Coming Out On Facebook

I'm planning to post this as a facebook note tomorrow, along with changing my "interested in" to "Men". Mind you, anyone who knows me and follows me on facebook has got to know by now, but I really want to clear the air and make official on my one year anniversary. Let me know what you think, or suggest additions/subtractions/rewordings.

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Twenty-three years ago today, I was born in Springville, UT. And humorously, was also the last time I'd ever be inside a vagina.

Yup, I'm gay.

I hope that made you laugh, because being gay has been a source of far too much anguish in the past. So yeah, about the past. What's the deal?

One year ago, I came out to my brother David and my sister Sarah, in an e-mail prior to meeting with them in Las Vegas for my 22nd birthday. From that point on, I began sharing this long hidden aspect of my personality with the rest of my family and friends. I began to earnestly seek to know myself--for the first time.

What I discovered is that I had spent my entire adolescent life running and fighting myself. After church one Sunday, in my junior year of college, I almost stepped off a subway platform in front of a Red Line train because I was in so much pain from hiding, knowing I'd never be free from this "affliction".

But after that brush with death, I started to ask myself--is this really right? Does God really want me to live this way? Constantly at war with myself, fighting tooth and nail, white-knuckling through life alone?

The answer, of course, is no.

This past year has been an incredible journey, and I still have so much to discover and learn about myself, my faith, and my future. I've got a lot of forgiving to do and a lot more work to undo the years of self punishment I needlessly endured.

To most of you, this will come as no surprise--if you pay attention to the groups I support and the articles I post, it is obvious. However, I wanted to take a moment on this one year anniversary and express it officially. I know now that being gay is actually a blessing--I'm being constantly challenged to learn and open my heart. And in my journey of self-discovery and authenticity, I've met dozens of fantastic friends who have enriched my life in ways I can't even express.

One year later. Finally out. Finally truthful. And finally free.

"One year older and wiser, too.
Happy Birthday to you.[1]"

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Thoughts? Too brief? Too detailed? Just right?

June 28th, 2007

Dear Journal,

I’m not sure yet. This could be the day that you start making real progress towards heterosexuality—or it could be a day where you’ll look back and regret it. Today I told my Dad that I am struggling with same-sex attraction. Homosexuality.

I honestly can’t believe that I told him. I bought this book on Amazon.com called “Coming Out Straight” by Richard Cohen, and I think it has helped me realize that I may have a chance to change. According to the book, there are many factors that can lead someone into SSA. I have a lot of them, and it really hit home.

When I told Dad, I cried and muttered along, trying to talk through the tears, and we held hands, he just let me get it all out before even speaking, and then he thanked me for trusting him enough to talk to him.

Then we stood and hugged, and I cried on his shoulder as he held me. I sobbed into his chest for a long time, but it wasn’t enough. Richard Cohen was right—touch/attachment therapy between father and son is important. I never wanted to let go. I’ve probably not cried in the presence of my father for 10 years. I’ve probably not been held like that since I was a child and it felt good, like I finally had a Dad. I’m not cured, and I’m not healed, but if anyone can help me, it’s probably him, since he’s the cause (direct or indirect) of most of these potential factors. He’s also good at emotional healing work. So maybe, with God’s help, the Bishop, Evergreen, myself, maybe Dan (if I get the courage to ask him to help) I might be able to melt the pain in my heart that has caused these attractions. I’m scared of what is ahead, but I am grateful to be moving away from the darkness and into the light. There is SO much work to be done—I have such low self-esteem and confidence around men, poor body image, fear of women, inadequacy issues and who knows what else is hiding in my subconscious.

It’s funny. I have been asking God for a friend for the last few weeks, projecting developing a healthy friendship with someone, and maybe I’m supposed to heal and become friends with myself and my Dad. Could be?

There are so many thoughts whirling around in my head. Dad says he will do whatever he can to support me, maybe he can. We may do hormonal therapy, flower essences, emotional healing, and who knows what else. I want to become a real man with confidence, self-worth, and respect, and a deep belief that I am a child of God and he loves me as I am—I don’t have to please anyone else.

Dad says he loves me and wants me to know that I shouldn’t feel guilty for the way I feel. And that he feels change is possible, though even if I stay a homosexual, I’d still have his love and support and it wouldn’t change a thing between us.

I really wish I knew what he’s been thinking about all day. Is he even thinking about it. I want to cry in his arms again.

I feel alone again.

Mom does not know and probably will not know about it until I am done with it (or close to it.)

I love my Mom, but I know (or at least I think I know) that her maturity level is not sufficient to be able to handle that kind of news appropriately. She’d get upset and cry and try to “pray the gay away”. But I already know that doesn’t work.

Sarah would be of the belief that I cannot change it and should accept it, and I’m not sure what Katie and David would think of it. Most of my friends feel the same way about SSA (that you can’t change it). I refuse to accept this because I know God places no burden upon us that we cannot carry—and I can’t carry these thoughts and feelings anymore.

Nothing has even been done yet, but already I have fears and doubts about this. Will the pain and suffering I dredge up be effective and heal me? Or will I be a more well-adjusted homosexual?

All of these fears and frustrations (sexual and mental) are being stacked on top of the lonely-ness of being here in the desert without any friends. Stacked on top of the boring, unfulfilling work I do, the hours of editing crappy footage for J-Sasseville. Stacked on top of my inability to settle or be happy with a film idea and move forward in pre-production. Stacked on top of my concerns about money.

Welcome to adulthood, Ezra.

I’m writing this with my right hand. I need love and I need to get in touch with a very angry little boy who needs healing. I’m looking for a positive, happy relationship. Dad, I need your help. Help me. Help me. Feel me, touch me, heal me.

Sorry if that’s nonsense, I just felt like trying that.

So God, here’s a list (which isn’t all inclusive nor nessicerily complete) of experiences I’d like to have and relationships I want.

-I want to have a family. As much as it is scary, because of my current feelings of inadequacy, I still want to experience the joys (and pains) of fatherhood. Please let me be a good father to a few of your spirit children, heavenly father. I would do my best to rear them in love and respect, with a firm foundation that I will never judge them and they can always talk to me.

An important part of this is to have a wife who loves me for who I really am. A woman who is physically attractive would be a wonderful experience, and if she could be supportive of me and the family, creative and spontaneous, a good homemaker, I will have to think more about this as I’ve never given this much thought. If she is not Mormon I need to come to terms with marrying outside the church, but preferably she should be Mormon. If the love is strong and the woman can accept me even having not gone on a mission, she should be smart and sound minded, but also be in touch with the guidance of the spirit so we can impart good wisdom and love to our kids.

God, I know thou can do anything, and that thou doest it be your timetable and as I further identify what I truly would like to experience in this life you will provide me with strength and understanding (of others and myself.) I realize I have a lot of forgiving of myself to do, and healing with my family, and I ask for special help with this as I have a tendency to worry and feel afraid and hold onto pain and punish myself for slipping up when I should just repent, forgive myself and move on. Thank you. I ask these blessings in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Gutted

A fire burned down my old ward building back in Cambridge, MA today.
This building was my ward for 3.5 years as I attended Emerson College. Bishop O. of the University Ward saved my life by telling exactly what I needed to hear when I came to him ready to take my own life because of the crushing weight of my self hatred and shame. And now, this is all thats left. A memory, hazy with smoke.

Gutted.

Just like my faith.

A Super Gay Sunday

So here's my long version of my teaser post from monday.

I'm been working A LOT this past week or so, (yesterday I worked 19 hours!) so I've let blogging fall by the way-side.  It also doesn't help that I don't have internet at home--though now that I think about it I could have written a post offline and then brought it in to work to post instead.

But I have some downtime while I'm waiting for a tape, so here's the deal on what I'm calling my "Super Gay Sunday".

The day started off with me waking and making a "Funfetti" cake for my roommate's girlfriend.  It was her 22nd birthday, and I wanted to do something nice for her, to dispel any remaining idea that I don't like her or don't approve of her.  Early on in their relationship, I think I was a bit stand-offish because they seemed to me to be a bad match... but with time I've come around to see that they actually are a great couple.

In addition to the cake, I went to the grocery store and bought a bushel of balloons.  While the girl filled them, she asked me "are these for a boy or a girl?" which I like to think was a creative way of asking me if I was gay--so I told her the story about my roommate's girlfriend, and that as a gay man I don't have a girl, or a guy, for that matter, to give balloons too.  She was really friendly and assured me that it just takes time.  She seemed suprised that I was only 22...

Anyway, while the cake baked, I wrote to a strictly platonic craigslist ad for a guy looking for a "witty, dry sense of humor conversationalist".  I thought that was intriguing, so I e-mailed, and we sent a few messages back and forth, before it was time for me to head down to Lawndale CA for my lunch with Spencer.  So I asked him to call me while I drove, and he did.

So we talked about this that and the other until I got to Lawndale.  An enjoyable time, but I had to say goodbye when I arrived at Spencer's house.

Most of you know, from my post "Another Amazing Happenstance" that Spencer is the guy I met on OKcupid who's best friend caused me so much angst when he rejected my invitation to get to know me.

Well, after essentially standing him up this Tuesday because I got stuck at work, I readily agreed to reschedule our meet-up for a Sunday lunch.

Now, a funny thing about Spencer is that he's 6'8".  Now, I know this, and was fully expecting tall--but when I knocked on his door (not realizing that there was a step up to get into the front door) and he answered, I was literally taken aback.  He was a good 14 inches higher than me as a result of the extra step... it was pretty crazy.

Anyway, after the initial surprise wore off, we headed towards Hermosa Pier, and decided on a Greek Tapas place.  SO GOOD.  We ordered a bunch of little dishes and ate and talked.  Spencer is so much like me it's not even funny.  I observed the language that he used, the playful and friendly manner in which he addressed the waitstaff, and was just happy.  He playfully chided me for standing him up, and at one point said "Jesus Christ" and then said "I should have said Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints", directly referencing one of my initial reasons for writing him in the first place.  His memory of the little details made me happy--he made me feel like he was glad to be spending time with me--I was certainly happy to be spending time with him.

I'd brought along a rather challenging puzzle-based Geocache for us to do after dinner. (Click the link if you wanna see what I mean--it's a puzzle requiring you to solve a number grid and then use the solution as your "road map"--looping you around through "senic" Lawndale, CA).  Spencer apparently loves puzzles, so he was very excited to solve it.  This made me happy, because so many people are sort of blase about Geocaching, and it's something I think is totally awesome.

The bummer part of this story is that he's moving to Sacramento in mid-may, and so the whole time we're hanging out, I realize that there's a good chance I'll never see him again.

The cache is in this picture... can you spot it?

The cache is that pipe of conduit bolted the the pole!!!  It was so cool I was practically giddy with delight.  I hope I didn't seem crazy--but I was thrilled!

Well, I dropped Spencer off at home so he could get to work.  I drove home, thinking about the fun time I'd just had, and bumming out that it wouldn't happen again, most likely, before the move.

So in an attempt to distract myself from loneliness, I called the craigslist guy and asked if he wanted to hang out and maybe go to a park and walk around or something.  So I picked him up and we went to Woodley Park and visited the Sepulveda Dam. (below)

This dam is awesome, and since it's for flood control, it's always a blast to visit and run up the dry spillways.  Stephen was a nice enough kid, but there wasn't any chemistry, and the difference in how I felt and spoke around him and how I felt and spoke around Spencer was like night and day.

So I dropped Stephen back at home after the park, fully intending to never speak to him again, because with my extremely limited free time, I've got people who I care about a lot more (like friends) than to hang out with someone I'm "meh" about.

Anyway, I got home and decided to call my friend Brandon B, who is the first guy I ever dated. (Granted it was just a coffee date.) and asked if he wanted to grab dinner.  He obliged, and we met at Bossa Nova on Sunset Blvd.  We chatted and caught up, and somehow he suggested that we go to WeHo together and visit a gay club--so we did!  Now granted, we went very tame, and it was a Sunday night, but all told, it was a very interesting experience to see men in such numbers holding, kissing, laughing and talking.  I mostly just stood chatting with Brandon and absorbing the vibe.

Oh, and a forty year old drunk man talked to me and Brandon for a while, extending the generous but undesired offer of his cock to suck.  He also groped my man boob and kissed my neck.  Suprisingly, I was not threatened by this, and was more amused than anything else.

Anyway, I finally took that step and got over that fear, and it wasn't a big deal.  I also had a sip of Vodka Tonic, when Brandon offered me to taste.  It tasted like NyQuil... there was little temptation to drink more.

That night, after all visiting the clubs, I returned to my home at 2am, overly weary (big mistake) for the intense week we had ahead of us at work.  But I hoped online and found that Spencer had invited me to his going away party in WeHo in a couple weeks.  Well, it made me glad that I'd gone to get over the fear so that I can say yes to his invitation.

The other funny thing, is that Spencer's friend Brandon, the editor friend, who I blogged about getting rejected by in my "Creepy Stalker" post, will be there... so he'll get to see exactly how awesome of a guy he ignored!

Anyway, today's been super hard, so I'm going to pass out--I've had a cap of NyQuil and I'm hoping that this is coherant when I read it back tomorrow.

Oh, and I have a date for this weekend.  He seems nice, and pretty cute, but not sure if he'll be my type---more on that when it goes down. Night!

And There's The Problem...

So it's official. I'm not gay enough.

I'm in the Castro blogging from my phone. A little while ago I had lunch at a little restaurant here called "home". They had an amazing meatloaf sandwich that knocked my socks off. But I digress.

When I got my check, I asked my (gay) waiter what I should do or what was a must see. He directed my that if I as going up towards this one area that there were a bunch of bars and strips clubs "like I think there's a Hustler strip club up there.". Yeah then I directly asked what to see and do in re Castro and I got told to check out the Castro theater because they show classic films.

So even in the heart of the Castro people don't even ask if I'm gay because it's apparenty not even in doubt. Now granted, I realize that maybe he just wanted to air on the safe side, assuming that straight people can get offended when their sexuality is questioned, and many gay men would be merely amused or flattered by the assumption that on is straight. But still.

I do not feel like I fit in in any community anymore. I'm pretty much done with
Mormonism and I'm still not comfortable with myself and don't identify with the gay community. I feel sick to my stomach.

Anyway, Mortified is tonight and if I'm lucky someone will invite me out with their group so I don't feel like a total loner lamo.

I feel like in many ways I like the person I was when I was in the closet a lot better. I feel less confident and more reserved an shy than ever. Sigh whatever I just am really lost.

Sad Strangers

Yesterday I was driving home from the gym, talking on my (wired!) headset to my sister in Maine.  We try to talk at least once a week.  When I was about 2/3rds of the way home, I received a text message from Andrew, a college friend who I'd committed to pick up at the airport.

Blast! I felt silly having been heading in the wrong direction for that whole time.

(I'm not going to turn this post into a commentary on that last sentence and the deeper truth that lies within it, though it's very tempting. I think my readers are smart enough to feel where I might go with that)

So I swung all the way around--north, then west on the 101, then south on the 405 to Century Blvd.  Andrew is gay, and now that I am more comfortable and "out", I get special delight in re-visiting my old gay friends.  I used to be somewhat uncomfortable around my gay friends, because I feared that they, being gay, had some special sixth sense, and would quickly figure out my dark secret.  I feared I'd be outted by them--not directly, perhaps--but maybe people would notice the similarities between me and my gay friends and come to a (correct) conclusion that I, too, was homosexual.

Well, all that crap is in the past now.  When I got to the airport, Andrew and I embraced in a way that seems exclusive to homosexuals and close family--that great big unrestrained bear hug of joy at seeing someone you care about after a long absence.

Mind you, I've no interest in a relationship with Andrew, but I love hugs and I do care about my friends very deeply.

We drove towards where he was staying in Sherman Oaks, and we stopped and got In-N-Out for dinner.  (I limit myself to no more than once a week, because I literally get giddy when I eat In-N-Out, it's just that good.  It makes up for the lack of decent pizza out here).

While we were talking, I noticed a guy sitting alone on a stool at the bench.  He looked to be in his low to mid 20's (I'm a terrible estimator of age) and slender with a jacket and a cap, five-o-clock shadow, and moist, sad eyes.

I couldn't help but watch him.  He looked as if he was really upset, yet didn't want to show the world his pain.  My heart reached out to this guy, and I really really wanted to go over and ask him what was wrong.  We made eye contact one or two times, but I didn't get a read on him.  I hesitated, minutes slipping by, trying to talk myself into going over and asking "is everything ok?"

But the moment slipped away.  He muttered something to him self, got up, dumped his trash and left.

Earlier this week I'd been reading articles about picking up a guy, and I'd committed myself to at least try striking up a conversation with someone I find attractive.  Why didn't I do it?  A wasted opportunity.  I feared that maybe he just wanted to be left alone--there was a reason he wasn't letting his tears flow--and maybe if I approached him, he'd be angry with me for not minding my own business.   But maybe he would have been grateful that in cold, uncaring, "blade-runner city" LA, someone at least tried to reach out.

But I still feel cheap, because my motivation wasn't 100% altruistic.  I thought he was cute and wanted to talk to him.  Eh, what are you going to do.

We're all sad strangers, walking the streets alone at night, staring up at the stars.  Wondering if somewhere out there your other half is looking at those same celestial bodies, questioning if he'll ever find his.

*sigh*

The Follow-Up: More E-mails From Mother

I know some might be wondering what kind of follow-up e-mails I might have received from my mother. Since there has been a little back and forth, I'm just going to contextualize and share some highlights.

I did not respond to her initial message, since she had said "more to come". So eventually, on Monday the 19th, she wrote back [excerpt]:

I am sorry that you had to wait so long, and I feel I must have failed you in some way that you couldn't tell me sooner. I am sorry I didn't earn your faith and trust. I'm not perfect either!

Have you told your dad? Sarah? David? Katie? My mom? etc? You didn't say not to say anything, but I haven't and won't until you say it's ok. It's your life to decide who know and who doesn't. But I'd like to know... not that I'm going to call or write to any of them and 'talk' about you... but sometimes something like that comes up in a conversation, you know..'

And then there is [My seminary teacher] She's going to be devastated. She told me how she felt she'd be held accountable if she accepted Brandon [Her gay son] the way he is- which I guess is gay from what she said. But I don't agree, you raise up your children as best you can, and then they make their own choices, or go their own way, and you love them even if they become an ax murderer. But from what I gathered talking to her, she can't except him as he is. She didn't say this but the impression I got was he can't come home until he 'cleans up his act'. Sad.

Are you going to tell her?

Well, aside from receiving the same love as an ax-murderer, this e-mail was much more satifying and I think she just doesn't really get that the way she's describing her feelings can be taken in an offensive way.

I told her that she was the last to know, and that I had told my Young Men's leader back in Virginia a while back, but really I wasn't sure about telling anyone from church from my past, (not that I intend to hide, either). She has asked if my roommate was more than just a love interest, and I told her no, that I hoped she'd think I could do better than that--no offense to my roomie. She replied:

Well, actually I had hoped [he wasn't your boyfriend], but if I was wrong, I wouldn't want you to think I didn't like him, I do he's a nice guy... is he straight or gay? I assume he knows. Do you have a 'love interest'?

Then she offers some motherly advice, which I find a bit revealing about why she might have never been able to remarry...

And I'll tell you the same thing I would no matter what sex prefernce... Don't have sex lightly... I think... I know from hearing it, that masterbation is a big no-no, but I think 'self service is better than getting involved in a relationship based on lust. And I'm sure I don't have to tell you about STDs. A good rule of thumb in finding 'the one for you' is... make a list of the 10 things you must have... and the 10 things you just can't live with. For me I couldn't live with someone I can't talk with.. or who loves Country western Music or the Beatles..... and hates what I love in music... I can listen to some for a little bit, but I've got to have my stuff most of the time, I need someone who can love most of what I love... I'm sure that sounds shallow But you've got to know what you can live with. Someone who is never on time? always? mellow ? compulsive? honest? sloppy neatnic? Politically inline with you? etc.... if you can really make the two lists... and in talking to the person who you are interested, you can steer the conversation around to these topics with out being obvious...you have a better idea of if it can be a long term relationship...

And wrapping up one of her messages she reiterated

I am sorry you felt like I would have dissed you. I thought I had expressed that I loved you no matter what. you know... unconditionally......

I guess when I really think about it, I have a really wonderful mother. I hope she and I can become truly comfortable with everything. My prayers go out to the parents of all my fellow moho's who might not have as easy of a time with their folks. Good luck, it feels good to be "out".

And Here's The Response

So this is the response:

Hi Sweetheart, this will be short because the computer keeps crashing every few minutes...
I'm glad you told me and that you are at peace with yourself. Does that mean Joe is more than a roomie? Just wondered. Anyway... Gotta end before it crashes again... will get back to you. Just didn't want you to wonder if I'd gotten this.
Love Mom

No mention that nothing has changed. No mention of support or rejection. And considering my mom is online ALL THE TIME, this seems a pretty weird/lame excuse. She could call me, I even suggested it in a PS on my original e-mail (which I left off of the previous post).

She hasn't called. The two people in my family who've had the least to say about my coming out have been the two that are still most deeply entrenched in the church. I know that this is because they are following the adage "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all". I realize she will need time to process, but I know that the reason she can't be immediately responsive is because she can't lie to herself or to me and tell me she's okay or that she supports me and that "nothing has changed"... because stuff has changed. I just threw a major kink into her vision for her children's future. And as an active memeber, she probably believes that my sexuality is a choice, or something she did wrong that caused it.

Frankly, (and it's going to sound cold to say this) I'm not going to let my mother worry me. I've extended my arms open to keep her a part of my life as I move into this new direction, and at this point the ball is in her court. She can either shoot the hoop or walk away. Who knows that that means, but the point remains. It's in her hands now.

I am sad she didn't call me, and I'm worried for what she might say in a longer e-mail.

Yikes.

Anyway, I'm lonely again on a Saturday night. *sigh*

The Letter's In The Mail

So I just hit send on my message to my mom. I felt like sharing it.

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Hey Mom,

I realize that it's been a long time since I wrote you a message of any major substance, but to be perfectly honest, I haven't really felt like talking to you much ever since you failed my litmus test.

You see, way back when I posted to my blog about the church's direct involvement with politics here in California, you responded by calling me a rebellious teenager, dismissed my questions and my invitation to discussion and understanding. I call this a litmus test because I've been filled with dread at the prospect of telling you something important.

I'm gay.

That's right, I like guys. I've known since I can remember, but I ran from it, fought it, prayed for it to go away, to change, so that I could be a good little Mormon and marry in the temple and go on a mission, but God has not seen fit to heal me.

I think that's because I'm not sick.

I've spent the best years of my life hiding, and being ashamed, and I'm not going to hide anymore. I'm slowly coming to accept and be at peace with myself as I am, and I hope you too can be at peace knowing that I love you and want you to be a part of my life.

I want to make it clear to you that this isn't anyone's "fault". You did the best you could raising all of your children--and I'm very blessed to have been sent to this earth to be in your care. I think of all the amazing things I was able to accomplish because of your unconditional love and support--my TV show, my radio show, plays, activities, etc. All because you chose to be a full-time mom.

You probably understand, better than most, the pain I've gone through in my life--you too had a vision of how your life was "supposed" to play out--you'd be married to a man for time and all eternity and raise many beautiful children who'd serve missions and have families--etc. And yet, something outside of your control sent you down a different path. I too grew up firmly believing that I should go on a mission, marry a woman in the temple, and have many children--and I really wanted that. But something outside of my control has sent me down a different path.

I wanted to tell you this in person, but I don't know how long it might be before I see you in person again, and I am tired of waiting to tell you.

Your loving son,

Ezra

The Depths Of Confusion

If I could express to you the level of personal dismay and confusion I feel, I would probably have a book deal, because it would take the eloquence of someone like Thoreau or Hemingway to convey the thoughts I've got bouncing around in my head.

This weekend, I'm planning to hit "send" on an e-mail that I've drafted (the first part was written almost 4 months ago, and finished Sunday night.) to my mother.  It's my coming out e-mail, and she's really the last person who really matters to me who doesn't know.

Big deal, right?  You've already come out to everyone else, you're no longer living a lie, you've already been out of the church proper since September, so what?

I've been thinking something really scary and horrible and it frightens me almost as much as the realization and fear of being gay--that maybe I'm bisexual/straight.

If I were to venture a guess, I'm probably a 4 on the Kinsey Scale, "Predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally heterosexual".  Without getting into too much detail, since I've "come out" and had some experience with male physical intimacy, I've found that I'm EXTREMELY picky when it comes to who I find attractive.  So what? 

Well, I can't look past the physical--I am extremely shallow for being a fat ass who's lucky to get anyone giving him the time of day.  The guys I'm interested in are all white, clean cut and slender.  I guess you could say I like twinks, though I don't really go for labels.  I don't like effeminate guys, but I don't like overly "masc" guys either... I guess I just want someone like me--a nice guy who doesn't know anything about sports, but doesn't have an obsession with pop stars like Beyonce (not that there is anything wrong with either).  So there's this tiny tiny window of what I'm actually attracted to, and everyone else I could care less about.

Well, when I've been in physical moments with guys I've dated, each time my desire for their physical body decreases very quickly, because they aren't what I'm looking for.  But I've probably got this "ideal" guy in my head that I'll never get or find, and so I'll never be able to have it... how is that different from trying to live in celibacy in the gospel?  I don't know.

The thing is, I don't know how to explain this without sounding perverse or rude. Frankly Mohos never seem to mention the sexual aspects of their attraction, (because we're all Mormon, and that stuff is taboo even in the hetero world).  

So if discussing gay sex is a bit uncomfortable for you, I'd advise moving on to the next blog where everything is talked about euphemistically, if at all.

I don't desire cock.  At least not the way it seems most (non-religious) gay people do.   For example, if  you're a red-blooded hetero male and you see a nice pair of breasts on someone whose face is "meh", you might still desire those luscious melons.  Well, when I'm in the gym and I see a nice penis, it doesn't arouse me, and I don't desire to play with it or anything like that.

I don't fantasize about giving or getting anal sex.  I don't get aroused at the thought of giving a blowjob--although getting one? Sure, but then again, most men, straight or gay enjoy getting one.

I am not disgusted or repulsed by women.  I could easily keep it up for a woman and probably have a fun roll in the hay--but I don't admire women in the same way.

Lately I've been feeling decidedly sexually ambivalent, and somewhat confused about it.  The fear lies in that if I'm bisexual, or even remotely hetero, then couldn't it be possible that I could someday find a woman I really love, physically and emotionally, and then live the path that the Mormon Church proscribes?  It's why I'm terrified of coming out publicly--once you're "out of the closet" it's basically impossible to go back on your word.

My roommate's girlfriend confided in him that she "doesn't think I'm really gay".  She has a lot of gay friends, both flamboyant and "straight-acting", and it bothers me that she could think that in a way.  My older sister also questioned me when I came out, saying that maybe I was Bi--all her best friends are gay, and she just couldn't believe it.

I'm rambling now.  I know this is all retarded--of course I'm gay.  I watch gay pornography, I date men, I abandoned my church and am venturing into the unknown, with only my fellow bloggers for a community now.  But it scares the hell out of me to think that if maybe I am changing, or healing, or was just confused--or if I'm bi, then that means I can "choose" to find a woman over a man, and live a "normal" Mormon life with a wife and kids.

I know that I'm just scared and confused and that the reason I don't feel much physical desire for men is because I've not found a man whom I'm attracted to both physically and intellectually, and I know that I need that--my sexual desire spawns from a desire to make the person I care about feel good, and to show my love for them--not because I'm all hot for cock.

Bah, sorry for this post.  I realize it's a terribly disorganized jumble of angst and confusion, but I suppose that's the only way to convey how mixed up I feel.  I've started to write three posts in the last three days but I never finish them, so I just jumbled them all together and got them out the door for you.

I suppose I'll be sending that e-mail late tonight... wish me luck. 

Have a great weekend.

Now, it's time to talk to Mother.

Well, I came out to my sister, and though on the surface she's taking it well, I think it's going to hit her a little while later the full implications of what I've told her.

I've made sure to emphasize that I always want her to feel like she can ask me anything and I'll be happy to answer the best that I can. The only question she asked me was "So what kinda guys are you attracted to?"

Hahaha, that's still a bit awkward for me to talk about, but I did my best to answer, and she just said "it just occured to me that we could talk about boys".

Weird.

Anyway, it's all good I guess. I think the funniest thing was that she said "Really?" and "For real?" when I said I was gay. I had to re-iterate three times before she simply shrugged "okay".

Not how I envisioned it, but it's all right I suppose.

Anyway, we've been doing some after-Christmas shopping around St. George today and trying to pick up good deals on Christmas crap for next year. It's been fun, but I do wish she'd talk to me a little bit more concerning my sexuality. I know she's got to be thinking about it.

Or maybe I'm just completely self-absorbed.

Well, be sure to pass this journal/blog around to all of your mohomies--I'd love to get some readers, because it'd almost definately motivate me to keep writing.

I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEW YEARS PARTY AT SCOTT'S HOUSE!!! See you all there, my Moho's!

June 17th, 2007 - The First Entry where I actually directly mention Homosexuality

6/17/07
Dear Journal,

It’s Father’s Day 2007. My brother and I got him a salt shaker and a pepper mill combo, since he needed a nice set that he could put on the dining room table. My brother got a double wide butter dish, since Dad broke his old one.

My brother didn’t feel up to going to church this week, so now I’m sitting alone on Father’s day with a a lot on my mind. I really wonder where my father is, and where I am, especially considering our own unique problems and issues. I do feel this church has truths, for example, I know pornography is destructive and a sin. It’s exploitative, vulgar, and makes light of something sacred. However, masterbation seems so innocent. It’s a way provided by our loving God to keep us from committing some more grave sin from sexual frustration and weakness.

But it also could just be rationalization of sinful behavior.

I have been struggling with same-gender attraction since, oh, I don’t know, 5th grade or so, maybe 1997 or 1996. 10 years. More than 10 years I’ve been hiding and suppressing what I really feel inside and it’s destroying me. Crushing me under guilt and sadness and suicidal thoughts. Since I started working with Bishop O. this spring, the suicidal thoughts have stopped (mostly). I masturbate a 1/10th of the times I used to, and for a time I even stopped viewing pornography. However, even when I was doing all those things, there was still so much I wasn’t doing—scriptures, prayer, etc. And through it all, the best I got was not thinking homosexual thoughts. But I never felt or feel attracted to a girl, and I still fantasized about guys. Basically I think almost all my energy and physical ailments stem from this lack of love, lack of expression and companionship. I am an actor, and I have played the role of a lifetime. Playing a happy, well-adjusted hetero-male, when I’m not. I want to come out, abandon this church and get all new-agey like Dad. But I’m so scared that I will be wrong, that I’ll disappoint people. Disappoint God. Besides, I’m fat and I don’t want to be gay. I do want a family and someone to be with so I won’t have to live my life alone.

Here in St. George, every time I see one of those cute tanned blond Mormon boys I cry because I worry that maybe I’d have been one of them if I’d had a different family of stayed in Utah. I meet people at checkout registers and wish I could ask them to be my friend without being super creepy and scary.

I had a brilliant idea the other day about being in a play—that way I could socialize, act and have some fun without being creepy.

Anyway, I’m also kinda sick. So that sucks, and hopefully will clear up.

Love yourself, since no one else will.

Ezra