all the blessings from a god that we hope exists. We even convince ourselves that we know that "He" really does exist. Lie after lie after lie. After awhile I didn't know what was true anymore. I didn't even understand how I really felt about things. I couldn't at any moment in my life make a decision without consulting an authority. My thinking was done for me. And yet my life was in shambles.
The world terrified me. Meeting new people terrified me. I would have so much anxiety I could never look at anyone. I could never actually speak honestly. I was so ashamed of myself that I would lie or divert attention to someone else just so people wouldn't pay attention to me. I judged people. The judgments were all lies I told to myself. All lies I believed. It all lead to my own personal crisis two years ago in September where my entire world turned upside down and I spent months dancing on the edge of suicide.
But I finally came to some closure early Saturday morning at the retreat as I noticed two individuals off in the distance standing on the stairway to the upper floor of the 2nd ranch house as I waited to watch the sunrise. I knew they saw me. But I didn't have the courage to talk to them. I still wasn't quite free of my judgmental thinking and how it had ruled my life to the point of mental breakdown. Always judging people by what I think they would be thinking about me, always afraid that they would hate me for my sexuality, queerness and just general social awkwardness. Again, all lies.
But I knew their story from the night before and I was in empathy with them. I had only faced early death as a choice. They were facing it as an inevitability. I had no right to judge anyone, especially myself. Still, that morning, I just stood there for about an hour and cried. Mostly to mourn the loss of my old life, the life that I wanted but never had or will ever have. But in the end, whether I talked to them or not, just their mere presence that morning was a major healing experience for me. And had I spoken to them that day I would have known that they would reciprocate that empathy.
After all these years, looking for my place in the world I didn't realize that I didn't need to leave Utah to find it. Well, actually, I DID need to leave Utah to discover that I didn't need to leave Utah. My community wasn't where I was located; it was the people with whom I associate with. But I was always waiting for someone to come knocking at my door to invite me. Ironically when they did I would judge them too harshly and push them away. I've gotten to that point now where I realize that if I don't go knocking I will never know what it's like to live. And if I'm going to accept someone else's effort to reach out to me I must be able to reach back and be ready to do it blindly. But most importantly, I have to stop judging people. I will never know what others are truly thinking about me anyway and in the end it doesn't matter what they think.
Two years ago I would never have even thought about doing something like this retreat. But here I am. It's really strange to admit this, but after 40 years on this planet, I finally feel like I've grown up a little.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
My Two Dates
Online dating is a bitch. Well, dating in general is a bitch. At least it is for me. Much of the time it's just awkward but every so often it seems like people act stupid, unfair or cruel -- especially on the Internet!
Sometimes I get guys who start off flirting with me but then never seem to get past that stage. It's always nice to start like that but if I put any effort into starting a normal, sane, conversation and it just kept going back to this flirting, it's not fun anymore, it's obnoxious. The worst ones are the ones that sound like a broken record. Who knows, they are probably drunk. It's just one of the many experiences that put me on edge about the whole Internet dating game.
And then there are the ones who try to converse but don't seem to have much to say. The conversation is really just two and three word sentences. Minus even more points if they insist on using all of the internet/texting alternate spellings.
Him: "hi"
Me: "Hello"
Him: "wut u in 2?"
Me: "Oh, lots of things. It's all in my profile. Anything specific you would like to talk about?"
Him: "like 2 c u."
Me: ...
Sorry, conversation is over.
Now sometimes I'll let the alternate spelling slide by if there seems to be intelligent and earnest conversation getting through. I realize that it can be difficult to type for some people and the ironical things is I'm a notorious misspeller over the chat myself.
Many, many months ago, I was contacted by someone named Dan. The conversation started off much like above but he had just enough to say that kept me interested for longer than usual but I found myself still getting put off by the exchange. His was acting coy, truthful but terse. He surmised a lot of correct information about me but refused to answer specific questions I posed to him. A few times he stated that he would prefer not to answer when I asked him the exact equivalent question he asked me. WTF?
Despite all of that I did learn that he has a current boyfriend or "bf" has he put it. And they had been together for around 15 years. That frustrated me. Why was he so interested in me? He already had someone. Was he looking for an affair? I know a few people like that and I'm not a fan of that particular lifestyle. Although, I did wonder if this was an open relationship. I might be OK with that but at the time I just didn't want to deal with it. So, I left the conversation hanging and ignored him. It was stupid, I felt like he was being unfair and I assumed he had cruel intentions. Besides, I'm more interested in friendships or serious relationships rather than hookups. And it felt like at this point he was pursuing a hookup.
As the months went by, it appeared like Dan was stalking me, which didn't improve my opinion of him at all. I could see that he was checking my profile for activity every few days. He could tell when I logged on but I assumed that if he could see that I wasn't visiting his profile he would get the idea that I wasn't interested in him. I just wanted him to go away. Although, he wasn't harassing me so I didn't feel the need to block him.
Then many months later he contacts me again. This time, for whatever reason, I was more relaxed but I was still a bit defensive and felt determined to stay in control of the conversation. I replied in a curt manner -- or as curt as could be perceived over a short text communication. He was a bit more open with me this time. Almost immediately he told me wanted to have a threesome. WHAAA?!
OK! That wasn't what I expected.
But I was still suspicions that he was looking for an affair so I asked him in my most snippy tone -- albeit lost in the text only communication - who I would be having a threesome with. When he told me his boyfriend, Scott, well, of course, this was one of those types of couples. What is one of those types of couples? I have no idea, just lots of assumptions and labels and shit that I had been taught over the years about "those" types of couples. I had so much negative vibe about it all I couldn't even give you specifics.
But, all this time, he wasn't playing the game I thought he was playing. After several more exchanges about why he was so coy and discreet I realized I was being a huge hypocritical asshole. Considering the place we live and the culture of the community and the type of work they were in, etc., I would have done the same thing had I been in his situation. It was still a game but I had completely misjudged what game he was playing and I immediately thought it was one of those shitty type games.
Although I was skeptical about a threesome, I was curious, and I was also looking for friendship. I wanted to get to know them and try to understand what it was they were looking for. Besides, I didn't have any friends out here who were gay. Dan and Scott offered to take me out to dinner and I accepted. We had a pleasant time talking about the weather, work, religion, and life.
For whatever reason, whether it was Dan's approach or perhaps just the awkwardness of using simple text based communication, I had gotten it completely wrong. And I had thought the worst of this person, these people. The stupid, unfair and cruel thoughts. My assumptions were simply my bias based solely on labels about people that I had grown up believing. Stupid, unfair and cruel labels that had become deep seated beliefs fully ingrained into my thinking -- in other words, emotional baggage. The kind of emotional baggage you don't know you have until it suddenly slaps you upside the head and turns you into an asshole.
Scott did say he wanted to keep in touch. And I feel like I could be friends with these guys but that part about the threesome...I don't think it will happen. I'm just not that drawn to the idea enough to really care about it. Besides, it just brings up a completely different set of emotional baggage. This time it's a matched set that has never been used. Boy, they sure look spiffy with their reinforced zippers, castor wheels and rather pleasant blue floral pattern. Who knows what may be lurking in those bags that will dial up my asshole mode to eleven.
Sometimes I get guys who start off flirting with me but then never seem to get past that stage. It's always nice to start like that but if I put any effort into starting a normal, sane, conversation and it just kept going back to this flirting, it's not fun anymore, it's obnoxious. The worst ones are the ones that sound like a broken record. Who knows, they are probably drunk. It's just one of the many experiences that put me on edge about the whole Internet dating game.
And then there are the ones who try to converse but don't seem to have much to say. The conversation is really just two and three word sentences. Minus even more points if they insist on using all of the internet/texting alternate spellings.
Him: "hi"
Me: "Hello"
Him: "wut u in 2?"
Me: "Oh, lots of things. It's all in my profile. Anything specific you would like to talk about?"
Him: "like 2 c u."
Me: ...
Sorry, conversation is over.
Now sometimes I'll let the alternate spelling slide by if there seems to be intelligent and earnest conversation getting through. I realize that it can be difficult to type for some people and the ironical things is I'm a notorious misspeller over the chat myself.
Many, many months ago, I was contacted by someone named Dan. The conversation started off much like above but he had just enough to say that kept me interested for longer than usual but I found myself still getting put off by the exchange. His was acting coy, truthful but terse. He surmised a lot of correct information about me but refused to answer specific questions I posed to him. A few times he stated that he would prefer not to answer when I asked him the exact equivalent question he asked me. WTF?
Despite all of that I did learn that he has a current boyfriend or "bf" has he put it. And they had been together for around 15 years. That frustrated me. Why was he so interested in me? He already had someone. Was he looking for an affair? I know a few people like that and I'm not a fan of that particular lifestyle. Although, I did wonder if this was an open relationship. I might be OK with that but at the time I just didn't want to deal with it. So, I left the conversation hanging and ignored him. It was stupid, I felt like he was being unfair and I assumed he had cruel intentions. Besides, I'm more interested in friendships or serious relationships rather than hookups. And it felt like at this point he was pursuing a hookup.
As the months went by, it appeared like Dan was stalking me, which didn't improve my opinion of him at all. I could see that he was checking my profile for activity every few days. He could tell when I logged on but I assumed that if he could see that I wasn't visiting his profile he would get the idea that I wasn't interested in him. I just wanted him to go away. Although, he wasn't harassing me so I didn't feel the need to block him.
Then many months later he contacts me again. This time, for whatever reason, I was more relaxed but I was still a bit defensive and felt determined to stay in control of the conversation. I replied in a curt manner -- or as curt as could be perceived over a short text communication. He was a bit more open with me this time. Almost immediately he told me wanted to have a threesome. WHAAA?!
OK! That wasn't what I expected.
But I was still suspicions that he was looking for an affair so I asked him in my most snippy tone -- albeit lost in the text only communication - who I would be having a threesome with. When he told me his boyfriend, Scott, well, of course, this was one of those types of couples. What is one of those types of couples? I have no idea, just lots of assumptions and labels and shit that I had been taught over the years about "those" types of couples. I had so much negative vibe about it all I couldn't even give you specifics.
But, all this time, he wasn't playing the game I thought he was playing. After several more exchanges about why he was so coy and discreet I realized I was being a huge hypocritical asshole. Considering the place we live and the culture of the community and the type of work they were in, etc., I would have done the same thing had I been in his situation. It was still a game but I had completely misjudged what game he was playing and I immediately thought it was one of those shitty type games.
Although I was skeptical about a threesome, I was curious, and I was also looking for friendship. I wanted to get to know them and try to understand what it was they were looking for. Besides, I didn't have any friends out here who were gay. Dan and Scott offered to take me out to dinner and I accepted. We had a pleasant time talking about the weather, work, religion, and life.
For whatever reason, whether it was Dan's approach or perhaps just the awkwardness of using simple text based communication, I had gotten it completely wrong. And I had thought the worst of this person, these people. The stupid, unfair and cruel thoughts. My assumptions were simply my bias based solely on labels about people that I had grown up believing. Stupid, unfair and cruel labels that had become deep seated beliefs fully ingrained into my thinking -- in other words, emotional baggage. The kind of emotional baggage you don't know you have until it suddenly slaps you upside the head and turns you into an asshole.
Scott did say he wanted to keep in touch. And I feel like I could be friends with these guys but that part about the threesome...I don't think it will happen. I'm just not that drawn to the idea enough to really care about it. Besides, it just brings up a completely different set of emotional baggage. This time it's a matched set that has never been used. Boy, they sure look spiffy with their reinforced zippers, castor wheels and rather pleasant blue floral pattern. Who knows what may be lurking in those bags that will dial up my asshole mode to eleven.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
I Must Needs Be Labeled
Over the past few months I've been thinking about how I would go about resetting my blog. I felt like I had gotten to a point where I was writing myself into a corner on account of how I talked about my goals for the blog vs. where it ended up going. Ultimately, I was using this blog to search for my identity. But upon trying on different things in that attempt, I found myself getting locked into conditions that I wasn't comfortable with. I started to worry a lot about being consistent, as if I was writing to an audience that was expecting me to only write a particular way and only about particular things.
I wanted to present myself in a way that showed that I was mature, refined and intelligent. Am I any of those things? Who am I? What am I? What does it mean to be something? I have been trying to figure that out my whole life. I needed a definition. I wanted to find my voice. And I was searching for a role. What is my role?
It took me awhile to realize that when trying to define who I am by assigning myself a role, I'm no longer myself. I'm that role. And what was defining this role? Perceptions? Who's perceptions? Mine? Or my opinion of how I think others would perceive me. Yeah, not just how I think others would perceive me but my opinion of how I think others would perceive me. Such that I would attempt to predict how they might perceive me in a particular way, and then I would add to that judgment a judgment, good or bad, based solely on what I judge they might be thinking.
Complicated? Yeah, and fucking ridiculous too. It's all a judgment of a judgment of a judgment of a judgment where all judgments are pulled out of my ass. I could probably channel that creativity into something more productive.
Unfortunately it's a bad habit from decades of habitually not thinking about the habitual thinking patterns that feed themselves with more bad habitual non-thinking.
Wait, does that even make sense? Yea, it does now that I've reread it a few times. I just had to think about it.
We are taught in our youth that labels matter. Yes, we are taught this. We are taught to identify ourselves by those labels. Is that why insults and name calling hurt so much? Is it no wonder why we are cautioned not to use them to intentionally hurt people? If labels didn't matter, we couldn't use them to hurt. But they do matter and we do use them to hurt. All the while we tell ourselves that we don't mean to hurt people. But we do. And we hurt ourselves too.
We give others permission, we give ourselves permission and sometimes we think we've been given permission by The Lord God Almighty™ to use labels, sometimes to intentionally hurt people. The scriptures are full of labels. Lists and lists of them. All based on the author's personal bias. Who is the author? God? It depends on who you talk to but many believe it was god. Many of those believers gave themselves important, authoritarian sounding labels which gave them power over those who didn't.
I spent decades being deceptively beaten into submission and subjected to the dictates of importantly labeled people. So, any of my efforts to define my existence had basically been done for me. I didn't have to figure it out. I took it for granted that the labels placed on me, as to my identity, were who I really was?
It started with simple labels that put an identity to how my behavior was being perceived by others: shy, quiet, bashful, funny, obedient, mature, depressed, arrogant, obnoxious, intelligent, annoying. These were incidental moments, but over time, I adopted them as to who I was. I could identify with these things easily. The definitions came from a dictionary.
Then there were the more abstract and complicated labels. These were to deepen my identity and give it greater responsibility: Son, Brother, Friend, Student, Christian, Mormon, Child of God, Sinner, Homosexual, Abomination, Sodomite, Pervert, Pedophile, Apostate. These roles were harder to define. Too many different perspectives and opinions as to what these roles meant. It was harder to adapt to these roles. They kept changing depending on the time or the place or the other person's perception. I resisted many of them but they would stir in the back of my mind, beckoning me to define and attach to my identity.
What did they say about me? Obnoxious? Christian? Sinner? Mature? Pervert? Child of God? Pedophile? Am I these things? How do I know? How do they respond to the idea of each of these things? If they think the label is positive can I meet their expectations? Should I meet them? If it's negative is it true? What is my experience? If I believe their perceptions are valid then those labels might be true, even if I don't like them, even if they are not true. What do I do? If they are not true am I going to need to take on opposing roles so as to appear unpredictable and inconsistent, also labels, in order to hide or disassociate from them? Hopefully those labels would be taken away if I did. Or do I just resign my identity to the labeling authorities' and live accordingly so as not to counter their expectations of what I should do thereby avoiding unwanted conflict?
It's psychotic. Once these labels are assigned, they taint how we perceive others and ourselves; we distort who we really are.
So, all this time I've been caught up in labels, caught up with needing a label for my identity. Who am I? What am I? What am I right now? Does it have a label? Writer? Brother? Son? Homosexual? Pervert? Etc.? Or can I just believe that I am mature, refined and intelligent? At least that's what I tell myself to counter the negative labels that I've been forced to identify with. But, ultimately, that just causes me to take on a role of self-righteousness and arrogance as it's only a reaction to anyone who I perceived as not being mature, refined and intelligent.
No. I'm not any of these things. They are all someone else's version of me. And in the end these roles require that I behave in ways that are also defined by someone else. None of them describe the being that is me.
Does it matter?
I want to understand myself but, again, the moment I think I have an understanding I've already assigned it a role, a label, based on someone else's perception. It's the classic physics problem wherein the attempt to measure the event causes the event to change. We are only ourselves when we are not trying to define, label or categorize ourselves.
Our existence seems to evade traditional definability. Are we then indefinable? We can't even say we are human as that is really only a label to describe our physical from. It's not who we are. The best I could say as a definition is that we are beings who are aware of ourselves.
So, when I'm not thinking about who I am, I'm not trying to be someone. At that point I'm just me. If I can be content to never understanding who I am does that mean I've finally found who I am? I can't really put my finger on why, but this actually makes sense to me.
So, anyway, back to this blog... I've decided what I'm going to do about it.
Nothing.
It is what it is: a public presentation of some guy's journey in life marked with specific points in time by long strings of words that reflect the contents of his brain as he dumps it from a big dump truck and pipes it into the series of tubes that is the Internet.
He'll think whatever, and write whatever.
You can read whatever and think whatever. If you feel inclined to comment, you can write whatever.
Win-Win!
Yay!
I wanted to present myself in a way that showed that I was mature, refined and intelligent. Am I any of those things? Who am I? What am I? What does it mean to be something? I have been trying to figure that out my whole life. I needed a definition. I wanted to find my voice. And I was searching for a role. What is my role?
It took me awhile to realize that when trying to define who I am by assigning myself a role, I'm no longer myself. I'm that role. And what was defining this role? Perceptions? Who's perceptions? Mine? Or my opinion of how I think others would perceive me. Yeah, not just how I think others would perceive me but my opinion of how I think others would perceive me. Such that I would attempt to predict how they might perceive me in a particular way, and then I would add to that judgment a judgment, good or bad, based solely on what I judge they might be thinking.
Complicated? Yeah, and fucking ridiculous too. It's all a judgment of a judgment of a judgment of a judgment where all judgments are pulled out of my ass. I could probably channel that creativity into something more productive.
Unfortunately it's a bad habit from decades of habitually not thinking about the habitual thinking patterns that feed themselves with more bad habitual non-thinking.
Wait, does that even make sense? Yea, it does now that I've reread it a few times. I just had to think about it.
We are taught in our youth that labels matter. Yes, we are taught this. We are taught to identify ourselves by those labels. Is that why insults and name calling hurt so much? Is it no wonder why we are cautioned not to use them to intentionally hurt people? If labels didn't matter, we couldn't use them to hurt. But they do matter and we do use them to hurt. All the while we tell ourselves that we don't mean to hurt people. But we do. And we hurt ourselves too.
We give others permission, we give ourselves permission and sometimes we think we've been given permission by The Lord God Almighty™ to use labels, sometimes to intentionally hurt people. The scriptures are full of labels. Lists and lists of them. All based on the author's personal bias. Who is the author? God? It depends on who you talk to but many believe it was god. Many of those believers gave themselves important, authoritarian sounding labels which gave them power over those who didn't.
I spent decades being deceptively beaten into submission and subjected to the dictates of importantly labeled people. So, any of my efforts to define my existence had basically been done for me. I didn't have to figure it out. I took it for granted that the labels placed on me, as to my identity, were who I really was?
It started with simple labels that put an identity to how my behavior was being perceived by others: shy, quiet, bashful, funny, obedient, mature, depressed, arrogant, obnoxious, intelligent, annoying. These were incidental moments, but over time, I adopted them as to who I was. I could identify with these things easily. The definitions came from a dictionary.
Then there were the more abstract and complicated labels. These were to deepen my identity and give it greater responsibility: Son, Brother, Friend, Student, Christian, Mormon, Child of God, Sinner, Homosexual, Abomination, Sodomite, Pervert, Pedophile, Apostate. These roles were harder to define. Too many different perspectives and opinions as to what these roles meant. It was harder to adapt to these roles. They kept changing depending on the time or the place or the other person's perception. I resisted many of them but they would stir in the back of my mind, beckoning me to define and attach to my identity.
What did they say about me? Obnoxious? Christian? Sinner? Mature? Pervert? Child of God? Pedophile? Am I these things? How do I know? How do they respond to the idea of each of these things? If they think the label is positive can I meet their expectations? Should I meet them? If it's negative is it true? What is my experience? If I believe their perceptions are valid then those labels might be true, even if I don't like them, even if they are not true. What do I do? If they are not true am I going to need to take on opposing roles so as to appear unpredictable and inconsistent, also labels, in order to hide or disassociate from them? Hopefully those labels would be taken away if I did. Or do I just resign my identity to the labeling authorities' and live accordingly so as not to counter their expectations of what I should do thereby avoiding unwanted conflict?
It's psychotic. Once these labels are assigned, they taint how we perceive others and ourselves; we distort who we really are.
So, all this time I've been caught up in labels, caught up with needing a label for my identity. Who am I? What am I? What am I right now? Does it have a label? Writer? Brother? Son? Homosexual? Pervert? Etc.? Or can I just believe that I am mature, refined and intelligent? At least that's what I tell myself to counter the negative labels that I've been forced to identify with. But, ultimately, that just causes me to take on a role of self-righteousness and arrogance as it's only a reaction to anyone who I perceived as not being mature, refined and intelligent.
No. I'm not any of these things. They are all someone else's version of me. And in the end these roles require that I behave in ways that are also defined by someone else. None of them describe the being that is me.
Does it matter?
I want to understand myself but, again, the moment I think I have an understanding I've already assigned it a role, a label, based on someone else's perception. It's the classic physics problem wherein the attempt to measure the event causes the event to change. We are only ourselves when we are not trying to define, label or categorize ourselves.
Our existence seems to evade traditional definability. Are we then indefinable? We can't even say we are human as that is really only a label to describe our physical from. It's not who we are. The best I could say as a definition is that we are beings who are aware of ourselves.
So, when I'm not thinking about who I am, I'm not trying to be someone. At that point I'm just me. If I can be content to never understanding who I am does that mean I've finally found who I am? I can't really put my finger on why, but this actually makes sense to me.
So, anyway, back to this blog... I've decided what I'm going to do about it.
Nothing.
It is what it is: a public presentation of some guy's journey in life marked with specific points in time by long strings of words that reflect the contents of his brain as he dumps it from a big dump truck and pipes it into the series of tubes that is the Internet.
He'll think whatever, and write whatever.
You can read whatever and think whatever. If you feel inclined to comment, you can write whatever.
Win-Win!
Yay!
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Looking Back
NOTE:
The following was a letter I sent to my mom in July of 2008. It was an attempt to explain to her my rocky relationship with the church over the years. It's interesting to look back and see what I was working through during my moments of clarity, although, parts of it are aimless and incoherent. It is what it is and marks a milestone in my path to thinking for myself. WARNING: It's long. But then I had a lot to say.
---
Well, I keep going back to the churches official statement on homos.
http://newsroom.lds.org/ldsnewsroom/eng/public-issues/same-gender-attraction
And it's continually laced with behavior this and behavior that.
OAKS: "The distinction between feelings or inclinations on the one hand, and behavior on the other hand, is very clear. It's no sin to have inclinations that if yielded to would produce behavior that would be a transgression. "
WICKMAN: "One of the great sophistries of our age, I think, is that merely because one has an inclination to do something, that therefore acting in accordance with that inclination is inevitable. That's contrary to our very nature as the Lord has revealed to us. We do have the power to control our behavior."
Remember about what I said regarding behavior that is unconscious.
They are not referring to that. It appears that they don't recognize it at all. What they are getting at is holding hands, hugging, kissing, etc. Behaviors that would get one kicked out of BYU if it was between the same sex. Those are visual, made by choice and are judged by them as sinful, disgusting, abominable, perverted etc. Between opposite sex it's expected and desired behavior.
Wickman is especially offensive when he refers to it as a lifestyle and that we are just simply "afflicted with same-gender attraction". His statement is basically why I have to get the fuck out of here. The reality is not that I'm afflicted with same-gender attraction, the reality is that I'm afflicted by other peoples ignorance and bigotry and fear. The semantics of the argument are to twist it into what amounts to as emotional blackmail.
Check out the section where he uses his handicapped daughter as a tool for manipulating his point. It has a place as an illustrative example but it is manipulative because to me it compares apples to asparagus.
I'm still trying to argue with these people in my mind. I feel the need to challenge these things because it's very clear to me that the truth is getting manipulated with semantics in order to misrepresent or demonized homosexuality as it exists within natural human behavior. It's frustrating to me because I don't know how to communicate what it is they are doing all of the time.
They just don't understand how hurtful it is to be marginalized especially in the very subtle ways they are doing it. It's hard to let go of. Right now I'm lacking any gay affirming influences because I'm so isolated out here. But that's just what they want me to avoid. As long as I can never accept who I really am they will be able to exhort a measure of control over me. I just don't know what to do right now.
Somehow I can't help but think that the truth of my existence has been used against me in order for the church to exhort some sort of control. But what is this control? Why do they want to control? That I don't understand. With control there is no agency. But they keep teaching agency but it's always associated with the teaching of consequences. But that is common sense. However it's tainted. It's loaded down with promises of things to come. I must have faith and I must make the right choice or I will not reap the benefits of the after life. If I fail to make the right choice I will be cut off. Promises and threats, to warn me of the right and wrong choice. And then a judgment on what is right and wrong. It's as if I'm not allowed to think for myself. But then if I don't make the choice I'm told to make, then the church cuts me off and says that I've cut myself off from god. I'm controlled or "forced" to pick the right choice. But what about the reward? Well if I didn't get the reward than I'm told I didn't choose "hard" enough. This sounds hyperbola. The explanation may seem contrived but the experience and the feelings are not.
This is madness. I come to the church for answers and put effort into it and they promise answers and all I get back are reasons why I'm not going to get answers. I get condemnation for something I didn't choose. Telling me (at least in the past) that it was something I did or created and that I didn't work hard enough to be rid of it or I really didn't want it to go away. Why did I put so much trust in the church? Because I was told that the church was [guided with] this mysterious thing called the spirit and that would give normal people knowledge beyond what the world could ever figure out on their own. I wanted this great spirit to give me knowledge and answers.
But those answered never came. Why? I was told that I didn't have enough faith. What was faith? I believed that I would get answers and was told that the reason I got nothing because I didn't have enough faith and if I wanted answers I had to work harder. I didn't know that believing and faith were the same thing. But whatever the case may be, I was lead to believe that what ever was lacking was my fault and I would have to figure out what the problem was on my own and if I asked god he would help though the spirit. In the mean time I invest time and even some money into this church and all I get back is someone telling me that I'm not doing it right.
But then what is the church for? The church is for the people. Then why do the people have to work so hard for the church? Why must I prove to the church my worthiness?
I'm told that I must repent of homosexual tendencies. Tendencies? So these are things that I can "stop doing" or swing back to heterosexual tendencies? That sounds laughable.
To do that, I have to rid myself of them. How? This is so inherent to my ingrained thinking I don't know how to think any other way. I have to destroy that part of me. How? I can only deny that part of me. I have to lie to myself. How can that create a stable personal identity? It doesn't. I should know. I tried it. But I still had no concept for heterosexual tendencies.
It bugs the shit out of me that the church only thinks of it in terms of erotic attraction. I can't even begin to explain how surreptitious that line of rationalization is. It's as if to admit that if it's anything other than sex then it would put it in danger of getting legitimized.
There seems to be this preoccupation with sex. It seems to be one of the most prominent tools used to control and manipulate in the church.
I have never known a time in this church when I never felt like I was being manipulated, controlled and punished. There was always something I wasn't doing right. And it didn't matter how small and mundane. It got to the point that everything in my life had a right and wrong answer. I couldn't trust my own judgment anymore. How could I? No matter what I thought, there was always someone else judging my decision as not in accordance with the "right" choice. I didn't really know what that the judgment of "right" was. I had the spirit but I couldn't figure it out. There was always some authority figures with the spirit who would always tell me my choices were "wrong".
They were always people in the church.
So the church is made out of men. Men who are constantly telling us that the lord directs the church. But then where is the lord on this issue? I guess it doesn't really matter that much. I don't really get the purpose of the lord in this plan anyway. But nonetheless, where is he? Where is the revelation that tells us what the deal is with gay people? No one has asked. The proclamation was never claimed to be revelation.
But what of this scripture: http://scriptures.lds.org/2_ne/4/34-35#34
2 Nephi 4:34-35
"34 O Lord, I have trusted in thee, and I will trust in thee forever. I will not put my trust in the arm of flesh; for I know that cursed is he that putteth his trust in the arm of flesh. Yea, cursed is he that putteth his trust in man or maketh flesh his arm.
35 Yea, I know that God will give liberally to him that asketh. Yea, my God will give me, if I ask not amiss; therefore I will lift up my voice unto thee; yea, I will cry unto thee, my God, the rock of my righteousness. Behold, my voice shall forever ascend up unto thee, my rock and mine everlasting God. Amen. "
So the church is made of men whom I'm not to trust in. But the church says trust in the men as they "are led by god". And the men assure us that God would never allow the men of the church to lead us astray. But who is saying that? Well, God is, right? I go to him and ask him, as he should be the one that tells me what's going on. "IF I ask not amiss." and then a string of appeasement? It is written as such but that would be silly for that to be what is meant.
But the men in the church want appeasement or I'm not righteous enough. They tell me that it's the reason why, when I went to pray for confirmation, I got a DIFFERENT answer than what they told me. They said it was because I asked amiss, that I was selfish and was denying the spirit. I had done it wrong.
I don't know how many times I've heard them tell me over the years to go back and pray about it until I got the answer that they said I should get.
Manipulation indeed.
Well the men are running this church right now. And because of that I can't continue on. Some times I feel like I'm betraying you(mom). Sometime I feel like I've actually fallen into the trappings of the devil. The men of the church warned me over and over again that the adversary would work really hard to do this and ensnare me to twist and corrupt the words to work in my favor.
Yet no matter what I read I see the words being open ended for anyone to twist and distort them to be used for what ever purpose they want them to be.
The men in the church use their standing as the authority to judge my views as sinful and my life as inherently flawed. And that this flaw is a burden I must carry the rest of my life. But they judge that this burden, as an internal struggle of same-sex attraction, is no different than someone's susceptibility to gambling, tobacco or alcohol? (Oaks says this stuff) His tactics, by using such conditions as examples of comparison, stand on their own merits as missing the point as far as I'm concerned. And I would pray that people would really examine the reality of the church's silly treatment of the gay issue in society and then just leave us alone. Stop trying to fix us. Stop trying to set us aside as perversions of nature who are a threat to children and the moral fabric of society.
I don't see same-sex attraction as the burden anymore. And I can't find compelling reason to even believe that homosexual sex is sinful. And I would be amiss to not realize that the men in the church make sure I understand that I've rationalized myself into this egregious apostasy and sinned against god and nature. After all, homosexual sex is one of the vilest acts of indecency the church has had the privilege to condemn.
But this isn't about sex. It's about love. If I can't accept the reality that I fall in love with other men than I can't possibly learn to accept myself and understand the concept of loving myself. A concept that has been utterly foreign to me all my life. How can I understand what it means to love god or neighbor if I can't even know the basic love of who I am.
No, the real burden is to go though life as a second class human being in the eyes of the church and much of society. Prone to discrimination and threat of life. To be hated by some for no other reason than to fulfill their need to hate someone.
The biggest lie is that this life is a test or exam. It's not a test. It's an experience. But just last Sunday that old line was fed again and again. "This life is a test to see what we will do. To test our willingness to make right choices. And as we make the right choices, God rewards us in heaven." blah blah blah. Right and wrong choices. There seems to be a problem when a group of people who have no knowledge or experience in another person's life has the authority to dictate what is the right and wrong choice for them. And then claims authority to dish out judgment and punishment if the "right" choice isn't made.
What am I still holding on to? I'm still holding out for some more answers. And admittedly I got my answers but they were just too hard to take. I have to give up things I'm not sure I can give up. I have to face head on fears that have followed me for years. It is hard. There are so many dehumanizing and demonizing beliefs that have been ingrained in me. And because of my self-realization, I know now that they must be lies. But the small shred of truth that I see in them feeds my doubts.
I recognize that the very thing the church warns of and fights against is the very thing they are responsible for creating. They fulfilled their own prophecy of the evils of homosexuals. It's that world they created I fear.
I feel like the church has managed to inflict me with severe emotional abuse.
And surely I have felt this religion as more hurtful than of healing. As many others have too. But the baggage that we all carry with us I'm afraid will prevent me from proving the church wrong.
No matter what I do it just turns out to be one big double bind for me.
Monday, July 27, 2009
My Midyear Evaluation
A while back I had a conversation with my mom about some of the things I talk about in this blog. She noted that the tone of some of my essays were angry and cynical and was concerned that I was still holding on to all that garbage and hurt from my past. Well, granted, I am holding a lot of old baggage but, for the most part, I'm not always conscious of it. My topics mostly reflect those parts that have surfaced and I've long sense put past me. However it's true that I'll rant and ramble a bit about things I haven't figured out yet to help me get my point across. That's why I'm writing. Dumping my brain. There is a lot of shit in there and I won't know what I haven't let go of until it finds its way to the surface. That's what writing does; it helps me discover, process and release. Catharsis.
As with any sort of self-discovery that gives me new insight to understanding myself, there is a need for me to express what I've learned, what happened along the way, and what it meant to me in the end. Then to share it with the world for people who might be looking for similar models of thought to which they might find affirmation, inspiration or comfort. It's my way of giving back to the people out there on the interweb tubes. After all, it was they who took the time to share their experiences that gave me the affirmation, inspiration and comfort that I so desperately needed.
As for my tone, well, it is what it is. I like to inject levity but sometimes the topic can still carry some residual resentment that hasn't fully worked its way out. I really try to avoid writing publicly until I've gotten past it or at least gotten to a point of self realization. I reserve most of my current, incoherent, rambling angst for my private journals. There is no sense writing publicly about things that would not stand a chance of being understood.
So, for the most part, I've been content over the past several months despite where I live and what I do for a living. I've had some major paradigm shifts in my thinking in the last 6 months since starting this blog that have put a lot of my residual angst at ease. And, amazingly, many other things have basically started taking care of themselves too, such as: I'm less bothered by my job and more appreciative that I have one, I'm much less obsessed with my loneliness and isolation because of where I live, I feel like I have more freedom despite the fact that nothing has really changed all that much, I'm losing weight very quickly now and have managed to lose 30 lbs since late April while not feeling burdened by hunger or the need to drown my sorrows in a pound of peanut butter M&Ms every day.
But, despite all of the good things, I still manage to find ways to kill my spirits by being a pompous asshole. I usually get my over-confident ass handed back to me on a platter, with garnish. That usually makes me feel even more like shit than before, for a while. But now I recover in a day or two rather than the months it used to take.
NOTE: I'm really not a pompous asshole on purpose. Just chalk it up to my lack of social skills.
Also, things have gotten really busy lately. After all, it's summer time and there are lots of activities vying for my attention. I've been putting longer hours in at work to get some things done and I've been spending lots of time reading, walking and writing letters to friends around the country and traveling for visits. And in all of this time I've wondered what my next blog essay was going to be about. And right now I don't really know. I guess for now it will just be this little bit of mental doodling as I take stock of my current situation.
Here's why:
The things that have been pressing on my mind as of late delve into the specific realm of BDSM and my spiritual growth within that practice. But the problem I have is that BDSM is a highly misunderstood and heavily stigmatized lifestyle. In all fairness there are other cultures, religions and lifestyles in this world that are treated with even worse disdain. I'm not innocent as I've got a personal dislike for a few in particular and have said so.
So, despite this possible opportunity to help people understand, I'm not going to take it at this time mostly because I'm not ready to be an expert on it. Besides, there is a great deal of material written on the subject both good and bad and if someone truly feels inclined to understand it they will make the effort to learn about it. I only have my personal perspective to add and it's not going to mean anything unless there is a dialog about it with some basic common understanding.
So, why in the hell did I even bring it up?
Ultimately, it was just the idea of bringing it up on this blog that was pressing on my mind the most. I had been worrying about what people would do if I, just out of the blue, decided to dive in things that could -- I don't know -- disgust, frighten, disturb? I'm not sure, it's all a matter of perspective and I never know when someone is going to freak out.
I had originally expected that this blog might be the perfect place that I could on occasion share such philosophy, but as things started to roll along, I sort of got distracted and sidelined by other issues that were more pressing on my mind at the time. Then, add to that, some of my friends, family members and coworkers ventured here. Sure, they all know about me and my aptitude for BDSM, but they also didn't really want to know about it either. So here I am, pandering to what people might think and worrying about possibly offending the world view of other people. It's just the thing to keep me from living my life authentically, or am I just learning common decency? Once again, I don't know. I don't believe my life is indecent; that's just what other people believe it to be.
I really don't want to start another blog just for this subject so I'm going to wrestle with my self-censorship on the matter. Not out of shame, not because it's a secret or sacred philosophy, but because it runs deeply personal and I'm just not ready to give it over to just any audience. For those who are BDSM practitioners, you may know what I'm saying. The rest of you I'm going leave you to wonder what the hell I'm going on about.
Am I being ridiculous?
Here I am bringing it up just to say that I'm not going to talk about it. Unwilling to dive into some deeply personal subject matter, and yet, I'm egotistical enough to take the effort to mention something that I'm not going to talk about and make sure everyone knows that I want to talk about something that I'm not going to talk about.
I am being ridiculous.
As with any sort of self-discovery that gives me new insight to understanding myself, there is a need for me to express what I've learned, what happened along the way, and what it meant to me in the end. Then to share it with the world for people who might be looking for similar models of thought to which they might find affirmation, inspiration or comfort. It's my way of giving back to the people out there on the interweb tubes. After all, it was they who took the time to share their experiences that gave me the affirmation, inspiration and comfort that I so desperately needed.
As for my tone, well, it is what it is. I like to inject levity but sometimes the topic can still carry some residual resentment that hasn't fully worked its way out. I really try to avoid writing publicly until I've gotten past it or at least gotten to a point of self realization. I reserve most of my current, incoherent, rambling angst for my private journals. There is no sense writing publicly about things that would not stand a chance of being understood.
So, for the most part, I've been content over the past several months despite where I live and what I do for a living. I've had some major paradigm shifts in my thinking in the last 6 months since starting this blog that have put a lot of my residual angst at ease. And, amazingly, many other things have basically started taking care of themselves too, such as: I'm less bothered by my job and more appreciative that I have one, I'm much less obsessed with my loneliness and isolation because of where I live, I feel like I have more freedom despite the fact that nothing has really changed all that much, I'm losing weight very quickly now and have managed to lose 30 lbs since late April while not feeling burdened by hunger or the need to drown my sorrows in a pound of peanut butter M&Ms every day.
But, despite all of the good things, I still manage to find ways to kill my spirits by being a pompous asshole. I usually get my over-confident ass handed back to me on a platter, with garnish. That usually makes me feel even more like shit than before, for a while. But now I recover in a day or two rather than the months it used to take.
NOTE: I'm really not a pompous asshole on purpose. Just chalk it up to my lack of social skills.
Also, things have gotten really busy lately. After all, it's summer time and there are lots of activities vying for my attention. I've been putting longer hours in at work to get some things done and I've been spending lots of time reading, walking and writing letters to friends around the country and traveling for visits. And in all of this time I've wondered what my next blog essay was going to be about. And right now I don't really know. I guess for now it will just be this little bit of mental doodling as I take stock of my current situation.
Here's why:
The things that have been pressing on my mind as of late delve into the specific realm of BDSM and my spiritual growth within that practice. But the problem I have is that BDSM is a highly misunderstood and heavily stigmatized lifestyle. In all fairness there are other cultures, religions and lifestyles in this world that are treated with even worse disdain. I'm not innocent as I've got a personal dislike for a few in particular and have said so.
So, despite this possible opportunity to help people understand, I'm not going to take it at this time mostly because I'm not ready to be an expert on it. Besides, there is a great deal of material written on the subject both good and bad and if someone truly feels inclined to understand it they will make the effort to learn about it. I only have my personal perspective to add and it's not going to mean anything unless there is a dialog about it with some basic common understanding.
So, why in the hell did I even bring it up?
Ultimately, it was just the idea of bringing it up on this blog that was pressing on my mind the most. I had been worrying about what people would do if I, just out of the blue, decided to dive in things that could -- I don't know -- disgust, frighten, disturb? I'm not sure, it's all a matter of perspective and I never know when someone is going to freak out.
I had originally expected that this blog might be the perfect place that I could on occasion share such philosophy, but as things started to roll along, I sort of got distracted and sidelined by other issues that were more pressing on my mind at the time. Then, add to that, some of my friends, family members and coworkers ventured here. Sure, they all know about me and my aptitude for BDSM, but they also didn't really want to know about it either. So here I am, pandering to what people might think and worrying about possibly offending the world view of other people. It's just the thing to keep me from living my life authentically, or am I just learning common decency? Once again, I don't know. I don't believe my life is indecent; that's just what other people believe it to be.
I really don't want to start another blog just for this subject so I'm going to wrestle with my self-censorship on the matter. Not out of shame, not because it's a secret or sacred philosophy, but because it runs deeply personal and I'm just not ready to give it over to just any audience. For those who are BDSM practitioners, you may know what I'm saying. The rest of you I'm going leave you to wonder what the hell I'm going on about.
Am I being ridiculous?
Here I am bringing it up just to say that I'm not going to talk about it. Unwilling to dive into some deeply personal subject matter, and yet, I'm egotistical enough to take the effort to mention something that I'm not going to talk about and make sure everyone knows that I want to talk about something that I'm not going to talk about.
I am being ridiculous.
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