Eternal Perspectives

Last Tuesday was my last week of Institute for the semester. It was an interesting semester, filled with both ups, and downs. The highlight of the semester was by far my Women and the Gospel: Eternal Perspectives class. While the class did not emulate my vision of women in the Church, nor did it change my beliefs, it offered me a different perspective, and a different voice to the conversation.

Sister Lisa Clayton is one of the biggest reasons I have stayed active in the Church. She showed us glimpses of our futures, filled with free thought, postgraduate education, careers, and motherhood. She allowed us to have an opinion, and did not shut down a conversation when difficult questions were asked, or when alternative opinions were voiced. She let us think, pray, ponder, and learn. She allowed us to come up with our own conclusions. She gave us freedom to choose.

At the end of class I gave her a letter. Sister Clayton will not be back next semester to teach, because she will be in the Toronto Canada Mission serving as Mission President with her husband. I have all the hope in the world that she will be a resource, a mentor, and a guide to those 19 year old sisters. Because that's exactly what she was to me.

Sister Clayton,

I just wanted to say how thankful I am for you, and for you're class. I signed up for Institute this year with hesitation... I've had less than positive experiences in Institute, and in the Church, so I walked into your classroom filled with doubt and trepidation.

In all honesty, I expected your class to be full of lessons on a "woman's place"... in the home, nurturing the children and supporting our husbands in their careers and Priesthood callings. The Church has really been hammering the idea that a woman's greatest achievements and honors come from motherhood, and I expected the class to mirror those talking points. I was pleasantly surprised every week.

Your lessons allowed for discussion, free thought, and personal opinion... something that I have been hard pressed to find in my classes and meetings as someone with alternative opinions. You allowed us to blaze our own trails, march to the beats of our own drummers. While some of us will choose to stay at home, most of us will go on to post graduate education, and careers that allow us to fulfill our mortal responsibilities and desires, while also allowing us to exceed our eternal destinies. Thank you for empowering us with these possibilities.

You asked me a few months ago in an email what I see upon my horizon... what I see my future brings. At the time, I was unsure of how to answer... the answers are anything but simple or typical. But they begin with my patriarchal blessing. The biggest thing that stands out to me is this:

The world is in commotion. There is a multitude of opinions, motives, and desires in conflict, and it is difficult for a seeker of truth to know who is right. The grace of God has given you the answer. Be grateful for the knowledge and testimony He has given you.

You see... in December 2011, right after my bishop and stake president revoked my mission call, I was in the Oquirrh Mountain Temple in South Jordan. I was in the baptistery and weeping uncontrollably. I was begging for God to take my same sex attraction away. I did not want it. And every time I asked, I was met with a tidal wave of despair and hopelessness. I believed the words of my bishop... that I was defected. Broken. Unclean. I planned on the trip being my last temple attendance. I was planning suicide.

And then, suddenly, I asked, "Is it ok for me to be gay? Is this how you made me?" The floodgates burst open, and all of the love, support, and joy I've been praying for, flooded into my body. This revelation of love and confirmation that God did indeed love me, and made me this way was not the only one. I felt strong impressions to find a wife, and to have a family... but most importantly, I was instructed to stay in the Church. My Heavenly Mother, and my Heavenly Father validated my hurt feelings, but They told me to "stay a little longer." So I'm still here.

I firmly believe that the revelation was from God. Satan cannot penetrate the walls of the temple, and his misleading messages cause doubt and fear. This was the farthest thing from fear and doubt. This was my spiritual rebirth.

My Patriarchal Blessing goes on to tell me:

You have been reserves to come to Earth in the dispensation of the fullness of times in which you now live, in order that you could assist in the preparations for the Second Coming of the Lord Jesus Christ.

You will be able to accomplish the purposes for which you were sent to the Earth. There are significant purposes and circumstances where you'll provide very valuable assistance in accomplishing the work of the Lord.

I now know, 3 years later, that my true mission is here. Being active in my ward. Being a leader with Affirmation: LGBT Mormons, Families & Friends. My mission is to quell the untrue myths about LGBT people. I am here to show that we are just as good people, just as good parents, and just as good disciples of Christ as our heterosexual and cisgender brothers and sisters.

I do not claim to be receiving revelation for the Church. I want that to be clear. But I do want to stress that my Heavenly Mother and Father told me these things so that I would stay. Stay in the Church, but also to stay on the Earth. In mortality. I didn't know it then, but They needed me to be here to help the change in the Church to flourish and grow.

So... my horizon has a wife. Foster kids. A career in public service. A temple marriage. Ward/stake callings. Maybe even a few books. Pretty normal if you ask me. And hopefully, in 5, 10 or 20 years it will be seen as normal by everyone else.

Thank you for all of your love and support. You will be a fantastic asset to all of those sisters. Empower them to be who they are, to think for themselves, and help them grow into the strong leaders we will need in the future.

Love, Ellen

What Would Jesus Do?

This Saturday, April 5th, I had the opportunity and privilege to stand in line with a few hundred of my fellow Sisters, and many Brothers, seeking admission to the General Priesthood Session of General Conference. I stand in awe of the testimonies of the women I surrounded myself with that day, and I am so blessed to be able to call them friends.

This is my account of the events of that afternoon. My opinions and actions are mine, and many other women have similar stories. I'm just blessed to be able to voice my own.

I attended the Saturday Afternoon Session at the Conference Center right before the General Priesthood Session. At the close of the session, I watched the crowds filing out of the auditorium, and watched the seats empty. With a start, I realized that in a span of one hour, I would no longer be welcome inside of the building. It was a sobering realization.

I arrived to City Creek Park just before everyone started lining up to leave. I was herded into line right after many of the women in leadership positions, and other prominent figures like Joanna Brooks and Margaret Toscano. As we started leaving the park, there were a handful of men with signs that started yelling at us. One yelled, "Get back in the kitchen and make me some cookies!" Another yelled, "Go make me a ham sandwich and get me a Coke!" I stifled the urge to laugh... the only sandwich I would be making for a man would be a knuckle sandwich... to the crotch. But as I walked past them, I blew them both a kiss. In that moment, there was no better expression of love and compassion I could have given them.

The Salt Lake Police were there, escorting us to Temple Square. They directed us to cross the intersection from the park to Temple Square diagonally. I certainly thought it was a good idea, after all, it was more direct. The people in their cars however, did not appreciate it. Most of them were in their Sunday best, and it was clear that they were members of the Church headed to or from Conference. There were loud honks from their horns, offensive gestures out of rolled down windows, and shouted insults, and jeers. From one I heard, "You're blocking f****** traffic!" From another, "Get out of the street! Get out of the Church!" How can it possibly be seen as Christ-like, when you are screaming and flipping people off? How would Christ react to us? What would He say to us?

The hail started coming down, just as we entered the grounds by the Church Office Building. As we walked, there were women talking about their pioneer heritage. That no matter the hardships, the cold, the rain, or the snow, they persevered. I'm a convert; I have no pioneer heritage. But this helped me understand the hardships of the pioneers, and their quest for equality, and validation in their religious beliefs. The hail continued to fall, and I (without a coat or umbrella) started getting cold, wet, and a little bit miserable. But all I could continue to think was, "If this doesn't show my will and dedication for the hard work, and dedication of the priesthood, I don't know what will."

Once we got the the southeast gate of Temple Square, I noticed that the gate had been shut. The gates are NEVER shut to Temple Square unless it's after hours. I was shocked. I remembered seeing a news release saying that the Church was not going to bar us from entering Temple Square. And yet, the door was closed to us, simply because we are different. Kate noticed that the gate was not locked. So we opened the door, and we started moving towards the tabernacle.

We walked confidently, with our heads held high. As we started getting near the Tabernacle, many of the men looked at us with scorn, and distaste. There was even a man asking to see our Temple Recommends. Yet nothing, not even the hail pelting my skin, could diminish my resolve, nor put out the fire burning inside of me. I was doing what I knew to be right.

Suddenly, without warning, an older gentleman ran right into me, cutting me off, causing me to stumble, and almost fall to the ground. I couldn't believe it. There is no way that he could not have seen me! I was walking two by two near the front of a long line of women! I regained my balance, and called out to him, asking if he was ok. He never once looked back at me.

I kept moving, and I took my place in the stand by line. Women and men were lining up behind me, and the line was making its way around the Tabernacle. I started chatting with a few other people in line near me, when I noticed two men in line with us, who were not a part of Ordain Women. They were chatting with some people in front of me, when the younger man noticed that a female usher was quietly leading a handful of men to another entrance. The young man started urging the older man to get out of line, and to follow the other usher to the other entrance. Once I saw what was happening, I knew at that moment, that the "stand by" line that I was standing in, was a fake. The "real" line was somewhere else... somewhere where I was not invited.

At last, I was at the front of the line. I was standing in front of Kim Farah, the Church's chosen representative from the Public Relations Department. She introduced herself, and the first thing that she noticed was that I was soaking wet. She cared about me as a person, not as a perceived "protester". We chatted for a moment, and I asked for the opportunity to show my willingness and dedication to serve my fellow sisters and brothers in ways I have never been able to do, because I am a woman. I asked for the opportunity to bless my family and bless my home with the power and authority of God. She smiled, and politely gave the reasons why women are not ordained, and encouraged me to watch the General Women's meeting, if I had not yet seen it. I told her that I had, and that I appreciated the small steps the Church has taken in regards to the female membership and participation in our doctrine. I mentioned how pleased I was last year to listen to the historic moment where a woman was finally asked to pray in General Conference, and how exciting the news was when the photographs of the Relief Society, Young Women, and Primary Presidencies were hung in the Conference Center, next to the existing ones for the men.

Before I left, I asked her one more question. I asked, "Kim? Because this is the general priesthood meeting, are non member males, or male members who have not yet been ordained, allowed into the meeting?"

She said yes.

I replied, "Even though they do not hold the Priesthood, they are still admitted?" She answered yes again, saying that it was part of their instruction as men in the Church, similar to how women have the Women's Meeting, even if they are not members.

I then said, "Well, that is unfortunate. I could understand being barred from the meeting if it was a matter of not holding the priesthood, because then the man who lives next door to me would also be denied entrance. But it is unfortunate that my only disqualifying trait is the fact that I am a woman." I thanked her, and I gave her a hug. Before I walked away however, I paused at the closed door of the Tabernacle, and I stepped up to touch the door. I could feel the faint vibrations from the activity inside, and I said a very quick prayer of thanks, and asked the Lord to bless me with strength and patience. As I opened my eyes, a faint voice told me, "Stay yet a little longer." Only then, with my strength renewed and my testimony reinforced, did I walk away.

That night, I saw on Salt Lake Tribune the Church statement about the event... claiming that we refused to leave when asked, among other things. About a week before General Conference, the Church banned the media was from entering Temple Square. Without the press, the Church's statement is the only information released, and the information is extremely one sided. I was never told by a Church employee to leave. In the end... the fact that the Church issued this misleading statement, hurt me more than anything else over the weekend. And in hindsight, I am so glad that I had the opportunity to speak to the press after we were denied entry to the meeting. It is important for people to know what had happened, through the eyes of the people who experienced it.


Regardless of your personal feelings towards Ordain Women and it's mission, and regardless of whether or not you agree with my view of the world, and my views on the Church, what do you think Christ would have done. Would He have honked His horn and yelled out of His car window at me? Would He have caused me to stumble and fall? Would He have ridiculed me, questioned my testimony, and tell me to leave His Church? No! He would have waited patiently in His car, and caught me as I fell, so I could steady my unstable feet. He would have told me that He loved me unconditionally, and made sure that I felt welcome and valued in His Church. He would have welcomed me with open arms. So knock. Ask. Have strength, and have courage. But ask yourself... What Would Jesus Do?

I Support Ordaining Women To The Priesthood

I often mention my Catholic background in my day to day discussions about religion. Maybe it's because I like that it makes me different from my Mormon peers. I don't have the same pioneer stories about my ancestors, and unlike my generational Mormon peers, my family history binder is bare... there are just too many members if my family to find!

I still identify as Catholic in a way... not so much doctrinally, but culturally. I still attend mass on Christmas Eve and Easter, and on other holy days of obligation. I still light Advent candles and observe Lent... to prepare for Christ's birth, Atonement, death, resurrection and ascension. I will still make the sign of the cross occasionally after a prayer, because it helps me remember the three members of the Godhead; The Father, The Son, and The Holy Ghost.

In short, I still have a deep devotion to a cause that is no longer my own.

I feel this same devotion on the topic if women's ordination to the priesthood. I never considered myself a feminist until about 18 months ago. I was too scared of my homosexuality to think of anything else I could do to mock and displease God. And even now... as an advocate in the Church for the harshly marginalized LGBT community, I've slowly aligned myself with the Mormon Feminist movement, because it helps me feel like I'm not alone. I'm not the only person that sees the Church as an old (white) men's club. I'm not the only one who wonders why Heavenly Mother is frankly... Ignored. I'm not the only one who believes that religion has no place in government, and politics have no place in Church. I'm not the only one who sees inconsistencies in Church History. I'm not the only one who hears mixed messages in General Conference... "Love one another!" , "Tolerance is a trap!" I'm not the only one who has had doubts, and I'm not the only one who still has a deep and sincere love for my Heavenly Parents amid these doubts.

Should women be ordained to the Priesthood? I believe we can, and we should. I don't know if God meant the Priesthood to be for men only... Just like I don't know if the Relief Society should be for women only. I haven't asked all questions, but the question I have asked is, "What is required to be ordained to the Priesthood?" I don't have all the answers, but my I have received an answer... that you must be worthy, and willing to serve throughout your whole life. No mention of male genitalia. 

I don't know if women will be ordained in my lifetime. I don't know if women will ever be ordained. But I believe that we should. I know that I can worthily serve God. I know that I can serve worthily in the leadership of my ward, and stake. I know that God respects my devotion to my convictions. And that's why I stand with the rest of the women who tirelessly work for this cause. And on Saturday October 5, I will be standing in line at the Conference Center in Salt Lake City, requesting entry to the Priesthood Session of General Conference. This cause no longer belongs to someone else. This cause is my own.

Journal Entry 2 December 2011

It's three weeks before Christmas... And for the fifth year in a row, I'm alone... again. My family doesn't want me. God doesn't want me. Nobody wants me. I'm nobody's somebody.

I get why my parents hate me. I get why they don't want me around. They don't even know that I'm gay, but I'm a bad enough person that my gayness doesn't even need to be mentioned for me to be expelled from the family.

I get why God hates me. God hates me because I'm gay. That's a pretty good reason. It's cut and dry... Plain and simple. God loves straight people. God loves people who can "multiply and replenish the earth." God loves people who are pure of heart. But that's not me. I have impure, immoral, and unnatural thoughts all the time. I'm dirty, and repulsive. No unclean thing can enter God's presence. No unclean thing can go to heaven. But no matter how hard I scrub my skin, no matter how much, and how sincerely I pray... I'm still impure. God can't possibly love someone like me.

I still hold my temple recommend... But I know that I shouldn't. Someone gave a talk in Sacrament meeting last week about morality, and told us that if we feel rotten in our hearts about something that we have done, it means that we've sinned, and that we need to reevaluate our temple worthiness. I know that I shouldn't have it. But I need to go to the temple one last time... And then I'll figure out what to do. But I have to go just one last time.
 

I'm wearing out the carpet in my room from pacing and kneeling in prayer. I've never prayed about anything more intently, or with more sincerity than this. I was told I would be blessed when I joined the Church... And the only blessing I want is for me to be cured... I want to be straight. Yet God is silent. I've been taught that He will always answer our prayers... but to me, He is silent. He doesn't love me. He can't love me.

Journal Entry, 12 November 2011

Today I envy the heterosexual. I envy being "normal". I envy being wholesome and clean. I envy the girls that swoon over men like Channing Tatum and Joseph Gordon-Levitt. I envy the desire to date men. I envy the 95%.

I want to find men attractive. I want to view sex with men as enticing, and desirable. I want to find a temple worthy man to see me as an elect daughter of God. I want to have butterflies in my stomach when a guy smiles at me. I want to blush, and have that cute embarrassed look on my face. But I don't. I have the shame in the pit of my stomach instead.

I love Grey's Anatomy. It's my absolute favorite TV show. I wish that I could be Meredith Grey. She's straight, and she's beautiful. Meredith is awesome. Being straight is awesome. But I'm not Meredith. I'm not awesome. And I'm not straight.

The Mormon universe and the Gay universe swirl and collide in my head. They try to mix, but they are like oil and water. They touch, but they aren't the same. One is less than the other.

Why would God do this to me? Was I rebellious in the Pre-Mortal life? Was I displeasing to God? Am I unnatural? Am I sinful? I'm a virgin... But I'm considered to be immoral and virtue-less. How can I be immoral if I'm a virgin? How could I have lost my virtue if it's still physically (and emotionally) intact? Does God hate me?

I can't change. It's not lack of willpower. It's not lack of faith, or trust in God. I wasn't abused as a child, and I had good parents. Parents who didn't understand me, but they were good parents. They didn't do anything to make me the way I am. But I did. I ruined my life before it even started.

Should I end it in the same fashion?

Gay Catholic To Gay Mormon

I've never sat down to write down my conversion story. I've told it countless times, and I still have my journal from when I was an investigator... but I've never actually written it down. My future grandchildren are probably shaking their heads at me from their little clouds up in Heaven... I can feel it.

I grew up in Defiance, Ohio and growing up I was raised as a devout Roman Catholic. Both sides of my family are Catholic, and they probably have all been Catholic since Christ declared that Peter was the rock upon which He would build His church (which, every Catholic knows is the defining moment where Christ declared Peter the first Pope, and the Catholic Church was born.)

My grandparents on my mother's side (the Romary's) consistently attend daily mass, and are notorious for attending Saturday evening mass, so Grandpa can sleep in on Sunday. My grandparents went to Central Catholic High School, and my mom and her siblings all attended one the Catholic high schools in Fort Wayne, Indiana... Bishop Luers High School, and my cousin Elizabeth is going into her sophomore year at the same school. My Aunt Julie teaches at a Catholic school in South Bend, Indiana, and my cousins Jack and Lucy attend Catholic School as well.

As for my grandparents on my father's side (the Koester's), they are devout Catholics too. I've been told that my grandma was preparing to be a nun, when she met my grandpa. My dad and his siblings didn't attend Catholic schools, but they did belong to one of the two Catholic parishes (ward's) in town, St. Mary Parish. When they graduated from high school, my dad, my Uncle Steve, and my Uncle Brian all went the University of Notre Dame, and my Aunt Mary went to the University of Dayton... all Catholic universities. My Aunt Mary is a very devout Catholic, and her kids and husband are as well.

As for me and my siblings, we didn't attend Catholic schools either. We attended attended CCD (Sunday school that was held on Wednesday nights), and we attended mass almost every Sunday at St. Mary's. My mother was a lectern who read the readings during mass, and one of my brothers was an alter attendant for a while. In high school, I was actively involved in my parish's Youth Group, and every summer, I would participate in a weekend of service called YES (Youth Elect Service) with St. Mary's and St. John's (the other parish across town). I also was able to attend NCYC (National Catholic Youth Conference) in Atlanta, GA in 2005... we celebrated mass in the Georgia dome with over 35,000 people present. It was awesome. My brother Joe now attends Marquette University, and my sister Katie has followed in my Dad's footsteps, and attends the University of Notre Dame.

In short, I grew up Catholic like most Utah Mormons grow up LDS.

When I moved to Utah, and was in treatment, my spirituality was strengthened ten-fold. While I was never permitted to attend Church (treatment is a whole other story), I had a rosary that my Grandma Romary sent to me, and I had a bible that I read frequently. I knew that I needed something bigger than myself if I was to survive those 18 months. Most people lose their faith during those months, and for good reason. But mine grew. I'm grateful for that.

When I aged out of treatment as a 19 year old, I enrolled at Southern Utah University and moved into an apartment with 5 other girls, all of whom are LDS. My direct roommate was Bailey. She and I exchanged the usual get-to-know-you questions, and then she asked me if I was a "member". I thought to myself... "A member of what?" When I realized what she meant, I told her that I was Catholic. And that was that. We existed quite harmoniously.

A couple of weeks later, I went to mass at the local Catholic Church, and I was talking to one of the parishioners about college, and just having a normal conversation. They asked me if I had Mormon roommates. I said yes. The tone of the conversation completely changed. She told me to watch myself, and that they were going to try to give me a Book of Mormon, and set me up with the missionaries any day now.

Well... they were right :)

A few days later I came home from class, and when I got to my room, there was a Book of Mormon on my desk. It had a post it note on the front that said, "Just read the front cover, if nothing else. If you have any questions, feel free to ask". I opened the book, and right on the inside, Bailey and another roommate Danelle, had written in a short testimony of the Book of Mormon. I realized that this wasn't something like a quota that they had to meet... They actually meant all of these things. They had genuine testimonies of this book. And that night I read until about 3am... and read all the way into 2Nephi. I couldn't stop. I started because I was inspired by the honesty and courage of my roommates (giving a Book of Mormon to a non-member friend could potentially blow up in your face...). But I continued reading because the Holy Ghost wanted to turn me into an insomniac :)

About a week later, I attended my first Sacrament meeting, and had my first lesson with the missionaries, Elder Lund and Elder Hill. Everything just made sense. I already believed in the concept of eternal families. I already believed that revelation never stopped. I believed in a pre-mortal existence. These were the stepping stones to my "common sense" testimony.

My biggest hangup was the need for a restoration. Catholics can trace their history all the way back to St. Peter. Logically, there wouldn't be a need to restore anything. Elder Hill put it really simply. He compared the Gospel to a mirror. While Christ was on the earth, the mirror was perfect. But when the Niacin Counsel came around, and messed everything up, the mirror was dropped and shattered. Religions have come around, and taken the pretty pieces of the mirror, and left others. He said that even if the Catholic Church picked up every single shard of glass from the mirror, and glued them back together exactly the way they were supposed to be placed, it would still be imperfect. When Joseph Smith came, and asked God what to do, it was as if Heavenly Father was having us throw out the old, broken mirror, and was giving us a brand new, perfect mirror. And that made sense. It still makes sense.

My family wasn't exactly thrilled, because I was leaving the one true faith. Logically, only the Catholic Church, and the LDS Church can truly have any legitimate claims to the "fullness of the Gospel". But for me that made it pretty simple. There was either an apostasy, or there was not. There was either a need for a Restoration, or there was not. It was black and white for me.

At this point, I had read the Book of Mormon, cover to cover. I had received all of the lessons, and discussions. I had been to Church, and I had started to form my "common sense" testimony. I wanted to believe that the missionaries were telling the truth. I wanted to believe that my roommates were all being honest. It was the moment of truth. Is this the true Church? Or am I already in the true Church? It was time to trust God. It was time to put Him to the test. I opened up that Book of Mormon, and read Moroni 10:4-5, "And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost. And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things."

I was pacing around my dorm room. Bailey was gone that weekend, so I had the room to myself. Pacing and pacing. I finally dropped to my knees, in tears (good tears), and asked out loud, "What is right? I've narrowed it down to two. If this is what you want, I will do it! But I need to know. This isn't a joke. This is my eternal salvation! Just tell me!" And immediately, I was filled with warmth, and comfort, and I had chills up and down my spine. I knew. Clear as day. That was the Holy Ghost. And that was my first experience with divine confirmation. I wouldn't have a confirmation again until a few years later, late in 2011 in the Oquirrh Mountain Temple.

When I told the missionaries that I wanted to be baptized (they actually beat me to it... they challenged me before I could open my mouth and say anything), I knew I was gay. I absolutely knew. But the missionaries said that I would be blessed. And the only blessing I could have wanted was to be straight. When I went in for my baptismal interview with the district leader, he asked me the standard question of whether or not I had participated in homosexual activity. I hadn't. And since he did not ask me if I was homosexual, I knew I answered the question honestly. I was baptized April 25, 2009.

Was a converted on that day? Yes and no. I was converted enough... I believed enough. I knew enough. But I was not truly converted until my experience in the temple 19 months ago. I may speak out, and openly disagree with the General Authorities on certain issues. I may interpret scripture, and doctrine differently than you do. I may be a little more liberal than most Mormons (no... I know that I'm more liberal than most Mormons). I may be a little too intellectual and feminist for your taste. I may speak out too aggressively for your taste. That's ok.

I'm converted. I'm in this. I sustain the First Presidency, and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. I sustain the General Relief Society, Young Women, and Primary Presidencies. I sustain the Presiding Bishopric, and Young Men's Presidency. I sustain the First Quorum of the Seventy. I sustain my Bishop and Stake President. I sustain my ward's Elders Quorum President and Relief Society President. I am in this. I'm a Mormon. A gay Mormon. I'm a little unorthodox, and I like it that way. It keeps me on my toes. It keeps me from getting comfortable, and getting stuck in a rut. My testimony is just as valid as anyone else's. My testimony is just as sacred, and just as important.

If anything... It'll keep you from falling asleep in Fast and Testimony meeting. And speaking on behalf of everyone, we all need a good dose of that.

Drowning

How do you cope with the loss of the love of your life? How do you cope with the sudden loss of companionship and intimacy? How do you accept that they left you and fell in love with someone else? How do you do that?

I don't have any of the answers. I'm sure that's a big surprise to all of you, but hey... the truth's the truth. I haven't written about Melissa for a while. I've instead continued to write about the "Gay Mormon Paradox". There's a couple of reasons for it. First, I think the paradox is more important to write about, and has more purpose to my community. But the second reason is what really gets under my skin... I let someone push me around. If any of you know me personally, you know that I am the very last person to let someone walk all over me. But in this case, I laid down at her feet, just to make it easier for her. About a month-ish ago, my friend (though I'm not sure if I'm her friend anymore... I offended her with some sorely needed "unsugared" honesty) told me that I was being, "creepy, sad, and embarrassing" about the situation, and I was exemplifying it by blogging about it. I got self conscious, and I stopped.

Pathetic, I know.

Well I'm starting again. It'll be a little different, because I got a request to write about how I'm coping with the loss of the love of my life... especially with the circumstances in which it happened. And I will happily oblige.

I haven't gotten over her. Plain and simple. I'm sad for her because she's making some poor life and health choices, and it breaks my heart to see her do it. She's moving on, and it breaks my heart, because I'm still in love with someone who has fallen out of love with me.

The thing that hurts the most, is that there's another woman. Melissa still insists that nothing happened between her and Megan before she broke up with me. And it's still possible that she's telling the truth, because I haven't been able to prove it otherwise. But she moved on immediately after our break up. And it eats away at me. She may not have had a physical affair before we broke up, but she absolutely had an emotional one. 

I go back and forth between being sad and being angry. I hate to love her, and I love to hate her. And I love to love her, and hate to hate her. There hasn't been a day that's gone by that I haven't cried. And there hasn't been a day where I haven't been angry. And the anger isn't always directed at Melissa. I hate Megan with every bone in my body. She's a home wrecker, and she has shown absolutely no remorse. She's polishing her trophy, and she doesn't care who she stepped on, and destroyed to achieve it. She's a poor excuse for a woman...

I feel like I can't really move on. I'm still in love with her, and I don't know when that'll change. And because I'm still in love with her, I can't go on honest dates with anyone. And even if I could, I have absolutely no desire to do so. I'm drowning. And they say drowning, and burning to death are the two worst ways to die. Figures.

So I'm not over Melissa. I'm not healed. And I haven't keeled over yet from hyperventilating, or dehydration. Death by drowning is still plausible. It's a poor start, but it's a start right?

Journey To Gay (Part 3)

In December 2011, I was at the Oquirrh Mountain Temple doing baptisms. It's one of my favorite temples in the valley, and it was here, during its open house before its dedication, that I first gained my testimony of the temple. Naturally, it holds a near and dear place in my heart. I was sitting in the area where you wait your turn to go into the font. There were a lot of people there that day... I think it was a Saturday, so I had a while to wait. So I decided to do some praying.

At this time in my life... my mission call had been rescinded only a few months ago. I had moved into a new ward, and I had been given a new temple recommend. I should have been on top of the world, but was instead in a really dark place. The only thing I ever seemed to pray about was my sexual orientation... I swear I had worn out the carpet in my bedroom from pacing and kneeling. And until this day in the temple, I had only prayed for God to take away my attractions for women, because I didn't want them. I took to heart Elder Packer's words from his October 2010 General Conference talk "Cleansing the Inner Vessel", "Some suppose that they were preset, and cannot overcome what they feel are inborn tendencies toward the impure and unnatural. Not so. Why would our Heavenly Father do that to anyone? Remember, He is our Father." (this is the exact transcript from the talk given during General Conference. You can watch the talk, and read the edited talk here.) Because of this talk, I believed that my attractions were somehow a choice... and that somewhere in my soul there was a switch that I could flip, so that my attractions would change, and that I could become sexually attracted to men, instead of women. Sometimes, I would switch my wording, thinking that that would solicit a different answer. I would ask God to give me attractions to just one man. Just one man, and he would be attracted to me, and I to him, and then we could get married, and I would finally be "normal".

That's how I prayed. It's almost masochistic. And every time, I felt the same feeling. Cold. Miserable. Empty. I couldn't understand why. So that day, when I was praying in the temple, I threw up my hands, in quiet desperation, and instead asked like this, "God... is it ok for me to be a lesbian?" And immediately after those words left my "mouth" I had an overwhelming feeling of warmth. Comfort. Assurance. Love. The feeling was identical to the feeling that I had when I first prayed about the Book of Mormon. I was stunned. There was no other emotion. So I asked again, mostly to confirm that I had heard the Spirit correctly. I got the same thing. So I went out on a limb and asked, "God, do you want me to be celibate? Do you want me to be alone?" No. A very clear no. But the Spirit continued... it testified, clear as day, that I needed to get married. That I needed to prepare to have a wife, and to have a family. 

That day, I received a testimony of personal revelation. I didn't really believe that the average, everyday person could receive revelation from God through the Spirit. But that day, I gained a testimony. But more importantly, I received a testimony that I am created just the way I'm supposed to be. That God created me in His image (or should I say in Heavenly Mother's image... but my feminism is for another day). That revelation saved my life.

I want to make it very clear, that I am not claiming to receive revelation for the Church as a whole. No way. That power lies with Thomas S. Monson, the Prophet and President of the Church, and in him alone. But, I do believe that God gave me this piece of personal revelation, because He knew that I needed it. So that I wouldn't leave the Church in frustration (which I had seriously considered). And so I wouldn't feel the need to take my own life. Because for a while, I genuinely thought that it would be more pleasing to God, to have me dead in a box in the ground, with my virtue still intact, than to continue in this life living dishonorably, and unworthily. Because I still believed, that regardless if I stayed chaste and celibate in my life, I would still be considered less worthy than the straight, married woman with 5 kids, at the day of Judgement. 

I'm not alone in my thinking. While I am no longer in that state of mind, because I have finally come to accept myself for who I am, there are countless young LGBT Mormons who are going through this line of thinking. Too high of a percentage of them end up attempting to take their own lives, and too many of them succeed. We are losing my generation of Mormons, because they believe that they have no place in this Church... they believe that God would love them more if they died, instead of living a full and meaningful life. 

I want to make a difference in the Church. I want to make a difference in my community. I want to help. I want to be a resource of Christ-like love, and acceptance. Because the only "tolerance trap" that exists on this earth, is to believe that people only deserve our "at arms reach" tolerance. People deserve so much more. You deserve it. I deserve it. Your sons and daughters, deserve it. Your brothers and sisters deserve it. The young woman in your ward, the neighbors down the street, the kid in your history class... they all deserve it. 

Love one another. Treat others as you want to be treated. These are principles that every person, from any faith or walk of life can embrace.

One Small Step For Man, One Giant Leap For Mankind

Today the Supreme Court of the United States struck down key parts of the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA), and dismissed an appeal over California's Proposition 8, paving the way for same-sex marriage to resume. We took a major step in the right direction as a nation to stop morally based discrimination in our nation's laws.

Some people in this country oppose same-sex marriage based on a religiously influenced moral compass. (Or you just think it's "icky"). And that's OK. No one has to agree with everyone about people's personal moral opinions. When DOMA was argued in the U.S. House of Representatives in 1996, the purpose of the law was to express "both moral disapproval of homosexuality, and a moral conviction that heterosexuality better comports with traditional (especially Judeo-Christian) morality." The stated purpose of the law was to promote an "interest in protecting the traditional moral teachings reflected in heterosexual-only marriage laws." Were there any doubt of this far-reaching purpose, the title of the Act confirms it: The Defense of Marriage.

But I truly believe that the opinion of the Court is absolutely correct in saying that the Court can not uphold laws that are discriminatory based on a Judeo-Christian morality. While the vast majority of this nation is Christian (as am I), we must make clear that religiously/morally motivated laws that discriminate against people in this great nation, is not OK.

If you don't want to have a gay marriage, you don't have to have one. If you want to believe that "God Hates Fags", fine... you're protected by your First Amendment rights of Freedom of Religion and Freedom of Speech. But allow me my Fourteenth Amendment right of equal protection under the law.

This is what I posted on Facebook this afternoon, upon hearing about the SCOTUS decisions, and educating myself on them (no one likes to look like an idiot because they were uninformed about something). In the last 4 hours, I've been called subversive, an apostate, and have been told that I should leave the Church since, I obviously have no intentions of repenting of my sinful nature and behavior.

Just to name a few.

Sometimes it really sucks to be Mormon and gay. And a feminist. And an intellectual. And gay in general. Our Constitution has liberated the slaves, empowered women by granting them the right to vote. Its now protecting another minority group from suppression. All over my Facebook feed are conservative rants about how the Second Coming is at our doorstep... and that God will come to judge America with fire and brimstone for her sins. Some people even asserting that the Justices are just plain wrong.

Since, of course, these friends of mine are experts on Constitutional Law like the Justices are...

The 12th Article of Faith says that as members of Christ's Church, we sustain the law of the land. The 9th Article of Faith says that we believe that God has yet to reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God. Doctrine and Covenants 134:4 says that men are entitled to the practice of their religious opinions, so long as their opinions do not infringe upon the rights of others (and the other way around). Doctrine and Covenants 134:9 says that the Church does not believe it to be right to mingle religious influence with civil government.

But the members (and leadership) seem to have forgotten this.

Let me reemphasize that I am a believing member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I love the Gospel. I love my Heavenly Father, and I know that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. I am asking anyone who reads this, to take very seriously the words of our Savior: Love one another.

A Most Pleasant Surprise

After posting my "coming out" story, I've had a lot of good reception. I have yet to have someone call me a degenerate, or sinner, or whatever. Which is a relief. For the most part, I've had people thank me for telling my story, because we change hearts and minds by showing people that we are just like everyone else.

But today, I had a pleasant surprise.

Katie Seibert was my "arch-nemesis" growing up in school. She was one of the popular kids. And while I had plenty of friends, I certainly was not a stereotypical "popular kid". If you would've asked me 6 years ago if Katie was my friend, or if I was Katie's friend, I would have laughed openly in your face.

Today, I opened my computer at work, and logged onto Facebook for a little bit, and I heard the little *ding* that tells me that someone had sent me a message. It was Kait. She had read my blog, and was apologizing for how she treated me in school. My heart warmed at what I was reading. I had never heard a more sincere statement in my life. She felt bad for making me feel different.

I forgave her. Not because I had been mad at her, or that she had hurt me, or even that what she did was wrong, but deserved to hear it from me. She reached out to me, and was humble enough to say that she had done something wrong, and she deserves that from me. And I wanted to give it to her. It also turned out that we have so much more in common than we ever would've thought 6 years ago. We talked about our lives since high school, and I think that we might be friends now... like real life friends.

I can't begin to tell you how much it means to me. Having her come to me and want to reconcile differences, gives me hope that one day, I will have that reconciliation with my parents and my siblings. She's not the only one who has come to me, and wanted to be friends again... Kait, Sophie and Anthony have been the most recent, and I've still retained friends from high school who saw me for who I was, and not how I acted. It gives me hope that my family will come around. But until then, its one person at a time. And I'm ok with that.

Journey To Gay (Part 2)

When I started writing this, I intended it to be in just one post. But after looking at how long it got, I decided to split it in two.

When I moved to Utah at age 17, I was going through some major therapy (as to why is a whole other story). It was a good and bad experience, but honestly, I do not look back on it fondly. It destroyed my self esteem, I learned that I was wrong about just about everything, and right about virtually nothing. My mother, with whom I've never had a good relationship with, would not write letters to me, or speak on the phone. Our relationship never recovered. Nor did my relationship with the rest of my family.

But it was here, at my lowest point in life, that I finally recognized what I was. I finally recognized that I was gay. I craved an emotional, physical, and sexual connection to women... Not men. And it scared me, because at the time, I had a very conservative therapist, who I already did not like, or trust, so how could I possibly tell her my biggest secret? I remember the entire experience felt like a fight or flight... I simply had to survive. And there was no way in hell that I was going to tell her something that could potentially lengthen my stay. No way.

After that experience, I was released from my cage, and into the world of college. I was at Southern Utah University which is in no way a big school, or a party school, but it felt that way to me! I had 5 roommates in the dorm, and every single one of them is Mormon. Here is where my Mormon experience starts. I read the Book of Mormon, and I had the lessons with the missionaries. This was the first time that I had heard anything about homosexuality not being ok. And the Elders did a fantastic job at explaining it... They said nothing bad about gay people, or that they were damned to hell. They simply explained the Law of Chastity, that sexual relations were only allowed in marriage, and that marriage was between a man and a woman only. At this point, I was beginning to form a testimony, and I wasn't going to question it... This was the first time that I had ever felt the Spirit like that. And it felt right, and true. 

As I gained a testimony of the Book of Mormon, I read passages about God healing afflictions, and that He will bless me. I believed that, and I still do. But I foolishly thought that I could be fixed. Wrong. In my baptismal interview I was asked about homosexual activity, not feelings. So I answered his questions honestly. I got baptized and was on top of the world. I was happy.

I continued to date men... And no one really was able to fit the bill for me. One guy, Mike, came the closest... Still no fireworks and earthquakes when I kissed him (like I later would experience with women). But it was something. To this day, he's the only man I could seriously consider, but even then, I wouldn't be as happy as I know that I could be.

And then, in my last year living in Cedar City, my roommate Missy kissed me, and we formed a mini relationship. I was on fire... I never stopped wanting to feel her lips on mine. But wait! This is wrong! Dirty! Abominable! This is the same year that Elder Boyd K. Packer gave his infamous talk titled "Cleansing the Inner Vessel." I was terrified. And so was she. She "broke up" with me, and told me months later that if she or any of her friends see me, they'd beat the shit out of me. Naturally, I never again tried to contact her. 

This is where I tried to serve a mission, and it failed, because I told my bishop that I was gay. He was the first one I told... Needless to say, I didn't tell another bishop for a while. I went back into the closet. Dated another guy named Zac. And he's amazing... Just not for me. Reason? He has a penis. But... He will make a girl so happy one day :) He was the last guy I dated.

My boss at the time was my saving grae. Melanie is a lesbian, and grew up LDS, so she knew the dynamic I was struggling with. She was the first person that I had truly come out to. The first person who heard me say, "______, I'm gay." She helped me realize that I wasn't alone, and that there was nothing wrong with me. She was the missing piece in the puzzle for my self confidence.

I started dating a girl named Jamie. She was kind, and smart, but she had completely left the Church, and wanted different things for our lives. And it was difficult, but in the end it was for the best.

That's when I came out to my roommates... I couldn't stand being set up anymore, or them asking about my dating life. I told them, and at first it was alright, but after a while they turned really Molly Mormon about everything, and started insisting that I go to church with them, which was anything but what I wanted to do. I finally caved and went. 

That eventually proved to not be enough and they encouraged me to speak to the bishop. I scheduled a meeting and told him that I was gay... I didn't tell him about anything that I had done, just came out. He wasn't hostile about it, but he wasn't inviting either. He recommended articles that were "less than compassionate", and absolutely refused to refer to me as a lesbian, using instead the term same sex attracted. And I hate that more than anything else. The one good thing that came out of those meetings was a recommend to receive my patriarchal blessing.

It was around this time that I met Melissa and until 2 weeks ago, I was the happiest woman alive. I knew that I was finally being true to myself. I was being authentic. I wasn't hiding anymore. I was free.

Continue to Part 3

Journey to Gay (Part 1)

I have been trying to figure out what to write about next... I'm on a roll, so I might as well keep the ball rolling right?

So I thought about it, and I have never really told people (other than Melissa and a few others) how I came to know that I was gay. Hell... I barely know how I finally realized I was gay, because I had buried it so deep inside the depths of my mind. While I was writing this, I found that it had gotten quite long. So I split it into two parts. 

So here goes nothing I suppose...

I'm the oldest of 5 kids. I don't think that made any difference in who I turned out to be (sexuality wise that is). But even as a little girl there were little things that were different about me, all of which prove to me that I was gay from the moment I left the womb. The one that sticks out is how I would play House with my friends Marissa and Taylor. Every single time, without fail, I wanted to be the boy, or be the soldier. I also remember helping my Uncle Jim wash the car... I was probably only 5... But I remember asking him why I couldn't take my shirt off like him. I even tried to pee standing up when I was 6 or 7 years old. These three examples make it sound like I might have been having some gender identity issues, and maybe I was; I don't know. By themselves, they could be isolated incidents and not amount to anything. But for me, in hindsight, they were things that early on defined who I was as a little girl. And I wasn't normal.

Getting into adolescence, I was awkward... Everyone was, but I was especially. I started my period young... I was only in the 6th grade. I didn't care about wearing make up, and I loved to play football and baseball with the boys. I had many boys as friends, and girls, but it was the girls that I wanted to pay attention to me... And I went to great lengths to get that attention, and the attempts weren't always healthy. I remember having one boyfriend, Jonathon. We were friends and I remember him and his mom taking me to one of the first Harry Potter movies, and I drew a lightning bolt on his forehead. :)

In high school it was much the same... I played the trumpet (a very "boy" instrument), and played soccer and softball. (Stereotypical lesbian sports). I kissed a lot of boys in this period. A LOT of boys. And there were some that were bad. Just awful. But most of them were "eh". Not bad, not good. So I couldn't really make any judgement on whether or not I liked to kiss boys, because I simply didn't care. I didn't care about catching boy's attentions. I never had a problem with dressing immodestly. In fact it was everything my mother could do to get me to wear something other than jeans, t-shirts, hoodies, and sweats. I still didn't wear makeup, and I still didn't like the "girly" things like shopping, jewelry, and shoes.

I was angry though. I acted out. I was "defiant" (get it? I was defiant in Defiance, Ohio... ok, bad joke...) I did everything I could to piss my parents off. I stopped caring about school, I was causing trouble in the family and with my friends. There was something going on. But I didn't know what it was behind it, and neither did my parents.

I didn't grow up LDS, I grew up a devout Catholic. I never heard my parents speak badly about homosexuality. In fact, I never heard them talk about it at all. I never had a religion class (CCD, or Youth Group) or teacher that ever talked badly about homosexuality, or gay people. Nor do I remember ever hearing a sermon in church about it. (In hindsight, I would've been surprised to hear one. St. Mary's was a pretty liberal parish, and our priest, Father Tim was the most loving, Christ-like man I have ever known.) So I didn't have religion telling me it was bad, and my parents weren't threatening to kick any of us kids out of the house if they turned out to be gay. And I was friends with two kids at school who were gay, Mathis and Sophie. Their sexual orientation didn't matter to me. So why didn't I realize that I was gay? And why did I innately feel and know that it was wrong and something to keep to yourself?

Continue to Part 2

Limbo, Limbo

•Disclaimer! I've been asked to delete this post. I'm the spirit of transparency, I will be editing the parts that were asked to be deleted•

I'm stuck in limbo. Treading water. I have nowhere to go. I have over a month until my new job starts; I have no money until I get my first check from the new job; and until I have money, I'm chained to this spot, unable to move. Which means I'm chained to Melissa whether or not I want to be.

Part of me just wants to throw up my hands and say, "Screw you and that woman," and leave and never look back. Because if they do stay together, and try to make a go at it, they're doomed. Like a new friend told me, they're fighting a two front battle... Melissa is pursuing a woman who has no problem wooing, seducing, and having affairs with married/committed women, and Megan is pursuing a woman who has no problem dropping a committed, long term relationship when things start to get "boring" or "too vanilla". Instead of filling the car back up with gas, giving it a tune up and just a little TLC, she decides to scrap it and buy a new one...

And yet, the other part of me is still head over heels in love with her, regardless of all the pain and anguish she's put me through this last week and a half. I never lost that spark for her. I never lost interest, I never stopped being attracted to her, and I never stopped loving her. She was my everything. My heart and soul. Simple as that. I would still take her back. If she comes home from this "honeymoon" and tells me that she's sorry, and that she'd never do it again... I'd still take her back.

And yes I know that its crazy, and that I'd be setting myself up for failure, and pain.

Tomorrow would've been our one year anniversary. We were laying in the grass of my front lawn, just talking and having fun. Once it got dark, I leaned over, and asked her if I could kiss her, and we made out. For a while. And then she asked me to be her girlfriend. And that was that. I'm thankful that I'm going to be working tomorrow... because it'll force me to get out of bed, and be productive like a normal human being. But I know that all I'm going to want to do is lay in bed all day.

I've been trying to reach out to the scriptures and anything really to make this easier. But nothing really helps. Maybe I'm just reading in all the wrong places. Maybe I'm not searching with a broken heart and a contrite spirit. Maybe I'm just too hurt and upset to be able to pull anything out of it. I don't know. But it is discouraging... if I can't find any comfort or relief from the scriptures, then where the hell can I find it?

Are Y'all Getting Sick Of Me Yet?

I know I'm posting a lot. And I'm sure y'all are getting really annoyed with it. I can understand... I'm ranting and raving, and feeling sorry for myself. I get it. But I do better when I get all the venom out of me, so that when I do bite, it only stings for a little bit, instead of slowly poisoning you to death.

Tonight is the first night where I have slept alone... And I haven't slept alone for about 10 months now. I don't know how to sleep without a warm body next to me. I have Melissa's dog Maggie, which helps, and she's being so good curled up next to me. But it's not the same. Nothing's the same. 

I'm alone. And not just in my bed tonight, but in the world. I am alone. I don't have family. I don't have a ward in Church. I don't have anyone. Normally it doesn't bother me to be this alone, because its been this way for so long. But then I met Melissa, and everything changed for me. I was happy again. I was putting down roots. Everything came together. 

Until it fell apart.

Hopefully Maggie won't mind if I kiss the top of her head all night...

Joke Was On Me All Along...

Truth's out... Melissa had an affair. Complete with saucy text messages about how much they love each other, and plenty of other things that make me want to be sick. The drives to "clear her head" while we were breaking up, turned out to be engineered to go out and see her. The "innocent" kiss at Pride turned out to be not-so-innocent (The Pride Festival and Parade happened before Melissa and I broke up... we didn't break up for 4 more days). And all along through the break up, when I asked her directly if she was seeing and/or kissing Megan, I consistently got "no" as an answer. Even after I confronted her with the evidence. But yet again... It was a lie disguised as her "not wanting to hurt me anymore than she already has". Have they had sex? She says not yet... But they're in Heber this weekend, and I'm sure it's happened by now...

I was surprisingly calm when I found everything out in the early hours of Thursday morning... But knowing that I was cheated on really puts a wrench into me being cool, calm, and collected.

What I can't understand is how Megan has one bit of compassion or a conscience. She knew that Melissa was in love with me. She knew that she was engaged. Engaged to be MARRIED! Yet, she still pursued her, flirted with her, and seduced her. How does someone have no conscience about going after a "married" woman? There were emails where Melissa says she feels bad for hurting me, and Megan's response is, "You aren't a horrible person." I'm sorry, but she broke off our engagement because she had an affair. With you. You both should feel terrible. I think that Melissa does... But I think Megan is simply polishing her trophy, and not giving a damn who she stepped on and hurt to get to it.

I finally understand why people blame themselves when they're partner/spouse cheats and has an affair. I keep thinking about where Melissa and I would be if she didn't work at L's (where she met Megan). Or if I could've done something better... 

It's one thing for people to get cold feet in their relationship, especially when it's getting serious. It's pretty healthy to take a step back and re-evaluate what you want in your life. And that was what she told me in the beginning. 

In the waning days of our relationship, I noticed Melissa pulling away from me. I thought that she might not be attracted to me anymore. Whenever I'd touch her, or kiss her forehead, she always reacted like she didn't want me to touch her. When I asked her what was wrong she said nothing. I even asked her specifically, and she still said no... And she would say it in the most loving and affectionate way. But in reality, she was no longer attracted to me, and instead was attracted to that woman. Joke's on me. I had the wool pulled over my eyes, and was completely oblivious to what was going on under my nose.

I feel so pathetic.

Where Do I Go From Here

With the recent deterioration of my engagement, my life has kind of hit neutral. I can't move backwards, and I can't move forward. I put all my eggs in one basket, because I honestly believed that we would be together forever. And now, I'm trapped in open water.

I don't know what to do. It's WAY too early for me to get back into the dating ring, and start thinking about another relationship. I can't take a break and get out of the city for a few days because I don't have any money. It's June, and there's no snow, so I can't just jump on the tram and lose myself in the mountains. I can't really do anything. I'm treading water.

And the one and only thing that I do want to do is play Halo and destroy everything. But my Xbox 360 has a major overheating problem, and nothing I've done to fix it has worked. And I've been trying to call places around town that repairs Xbox 360's, and not ONE has answered their phones in their declared business hours. And of all of them, only one had an answering machine, but I was unable to leave a message, because their voicemail was full. Which means they don't check it. I'm annoyed. And I swear the universe is out to get me. I just wanna shoot aliens... 

It's Been Swell

I met Melissa in May 2012. We started dating June 17, 2012, I told her that I loved her July 26th, and she asked me to marry her on November 4, 2012. June 10, 2013 she called it quits. I'm not going to pretend like I'm doing ok... Because I'm not. My heart is shattered and I feel like I'll never be happy again. (Where's my Patronus when I need it?) But here's to another door opening. Here's to living one day at a time.

We are still living together. Mostly we're too broke to afford to move out. And aside from being my girlfriend, she was my best friend. I don't want to cut her out  of my life. Because if I cut her out, then there's no one else left (My immediate family and I mutually evicted each other from our lives). 

But it's hard to not look at her like my girlfriend. I can't look at her with "roommate eyes" yet. I can't stop calling her "baby", "dear(est)", and "love"... Because we rarely used our first names in casual conversation with each other. It feels artificial, and fake. 

But it's not.

She's started flirting with (and possibly had started dating) a girl that she works with at Lowes... Megan. She's has had a crush on Melissa from the beginning. When they first started being friends, Melissa asked me if it was ok that they text, and hang out. Naturally, I said yes, because fully I trusted her. I told her that it was fine with me as long as the relationship stays appropriate. Joke's on me I guess.

I don't know who to reach out to... I don't have a lot of close friends anymore, because I caught the "married and boring" bug. I spent my free time with Melissa and few others. So it's going to be interesting.

Anyone in need of a sad, and pathetic friend?

It's gonna be rough going. It's going to suck. But, all in all, it'll be ok. It gets better, right?

Pride 2013

This weekend I had the privilege to march in the Utah Pride Festival's Pride Parade with a group called Mormons Building Bridges. MBB is a group of Mormons from all walks of life, all political affiliations, and all levels of active ness in the Church. But the one thing we all have in common, is love and acceptance for our LGBT family members, neighbors, and coworkers.

As I am still a believing Mormon, and an outspoken lesbian, I couldn't think of anyone better to march with, for my very first Pride Festival and Parade.

The experience was overwhelmingly positive, and loving. I marched so that people could see that one can be gay and Mormon. Or gay and religious in general. I marched so that I could help. But it was the people who lined the streets that helped me instead.

There were about 400-500 of us, which made us one of the largest participants (if not the largest). All dressed up in our Sunday best, and holding signs that have Family names, and Scripture passages, we held an opening prayer, and then we were off. I had barely walked for a half of a block, before I saw an older woman crying uncontrollably. As I got closer to her, I could see a CTR ring on her finger. I gave her the most heart-felt hug I could muster, as she choked back tears, and told me how thankful she was that we were there, and how much it meant to her. 

That's when I knew that this wouldn't be a normal parade.

As we marched, the streets were lined with people cheering, and clapping for us. Many people expressed their thanks, and appreciation. I gave many high fives, handshakes, and more hugs. I also got to see friends along the route, which made the experience that much more special.

Close to the end of the route, a young woman around my age came up to me, weeping. She gave me a hug, and then asked me if she could still have a relationship with God, even though she was gay. In those 30 seconds or so, I was able to bear my testimony of the Savior's love for us, and I instinctively recited this quote, "No matter who you are, or what you may have done, you can always pray." I have her one last hug, and a smile and I ran to catch up to the group.

When I got home, I looked up the quote, as I didn't know who said it. I was unbelievably surprised when I saw that I had quoted Elder Boyd K. Packer. After all of the discouraging, and down right hurtful things Elder Packer has said concerning people who are gay, I was so pleased to be able to offer his words as a comfort for this wonderful lesbian. It sure was fitting, and blissfully ironic.

My testimony grew. My heart grew. This parade spiritually uplifted me more than any other event in my life with the exception of my baptism. I encourage anyone who wants to be involved for next years parade, to do it. It was unbelievable.