Who Is This Child?

On Saturday, I was digging through my files and I found a program from my baptism and this photo was tucked away inside.

November 6th, 1994.

I happened to be on the phone with my older sister at the time, and I started to lose it.

I began crying. Hard. I tried to really feel and understand my tears. Why had this photo stirred me so?

I struggled to explain, though I sensed she understood intuitively what I was feeling.

My heart aches so much when I see this boy with such a beautiful spirit, who is trying his best, trusting the adults and people he loves and respects, who are trying to lead him to happiness in the best way they know how.

Yet—

Does he know how much things will change? He knows nothing of the internet, pornography, masturbation, homosexuality, hell—sin of any kind is a foreign experience.

Look at how joyful he is! Free from sin, and following the path of righteousness!

But look closer—the boy is anxious, scared. He's frightened of causing anyone more pain, of letting people down. So much so, he's got a cold sore, which always appear on his lips during periods of extreme anxiety.

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Dear Ezra of November 6th 1994,

I wanted to write you a letter.

You are of such infinite worth. You do not have to earn love. That love you so freely give is all that is required of you in this life. "As I have loved you, love one another".

You will have a lot of terrible things happen to you, but you will touch many lives with your love and your caring—please realize the value you have to those around you, and internalize that for those times when you feel like no one is there.

I love you so much, and I'm so sorry for all the pain I caused you.

I'm sorry for all the times I beat you and verbally abused you. For calling you stupid, and for never truly accepting you for the loving, sweet boy you are.

Everything will turn out alright. I love you.

Sincerely,

Ezra of Sept 2009.

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For the first time in my life, I've had a glimpse of how God must feel.

God knows what lies ahead of us. He looks across the reaches of Heaven, and His endless love swells for us—and oh, the sorrow He must feel! Seeing where we will fall, and wanting to warn us. But knowing that this is our test, and that He cannot intervene, no matter how much he wants to protect us from the pain. It is necessary for our growth.

God's hands are bound, lest agency cease.

I cannot spare that sweet little boy from 1994, any more than God can spare me now.

All I can do is embrace that young spirit inside me, and forgive myself, just as God will do when I finally feel his countenance shine upon me.

The King Has Returned!

You're supposed to read the title of that blog post a la Mufasa from Disney's "The Lion King". But if you didn't, I guess I can forgive you.

Anyway, It's been 40 days since I wrote in you last. If I were Noah, the rain would have finally stopped, but I wouldn't be getting off the ark for another year. (Or so the story goes.) But I'm not Noah, so there.

There are several things that I thought might make good blog posts, but since I'm exhausted after spending the night clubbing with Michael, I'm just going to quickly mention that I won third place in the 2009 Affirmation writing awards! It was essentially a slightly altered version of my "I Hate You, I Hate You" post, which you can read here if you feel inclined.

Goodnight moon, goodnight stars.

Hiatus

In the TV industry, there's this thing called "Hiatus".

It's a time when you're done producing your season, and everyone takes a a break.

Well, I'm taking a hiatus from this blog and from most of the blogosphere too.

I feel like I'm never going to be able to let go and move on from the LDS church if I keep spending all my time talking about it.

And frankly, I've kind of run out of things to say.

Take care friends.

Ezra

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?

Depressed

I was really depressed last night. I couldn't get a hold of anyone.

That's when I feel the worst. Totally alone.

At least I was blessed with a dream that I had someone cute and nice with which to share my bed.

That's all it'll ever be though. I'm too settled, self deprecating and conservative to earn the love of another.

San Francisco, Affirmation, Old Friends and a Model A Ford

Apologies to those who have been waiting for my feedback on this last weekend in San Francisco (I'm looking at you, Alan) This weekend I took a very short trip up to San Francisco for the 1st ever Affirmation Young Adult Cornerstone Conference. The conference was sparsely attended, but the small group made it feel more like a small ward activity than a big "conference". Which was nice. I think since it was the first time they'd ever had this event, coupled with the simple fact that most young people can't afford to go to San Francisco for the weekend. That's why all the attendees were from the Bay Area except me, Christian and his friend Max.

Christian is pictured here to the left. He is transgendered, and was born biologically female, and has been on hormones since April. I really enjoyed meeting him and getting to hear his story. I'd never met a transgendered Moho before and it was incredible. Interestingly, I still would occasionally refer to Christian as she--it annoyed me, because I support him and his dicisions, but knowing what I knew about his current physical state (pre-op) I would still mentally default to saying "she". I hope I didn't offend, as Christian was a cool person, and as the Bishop's kid in Orange County, I know his path is undoubtedly more difficult than mine.

The conference was fun and I sort of wish I had more time to get the stories of the attendees. I picked up peices between the seminars and talks about political activism and safe sex. But unfortunately, I just didn't get the time. We went on a walking tour of the Castro, which basically consisted of talking about which bars where for what and who goes where and has the best drinks or dancing. It made me feel a little out of the loop. I have gone dancing, but I still don't think clubbing tops my list of things to do on any given night. I still don't drink and frankly haven't more than a fleeting interest in starting. So once again, I was the minority, the guy who was recently out, single and insecure.

It is frustrating, because I'm working my hardest to find out why I'm still so goddamn uncomfortable with myself. My therapist and I are try to get to the root of it. I've got it boiled down the this, at least in my head--I don't deserve happiness. And I'm firmly of the belief that I'll never have it. It can't possibly sound any more emo and self-defeating, but that's the truth. And this blog is about the truth. I look at a couple like Austin and Todd, and I get nauseated. I feel sick to my stomach, knowing that the happiness and joy they've found in each other is never going to be found in my heart.

Don't get my wrong, I'm extremely happy for them--I know they will succeed as a couple. My envy is all encompassing. They are a hot couple, both extremely good looking and thin, which I'll never be. They seem to have given each other their whole heart, which embodies itself in the playfulness of their relationship. As it has been for my whole life, I'm controlled by fear. Despite my best efforts, every date I go on, I feel nothing, every time I look in the mirror and see the fat fuck staring back at me, I know I'll never earn the love and attraction I want, every day that I'm alone, I get more and more ready to give up.

I am sorry this post rapidly became depressing before I even knew what was happening.

I'll have to blog more on this later. To move on, Alan picked me up in his car in the Castro--I joked with him that I never expected to get picked up by an older man in a black car in the Castro..." Hahaha. We went to Grace Cathederal, which no pictures I took do justice. There was a wedding, and I got to hear some music of the choir.

Outside, I encountered this dashing gentleman, and knew I had to have a photo:

He pleasantly obliged, and I sent this photo to my mother, who loves the Scots. She also commented that she thought he was handsome--he is!

After Grace, Alan and I drove down through Golden Gate Park, and then to the 280 south to Woodside (Steve Jobs has a home in this area) up Route 84 to "Alice's Restaurant" (Yes, Arlo Guthrie's Alice's Restaurant.) We had dinner with my adopted Mom, Patty Mayall. Alan, Patty and I had a delightful dinner, laughing and talking about a myriad of subjects, before going back to Patty's to have apple pie.

For those who want backstory--Patty and I met at Mortified San Francisco back in April. Have you ever met someone who totally clicks with you and you feel like you've known them your whole life? It's a rare occurrence, but Patty and I were fast friends. And in the short time we were together, we felt comfortable enough to share phone numbers and e-mails, and she extended the invite to stay with her any time I was in the bay area.

So I took her up on the offer. And as we sat at the table talking, it was chilly and I put my arm around her, hugged her. It was very fun, and made me realize how much I miss my real mom, who is still in Virginia. I hope this doesn't make her jealous. My real mom (ToniAnne) and I will often go out to restaurants and sit across the table from each other and hold hands. It's fun, and makes my mom feel so loved and special--and she is both.

So Patty, my surrogate mom, was so appreciative--she's never had children of her own, and I think she really feels as blessed to know me as I do to know her. It's magic. She and her husband Ted are both going to be invited to my wedding (if I ever have one)

The next day, we got to do one of the coolest things I've ever done--easily the highlight of the weekend. We got to drive around the San Mateo Mountains in a 1928 Model A Ford!

Ted gases up the Ford before we begin our sojourn. The engine is gravity fed, meaning that the gas tank must be above the engine--which is why it's BEHIND THE DASHBOARD--basically your riding with 10 gallons of gasoline in your lap.

Here's the hood ornament. Classy! This car can go up to about 50 MPH (on a flat level stretch) and maybe 35-40 up any decent grade. It's a 3 speed flat cut gear manual transmission. It can get between 15-22 mpg. I got to ride in the rumble seat for most of the journey (no seatbelts) and consequently a rocking good time.

And then I got to DRIVE IT!!! This was kind of incredible, and as you can see I was giddy and grinning like the Cheshire cat the entire time. The car has an incredible amount of play in the steering, and it really felt not completely unlike driving the Antique Cars rides at any theme park. You could turn the wheel about a quarter turn before getting any response from the tires. It made driving a very conscious activity. This was real motoring. Oh, and no power brakes either... you're stopping the car with the force of your own foot.

When we finally got to San Gregario, we posed for a picture (me with my new hat I'd just bought).

I took the liberty of correcting and photoshopping this picture to the left to give it a historical and authentic look. Sigh, I want to own a car like this--but only if I've got a cool place to drive it like the winding country roads of the San Mateo Mountains.

In short, it was a fantastic weekend, with lots of new experiences, new friends, and fun. I'm an incredibly lucky guy, even if I don't understand why.

The Best Independence Day Weekend Ever

Matt from "dripping with optimism" came down from Sacramento to spend his holiday weekend with me. I initially enticed him with the promise of a Death Cab for Cutie concert at the Hollywood Bowl.

When ever someone from out of town visits, I'm always delighted because they motivate me to get out and go places I've never been or are "touristy". We had a super packed weekend, and Matt did a stellar job of outlining a basic plan, but allowing everything to flow and feel natural.

Friday, we went to the LA Zoo and braved the heat and sun to see all the cool animals. I think my personal favorite might have been the Ocelot. As we waited in the 45 minute queue to get tickets into the zoo (crazy, right?) Matt and I got to talking and I found out that he was aware of the movie "The Wizard of Speed and Time" by Mike Jittlov. Which is amazing because NO ONE knows about this movie. You can only buy second hand VHS copies of it on ebay or Amazon... it's just not out there.

Which inspired us to head to Mike's house in Silverlake. We just drove by, but it was fun. We walked down Hollywood Blvd and checked out Michael Jackson's star. Then we went up to the Hollywood and Highland complex, and took this classic photo:

We are SO sexy... lol. I kept wanting to fix Matt's glasses--they are a bit warped, and so they don't sit quite level on his face. That night, we went to the LACMA and caught a bit of free Jazz. Then we checked out the Mullholland Overlook:

Below, the city stretched out like a glittery dream. Still light out, but at that magic hour when the earth and the sky are the same intensity.

The next day, we went to Huntington Beach. I'd gone last summer with my roommate, and the fireworks show they have was phenomenal. So when we got to the beach, we jumped right into the water--and it was COLD. It was surprisingly cold--even a stalwart Mainer such as I could only last about 20 minutes before my hands started to loose feeling!

We walked around to warm up... but as the sun went down, Matt was shivering uncontrollably. (I was chilly, but okay--but I've got insulation). He wasn't sure he'd be able to hold out for the fireworks.

We sought out a wind break in the nook of a building. I pulled Matt in front of me and had him lay against my chest. I wrapped my hands around him and held his hands (which were freezing) and put my cheek on his ear to keep it warm. It was very cozy.

And I just enveloped him and held him for about an hour and half. We watched the fireworks together like that and I've not felt so contented and peaceful in ages.

People walked by and stared, and I didn't care at all. I stared back--one woman smiled as said it looked cozy--boy was it ever.

As I sat there, I I told Matt that he was going to make some guy really lucky someday. He said "igual"

Ditto, essentially.

I'm kinda honored that he trusted me and felt comfortable enough to share that moment with me. I'm so lucky to have a friend like that. Thanks Matt, for making my Independence Day into a really treasured memory.

We drove home, happy and singing classic 90's hits in the car. It took two hours to fight traffic home--but it was a blast. When we got home, we made Root Beer Floats and watched Clue.

The next day, it was on the the Los Angeles Natural History Museum. I'd say this is my favorite photograph that I've taken in a long time, from the African wing:

After that, we hit up Chipotle for a late lunch/early dinner and then went to the Death Cab Concert--the reason for the trip, the finale to an amazing weekend:

The concert ended with a fireworks bonanza for "Transatlanticism" as a finale.

Believe me, you had to have been there. It was an INCREDIBLE finale to a great concert.

The next morning, as I drove Matt to the station, I admit I teared up a little--I'm a sucker for a goodbye. :( Anyway, thanks for the fun times, Matt. Hope to see you again soon.