How Could He Say That!?

I've been thinking about this post since Christmas Eve. Unfortunately I can't really come up with a point to my thoughts. I've just felt a desire to write about the subject.

How much importance should we place in what people say?

If you're a MoHo, you most likely know what I am talking about: Regular contact in Church settings will have almost certainly exposed you to a conversation about homosexuality that is at a minimum uncomfortable and quite possibly downright disturbing. But I don't want to pick on the Church, because insensitive, thoughtless comments and discussions can happen anywhere. And I for one cannot claim innocence. As I've grown older, I have begun to shudder when I think of the thoughtless comments I have made and who they might have hurt.  We know so little about each other really. So little about each others' background.

Example 1: When I was 18 I had a slightly older friend who received a mission call, but could never become comfortable with it. He followed his heart and did not go on a mission.  A very difficult decision that was not easily accepted by those around him.  While I didn't criticize him and really had no problem with it, to this day I wish I had been more affirmatively supportive.

One Sunday the two of us were visiting another ward's Priests Quorum.  The YM president was speaking on missions.  It has been a very long time, so I no longer remember what he said.  But the essence of it was that only selfish, lazy, unfaithful young men did not go on missions.  I sat there stunned, and I think most of the young men did too, since they knew of my buddy's decision.  I can't imagine how hard that was for him.

Now I knew the instructor personally.  He was not a bad man; in fact he was a fairly good man.  Stern and rigid, but good.  I still know him although I haven't seen him in some time.  In fact, in my other life I was his attorney!  And I understand that he genuinely did not know anything about my friend's circumstances.  I later learned that he was completely mortified once he was told about the situation by the ward's bishop.

Example #2:  Not to pick on this same family, but about five years later I was at this YM president's house around the Holidays.  I was very good friends with his children and his oldest daughter's husband and was there for visit.  The grandmother was there staying.  Nice grandmotherly-type person.  

Somehow the conversation turned to a young man in her ward back home who almost decided to come home early from his mission.  Grandma pointed out how he would have disgraced and humiliated his family and basically ruined his life had he done so.  As I listened to this, chuckling to myself, I could see the daughter sinking deeper and deeper into her chair.  See, I had chosen to come home from my mission. after about 18 months  There were a variety of reasons why I did so, one of which (you guessed it) revolved around my sexuality.

Once again, after I left, Grandma got the 411 and was deeply embarrassed.  I assured the my friends that I was fine and that, to some extent, I found it amusing.

Final Example:  Christmas Eve this year.  I am at my niece's house.  Her parents, her adult sister and four younger adopted/foster siblings were there.  Also in attendance were her boyfriend who she lives with and two young ladies who are in a lesbian relationship and live with them as roommates.  Early in the evening, one of the two young ladies came in.  While I knew my niece had lesbian roommates, I had never met them so after the girl went to the back room I asked who she was thinking perhaps she was just another guest.  My niece then said "that's so-and-such's girlfriend."  Silence in the room.  I finally said, "well, I've got nothing to say about that" and everyone started laughing.  The adults know about me although the kids are too young to get it.  So nothing was said but the discomfort was apparent.

What to make of this?  I can't decide really whether I should be bothered by these situations.  Even as I write, I am beginning to think I should rather be grateful for them.  I mean, do we not get an unguarded look at what people really think?  I think I'm convincing myself that it is good to, at least on occasion, see someone's unfiltered opinion.  Instead of making us angry at them, maybe it's a chance to show some maturity and realize everyone has prejudices and does thoughtless things.  Perhaps getting a peek now and then makes us all more realistic about the limits of human nature and more understanding of each others' imperfections.

Why The Holidays are Hard

I'll start by making an honest disclaimer: I enjoy playing the cynical scrooge so the Holidays have always been a time for me to be grumpy and difficult. And I like being begged to attend functions. Sick I know, but there it is. Plus, I am really, REALLY, OCD and have an extremely difficult time attending social functions (even with very close family and friends) for long periods of time. It's not so much that I'm socially awkward, although there is a little of that, as that I find it challenging to hold still and simply become engrossed in a bi-lateral conversation - one where I'm not doing all the talking. I think that's why I was a good lawyer and public speaker. Complete control of a conversation.

Ok. So, I woke up this morning and realized that I struggle with the Holidays because everything that is happening reminds me of what I can not ever have. I have accepted the fact that I am gay. I have made great strides toward seeing this as neither evil, negative, nor frankly as my "cross to bear" like I used to and like many of my friends in our online MoHo world do.

However, all of my life I have yearned to be what is often derisively referred to as a "sell out". I have wanted, and will always want, the whole package. While I no longer believe in the Mormon faith in particular, or any religion in general, I maintain that the Mormon lifestyle is the prime example of the way to lead a happy life. The works. Nice house, pretty wife, five beautiful children who will get married, have a bunch of kids and come visit for family dinners and the Holidays. Suburban in the driveway. Ward dinners. I loved all of that stuff. In fact, I think even as a teenager I pined for the pre-block days of ward family and ward family oriented activities pretty much all week long. Church was a safe, comfortable cocoon.

I woke up this morning and maybe for the first time really and truly realized I'll never have it. Yet everything around me reminds me of what I am missing. I love my brothers, but am jealous of their lives and families. They try their hardest to include me, and have stuck by me through some ugliness I can't begin to describe. A Holiday doesn't go by without them including me in many ways in the things their families do. Their children love me and are always happy to see Uncle ControllerOne. And I love it all. But it does remind me my brothers have what I never will. Same with my wonderful friends who ALWAYS make sure I have some place to be at traditional family times, almost to the point of obsessing over it.

Shoot, even the comics torture me. I love reading them, but let's face it Pickles, For Better or For Worse, Grand Avenue, Baby Blues, Zits, Luann - shoot even Drabble in a wacky way - remind me that life is about family and I'll never have one of my own. Only Dilbert, with Dilbert and Wally as lovable lone lonely loners (I feel like Sid from Ice Age), doesn't pick at the wound.

So I pulled myself out of bed, put my sheets in the laundry (which is an OCD must every Sunday morning), and wrote this whiny post. Thanks for listening and joining my pitty party. And, oh yeah, Happy New Year.