Admissions of Hurt

 Animals often hide when they are in pain. Prey animals especially strive to be quiet when they are injured because they know they are at their most vulnerable. I admit I feel some frustration when I see people in my rabbit Facebook groups comment that their rabbit was injured, but they're pretty sure they're okay because they're not making any sounds that sound like they are hurting. Tells me they haven't done the necessary research into the animal they have brought into their home, to learn that their pet could quite literally have a broken bone, and still be silent. Because to communicate weakness is to invite predators to come take advantage of that weakness. Even dogs, who we don't typically think of as "prey" animals, will often hide their pain because natural instinct tells them that in the wild, that weakness would still invite attack from larger predators and perhaps even from fellow members of their pack.

In humans I think we see that same survival instinct. When we don't feel safe, we do not communicate our weaknesses. When we do not trust the people around us, we do not often express things about ourselves that make us feel vulnerable. We generally don't ask people for help unless we have been given a reason to trust that they might care. And this is where we often get it wrong.

When someone comes to you saying "I am hurting" or "I have a request I need to make from you though I know it may not be convenient, but I cannot do it on my own" or "I feel hurt by this thing you did" .... This is not at an attack, nor is it meant to be a burden. If that pet rabbit cried out and whimpered, would you react with anger, or would you seek to understand what you could do to help? As a general rule, people only come to other people when they are vulnerable, with the intent to express how they have been hurt because they trust that that person cares enough about them to care and to want to help or repair. The very act of reaching out to express a grievance or ask for help is a love letter in its own right. It's a message that not only does that person love you, but that they believe you love them too. That you care as much as they do about maintaining the relationship. 

And when that call for help, that admission of vulnerability, that message that says "I felt hurt when..." is met with dismissal or anger or defensiveness... then that hurt person hears something else entirely. I thought you were safe, but you are not. I thought you would care enough about my feelings that when you understood you would want to do your part to protect our relationship, protect me, but you must not care about me the way I hoped you did.

That is the moment when that person goes silent. The person isn't better, the relationship isn't better when they no longer come to you when they feel hurt or need help. The relationship is dying from the inside out because they have given up the hope that explaining how they feel will result in consideration. 

Consideration is the highest form of love. And when it is lacking, it can be real hard to feel loved anymore. 

May we all strive to hear people's grievances not as something that would make us pick up our sword and shield, but instead as a love letter from someone full of hope and loyalty who desperately wants their bid for connection to be reciprocated. May we feel honored that they love and trust us with their pain, with their needs, with their vulnerability, and do our best to respect it and honor it in return.

Fitting into Boxes

 A few weeks ago I was hanging out with an old friend I hadn’t seen in a while. She put her hand on my arm and it lingered for just a moment in a tender way. I looked up and commented. “You’re not a touchy feely person. Why did you do that?” She said “I’m not, but you are.” And I felt seen and loved. And honestly, I wanted to cry.

The other day a friend commented on the fact that people grow into friendships. She commented on the fact that she herself does not put a lot of focus on feelings and emotions, and in some ways is emotionally unavailable. But then she made this friendship (with me) with someone for whom emotions were important, and she needed to grow into that a little and make space for that thing which was important to me. And I felt seen and loved.

Yet another friend commented to me recently that I needed to get out of my head. That “the people who are not accepting of you are not your people. You don't need/want them around anyway!” And I felt seen, and accepted, and, obviously a little called out 😂 but in a good way—in a way that said there was hope that I could be loved without hiding or changing myself with this person.

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about those moments and what they mean to me. Because I tend to feel like my primary duty in most relationships is to shrink myself into the box that best fits the needs of other people.

And maybe that’s still an appropriate thing that I need to do in some circumstances. I don’t think it’s a bad thing that when I make friends with people who are not touchy-feely that I avoid touching them because it is an attempt to respect their boundaries and ensure they feel safe and comfortable even though in some ways it limits my ability to feel connected with them.

But I also think on that friend who said that she tried to make space for my feelings even though she herself does not put much focus on those things and I think… admittedly I have withheld a lot of my emotions from that friendship because I felt it wouldn’t have been understood/valued. I told myself that we could be friends without that aspect of myself, and it’s true we have been. And I love and appreciate her for all the things that make her a wonderful person and friend. But which of our reactions to being different led to growth in the relationship? Me shrinking myself so as to not be “too much” or her expanding herself so she could accommodate me?

Which of course ties us back in to that comment by the third friend. How much time with friends am I wasting by being stuck in my head? How much of my friendships are not being experienced to their full potential because I am too worried about being too much? How much time have I wasted trying to be small enough to fit into the boxes I feel like people have available for me, when I should have moved on because the box was too small?

I don’t have an actual solution to this despite it being pointed out to me. Because I still have the feeling that the raw version of me that hasn’t been tailored to fit the masses, is too much, too needy, too emotional, too loud, too unfiltered, too inappropriate, too physical, too insecure, too different.

The irony is that I remember people in middle school talking about this feeling of needing to create different personas to fit in with different people and it never made sense to me. It sounded impossible and exhausting and disingenuous. And above all else I value people being genuine.  I was the same version of myself with everyone. Or at least I felt I was. And I was proud of it in that moment because I felt like I could be unapologetically myself all the time.

I’m not sure when that changed. I guess I realized at some point that I irritated a lot of people. And making myself smaller made me stand out less, and fly under the radar. It made me more palatable.

To some extent I still feel like I am always genuinely myself. Like I don’t change myself for people, I just don’t show them everything. Like that’s different. But I’m not sure that it is different.

Being a good friend is something that admittedly, I pride myself on, but in seeing the examples of my friends, I feel I also have to ask myself… have I been so focused on the ways I could make myself smaller to better fit people’s expectations that I have overlooked the ways I could have grown and expanded myself in order to better fit others needs? Have I overlooked the ways I could have been a better friend in the ways that were important to them, even if they weren’t important to me?

Where do you draw the line between respecting others boundaries/abilities/needs…. And respecting your own boundaries, abilities, needs?

Repentant Apologies

This was a talk I gave in church this month:

Let me start, by reading an excerpt from a post from the page “Come Follow Me Daily” which stood out to me a few weeks ago. 

“I think I often put Zion on a pedestal. A perfect people that made perfect choices. THAT’S why they were good enough. THAT’S why God walked with them. But that obviously isn’t true. They were still regular people in a fallen world. All that mentality does is separate me from God and make what they did seem unobtainable. And any real community is messy—a bunch of perspectives, and a bunch of experiences all bumping into each other. Here is my guess. Probably the same day that the city was taken up, there was a misunderstanding that left someone hurt. Probably that same day, there was an action that impacted another person negatively. Maybe, at the very moment they were taken up, someone was crying. Zion is not perfection. It is constantly turning to the One who is. So while all those things might have happened, I firmly believe these things were happening too: Communication after misunderstanding. Apologies after missteps. Repair where things were broken. Grace before it was asked for. Forgiveness. Second tries. Thirds. Fourths. Loving shifts in expectations so someone could succeed. Tears, but with eyes lifted up.  And a continual turning toward the Savior. “One heart and one mind” doesn’t make interactions easy. It makes them valuable. This wasn’t a perfect people. It was a trying people. A loving people.”

(If you're not familiar with the story of the city of Enoch, let me direct you here.)

I think this lines up well with Mosiah 18: 20-22 which reads 

“Yea, even he commanded them that they should preach nothing save it were repentance and faith on the Lord, who had redeemed his people. And he commanded them that there should be no contention one with another, but that they should look forward with one eye, having one faith and one baptism, having their hearts knit together in unity and in love one towards another. And thus he commanded them to preach. And thus they became the children of God.” 

I’ll pause at the mention of “there should be no contention one with another.” I think its tempting to read that and assume that there was no contention in the city of Enoch. But looking at the definitions for the word “contention” I see “a struggling between opponents; competition.” In which case I might argue there was no contention in Enoch.  Not because there were never any disagreements or hurt feelings but because those disagreements were never born from a place where they believed the other person was their enemy. It was never a competition to be right so the other person could be proven wrong. And instead, an opportunity to seek God. An opportunity to understand, return and repair and move forward together.

The people of Enoch may well have been imperfect. But as a community, I believe they were the best at utilizing repentance, not only with their Heavenly Father, but with each other. I believe they strove to see the best in one another, and chose to have faith that through moments of feeling broken hearted, their fellow men were also striving to do their best.

With that, I’d like to turn my attention to the process by which we repent and how it relates to our interactions with one another. The bible dictionary tells us that the Greek word being translated when we refer to repentance denotes “a change of mind, a fresh view about God, about oneself, and about the world.” At its heart, I think it requires and indicates hope.  A willingness to admit we were wrong. The desire to better know God, and an intentional desire to better understand ourselves and one another.

The first element listed in the process of repentance is Faith in our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. This is where I think it become obvious that repentance requires hope. Why else do we repent, if not because we have faith that repentance is possible because of our Savior Jesus Christ? Why else do we repent if not because of the desire to return to our Heavenly Father and to become more like Him? The belief that we can become more like them. We desire to repent when we desire to honor our relationship with them. Similarly, apologies are a means to restore trust in our relationships, especially those we value. Apologies are a way of seeking to align ourselves with those who have been hurt. When we seek to engage in sincere apologies, we will not see them as an act of defeat in the war of being right or wrong. Instead, real apologies are an indication that we believe people are more important than our own ego.

The second element of repentance, is “sorrow for sin.” In the strictest sense, we define sin as willfully disobeying Heavenly Father’s laws. In that sense, we believe that we will only be held accountable for that which we understood to be wrong and chose to do anyway, right? But I ask you, why do we teach our children to apologize for accidents? If my foot is extended in the aisle and unintentionally causes someone to trip, have I sinned? Obviously, we all know the answer is no. So then, why do we apologize? The second part of the definition of sin is “to fail to act righteously despite a knowledge of the truth.” So then, the sin in this case, lies not in the original act, but in the moment that we come to understand that we have contributed to the hurt of another person, and refuse to sacrifice our own ego in order to make repair. I think we have all found ourselves in the position where our knee jerk reaction was to say “well that wasn’t my intention so I shouldn’t be held accountable here.” But as soon as we are made aware that we caused or contributed to harm, repentance requires that we feel sorrow. If you cannot feel sorrow despite having caused harm, intentionally or not, then you cannot and have not repented.

We have been commanded to love God, and we have been commanded to love our neighbor. And if we love them, then sorrow for having caused harm will be a natural side effect. I think with this in mind, it stands to reason why we feel so hurt when people who profess to love us refuse to apologize. Can you say that you love someone if it does not cause you sorrow to learn that you have hurt them? Godly sorrow requires that we also have a sincere desire to do everything we need to do to receive forgiveness.

The third element of repentance is confession. We need to admit our mistakes, admit when we were wrong, acknowledge the negative effects of our choices. At its core I think this is evidence that God knows the value of communication. Sorrow is not enough if we are unwilling to communicate that sorrow. We cannot expect God to forgive us if we will not confess. Similarly we cannot expect others in our lives to forgive us if we cannot convey an awareness of the effects of our actions. That is not to refute the commandment to forgive. Whether we apologize or not, repent or not, our fellow man is still commanded to forgive us, the same we way are commanded to forgive even when we do not receive that long-awaited apology. But unless we confess, unless we admit what we have done, we ourselves cannot expect forgiveness. And we can only assume that because God expects us to confess to Him, that he expects us to treat our neighbor in the same way. His gospel is meant to teach us after all.

The fourth element is the forsaking of sin. At its core, repentance is about becoming more like God, who does not sin. It’s about change and growth and improvement. We cannot claim to be seeking to be more like God when we are knowingly continuing the same behavior that brought us to needing to repent. And this applies to our relationships with other people just as much as it applies to our relationship with God. Let’s review the definition of repentance again: “To commit sin is to willfully disobey God’s commandments or to fail or act righteously despite a knowledge of the truth.” Once we know that sticking our foot into the aisle can cause unintentional harm, we have an obligation to make an intentional goal of not sticking our foot into the aisle. Repentance is about being intentional. I suppose the definition of being righteous, would be the opposite of sin. Someone who willfully obeys God’s commandments and acts according to the truths they understand. Relationships also require that we be intentional.

The fifth element is restitution. In the story of Abimelech, he takes Abraham’s wife Sarah with the intention of making her his, but he is unaware that she is already married. When the Lord comes to him in a dream to inform him, he says “in the integrity of my heart and innocency of my hands have I done this.” And God says “I know.” “for I also withheld thee from sinning against me: therefore suffered I thee not to touch her.” So God didn’t let him take things so far as to have sinned against Him, however, he still gives instructions for how Abimelech needs to correct the situation with Abraham and Sarah. “Now therefore restore the man his wife” And in the morning, Abimelech goes to Abraham and says “I wish you had told me, so I would not have done this.” And had the story stopped there Abimelech would have been in the wrong. Abraham proceeds to explain why he had fudged the truth and admits that he had pre-judged Abimelech thinking to himself “surely the fear of God is not in this place.” And then Abimelech returns Sarah, and as an addition to his restitution, he gifts Abraham with sheep and oxen, money and servants and says, you can live anywhere in my land that you wish. Abraham proceeds to pray unto God and God heals Abimelech and his wife and servants that they can once again bare children.  I won’t argue that this is the best example of apologies, but I do think it’s a relatable one. And one where both sides seek to take responsibility for their part and make restitution. Repentance requires that when our actions cause hurt or damage to others, that we seek to repair.

Finally, the last element of repentance is righteous living. We often hear the phrase “repent daily” and ask ourselves, well, I’m not sure how to do that. How do I have sorrow for sin, confess, give up the sin, make restitution every single day? What if I’m still in that chapter where I don’t know what I did wrong? What if I feel like I didn’t do anything wrong today? How do I repent daily? And to that end, I think it’s important that we remember the first and the last elements of repentance. To review, the first element was Faith in our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Turning to the Savior and relying on His power and acting on that faith is how we are cleansed from sin. And lastly, righteous living. Doing our best to follow Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. This means going back to basics. Study scriptures, praying every day, going to church, taking the sacrament, paying tithing, attending the temple. What was the opposite of sin? Willfully obeying God’s commandments. Deliberately. Intentionally. On purpose. And when we come to that second part of the definition for sin “failing to act righteously despite a knowledge of the truth.” Perhaps righteous living requires actively taking steps to further our understanding of the truth so that we can better understand how to act righteously. How do we apply that to relationships? Learning about those we love. Studying them. Communicating with them. Doing things with them, making good habits with them.

I think sometimes the key to repair is exposure therapy. When someone apologizes and then walks away without making restitution, or makes restitution, but then avoids us like the plague, we may forgive them, but we don’t feel the healing balm of restored trust. That requires putting ourselves back in the relationship and proving that we are here to be intentional. We are here to keep trying. We are here to make mistakes, but we are also here to fix them to the best of our ability. In light of the baptisms that occurred yesterday, I am reminded of our baptismal covenant to comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to mourn with those who morn. The commandment to love God, and to love our neighbor serves as a reminder to apply the things God is teaching us to our daily lives, and to our interactions with others.

I’ll end with the scripture I started with: “Yea, even he commanded them that they should preach nothing save it were repentance and faith on the Lord, who had redeemed his people. And he commanded them that there should be no contention one with another, but that they should look forward with one eye, having one faith and one baptism, having their hearts knit together in unity and in love one towards another. And thus he commanded them to preach. And thus they became the children of God.” Mosiah 18: 20-22.

Let us seek to be a more Zion-like people in our relationships. More like the children of God that we are, and that we can become.

 

 

Forgiveness and Trust

I was having a conversation with someone the other day that ended up emphasizing the difference between forgiveness and trust. At this point in our adult lives, we’ve all heard that we need to forgive others, right? We’ve all heard that Jesus instructed that we would be required to forgive 70 times 7. And of course as adults we understand that is not meant to be taken literally but instead to mean that we are not meant to put limits on our forgiveness to others just as our Heavenly Father does not put limits on His forgiveness for us. 

Now, something that comes up now and again is the fact that there is a difference between forgiveness and trust. I can forgive those who trespass me. Absolutely. And I need that. We all do, right? Holding on to the anger and the hurt is not healthy. But it is important to remember that God is not commanding us to trust people without boundaries. Forgiveness without limits is not the same as trust without boundaries. Now, I’ve heard that said before, but I’m not sure I’ve ever felt that it was backed up by scripture before. And that can be hard especially when you are feeling pressured by people who are misusing that commandment to forgive to manipulate you into trusting them without making amends.

But you know what I realized this week? It absolutely is backed up by scripture. As one example, the parable of the master distributing talents to his servants is an example of trust and boundaries. Expectations were set, trust was extended. To the servants who utilize the talents wisely, he doubles them. He exercised trust in them. And when they showed they were worthy of that trust, he extended more trust. However, the servant who failed to meet those expectations had what was given to him taken away. Does that mean the master never forgave that servant? No it does not. It means a boundary was enforced when expectations were not met. And I absolutely believe that if we were to write an extended edition of that parable, if the last servant were to come back and express his sincere apologies for his actions, show that he understood where he had failed, and that he had a sincere desire to repair the relationship, repair the trust with his master, and that he had put forth the time and effort to show that he had a plan for how he was going to do better, that with time the master’s forgiveness could have grown into a new opportunity to exercise trust in that servant once again. And with evidence of change, that relationship could have been healed. But without the servant making the choice to apologize in a way that was truly penitent, then the master was under no obligation to trust that servant ever again. 

Far too often I see the commandment to forgive misused by people who think that those they have hurt have a duty to forgive them without any effort made on the part of the person who caused the offense. And should those people forgive them? Absolutely. Although I will say that it is not anyone's place to put a timeline on that forgiveness. However, it is critical that we understand that apologies still hold a critical place in this equation. 

Without apologies, forgiveness can still happen, but relationships die. Trust dies. Sincere apologies are like repentance. And the apology turns into a lie unless you are willing to put forth action to support the apology. Actions that address the hurt. Actions that show a desire to not only slap a band-aid on the situation but promote healing. Actions that show an understanding of how you made that person feel, and the desire not to make them feel that way again. Sincere apologies show that you care about the person, they show that you care about the relationship you have, whether it be professional or friendly or romantic, it doesn’t matter. Apologies show that you want to build something and not tear people down.

This is why repentance is so important to our Heavenly Father. It’s not because he needs us to say sorry for Him to forgive us. He absolutely can and does forgive us even when we do not apologize. It’s because He needs us to care enough about our relationship with Him to want to seek him, acknowledge what we did, whether accidentally or intentionally, repair the damage that was done, to understand Him, and seek to grow closer to Him in the process. That is why we need to repent. It’s not for His sake. It’s not so we can be forgiven. It’s so we can grow together with Him. It's because without repentance we can't love and respect Him. Without repentance we can't have the type of relationship with Him that He desires to have with us. 

And that is the model he has given us for our relationships here on earth. So the next time you tell yourself “I don’t need to apologize to that person,” let’s acknowledge that what you are saying is “I don’t care enough about that person to repair my relationship with them.” And sometimes, maybe that’s okay. Sometimes we need to put up boundaries and walk away. But if you aren’t willing to apologize, if you aren’t willing to put forth the work to repair what was broken, please don’t tell that person that you love them as though that fixes things. Because that is a narcissistic kind of love. That communicates a love that only cares about you and your needs and not theirs. Love without respect. And that’s not Christ-like love. Depending on the context and the relationship that can be extremely damaging and toxic. Even when we need to walk away... if we are truly seeking to be Christ-like, then our arms should be outstretched if the moment ever presents itself, that they are finally willing to repair things with us. "Knock and it shall be opened unto you."

I’m gonna end with a series of quotes I’ve been thinking about lately:

“The highest form of love is consideration. When someone thinks about how things would make you feel. Pays attention to detail. Holds you in regard when making decisions that could affect you. In any bond, how much they care about you can be found in how much they consider you.” 
Kira J

“If you are around people who can confidently speak up when your behavior is impacting them negatively, it means they have respect for themselves, and it means they are teaching you how to love them because they value you enough to keep you in their lives." 
Nina Grewal

“When a woman bravely reaches out to address something that hurts her, it's a precious gift. It's her saying, "I still care enough to fix this. I'm willing to fight for us." It's a profound chance for connection, for healing, and for mutual growth. But when that moment of vulnerability is met with anger, blame, or dismissal, it pushes her further away. Not just emotionally-but spiritually. Because nothing is more damaging to a woman's spirit than constantly being made to feel wrong for simply wanting to be treated right.” 
Unknown

3 Simple Rules to live by:
Love needs action.
Trust needs proof.
Sorry needs change.

Honestly I could share a dozen more, but I'm not sure it's worth the time right now. I have spent so much time and energy the last few years into reaching out to people when things hurt me. And more often than not I have been met with dismissal instead of the desire to reach understanding. Excuses are made instead of accountability shown. And afterwards, nothing changes. Each time I am expressing that I still care enough about that relationship to want to provide an opportunity for this to be fixed. And each time I find myself feeling more angry and then more detached. Not because I don't care, but because I have cared for too long and I'm not getting enough in return. That's a status quo that cannot be maintained. I don't know how to keep caring enough, and I don't know when to let go. We can't expect that we will always get apologies or real change. But we can choose who we trust. And once trust is broken, it takes more than "sorry" or love to fix it. It needs action, proof and change. 

Pain and Allies

I had the chance this weekend to attend a presentation on Supporting LGBTQ Latter-day Saints put on by a well known author/podcaster (or at least well-known by the LGBTQ+ crowd in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). While the presentation was good, I want to share a few thoughts I had from the dinner I attended with him beforehand. 

At dinner, he made a comment that he has a friend who is a doctor who made this observation:

"Pain is a friend to us as doctors. It tells us there's a problem that needs to be addressed." 

This was followed by the comment that the same should be true of church. If someone is having painful experiences at church, it tells us there are things we need to address. 

So let me ask you a rhetorical question. When you see someone struggling with their church experiences, are you asking yourself "what can be done to improve their experience?" or more personally "What can I do?" I think a lot of people at church tend to tell themselves one of these lines (to name a few): 

• people's experiences are their responsibility and not mine
• it's their job not to take offense
• they need to fix their attitude
• they need to repent
• if they just endure they'll be blessed
• it is what it is
• they just need more faith
• I am not my brother's keeper

I'm not saying those statements are necessarily categorically false. Perhaps they are true, at least some of the time. But if that is our primary attitude, I think we are unrighteously relieving ourselves of our duties to mourn with those that mourn, and to stand with those in need of comfort. 

I heard a snippet of a podcast today where a pastor was explaining that his ministry had come to feel they needed to change how they talked about their inclusion of LGBTQ+ members. His comment was that his ministry had become

"reticent of using words like full inclusion or affirming because they feel a little self-congratulatory. We finally settled on the word repentant. Our sense was that we had not done something wonderful. We had stopped doing something awful and you shouldn't get a Nobel prize for the release of slaves or stopping abusing your spouse. It wasn't an act of generosity on our part, it was an act of repentance. We didn't invite queer people to the sacrament, we finally joined them there."

Does that hit a little hard to you? Inclusion was something they should have been doing all along, not something to be pointed out so it can be lauded for bonus points. Inclusion was an act of necessary repentance. They realized action is expected and not just better than inaction. This leads me to something else he said that evening. I wish he mentioned it in his presentation.

"As an ally you take any arrows you can for queer people." 

 I've never really liked the word ally, and I'll tell you why. It means a lot of things. And I find that a lot of people only take the most shallow sense of the word to heart. At least in action, I find that it most often means "I'm not a jerk to gay people." or "I don't judge gay people." or maybe "I agree with you politically." None of those things actually say to me "I can trust that person to be there for me." Silence and inaction don't make you a hero just because you're not out actively sinning by being a jerk. Just like the phrases "full inclusion" and "affirming" from above, I tend to find the word "ally" a little self-congratulatory. Congratulations you're not a jerk. Should I give you a medal? Sorry if that hurts your feelings. But I think it's worth noting. You can be a nice person, and still not be an ally.

I had an experience last year where someone approached me to say that I totally had their support, but not publicly. And I think to myself, I bet she thinks she's an ally. I bet she pats herself on the back and says "I did good." Can I request that the word "ally" be taken one step further like he did above? If you are not willing to "take any arrows," if you are not willing to take actual action to try to improve the experiences of people who are on the receiving end of those arrows, then you are not an ally. I interacted with people in our church last year who I'm sure would call themselves "allies" and yet allowed themselves to be weaponized against me, protecting the anonymity even of the person throwing those arrows. There was no attempt to catch those arrows or shield me from them. Only a concern for "justice" which in the end proved unnecessary. If there had been a little more concern for me, then they would have delved a little deeper before acting and would have caught some of those arrows instead of handing them to me or driving them in. Instead, sentences that included "I'm here to support you." would be followed by sentiments like "well you have to admit it's your fault for being openly gay" or "you should have known this would happen."

The same people who, if I told them I was offended by some bigoted and/or homophobic comment someone had made at church, would respond "just choose not to take offense." Those were the same people coming to me and telling me I needed to "filter more" to avoid making people uncomfortable. Where was the attitude that they have a responsibility to "not take offense" then? If you're going to have that attitude, it ought to go both ways so you don't become a hypocrite.  There's a longer conversation that could take place on that subject, but I won't delve into it now. Suffice it to say, that I think it would be more accurate to say "don't hold onto offense" instead of "don't take offense." But that's not really the point at the moment.

I've never found church policy all that painful. What I find painful is people. People who talk about you instead of to your face, people who never admit they were wrong. People who don't prioritize showing people consideration and/or respect. People who never apologize. People who will do the easy thing any day like say "I support you" but won't do the hard thing and actually show up how people need them to. People who insist they are "loving you" by doing X despite the fact that you have repeatedly communicated that they need to do Y for you to feel loved. People who don't listen to understand. People who think their silence and inaction relieves them of any responsibility for the things they are allowing to be said and done around them.

That presentation, and speaker made me more sad than anything else (not his fault).. Because he made it sound so easy and so simple. His demeanor absolutely exuded love and acceptance and it was beautiful and healing. And yet I felt an overwhelming sense of "nothing is going to change, people won't change, people don't care and I don't know when or if I'll ever feel at church, the way he makes me feel." And no one presentation will ever be enough to help the people who need it, change.. Too many will miss the point when it counts. Of course the shiny silver lining perspective here is that every drop in the ocean counts.

I'm reminded of a leadership training I also attended this weekend, where one of the teachers was discussing the notions of "line of authority" and "line of communication" and without those, messages from above don't always reach the right people, and even if they do, people just think "not my responsibility" and it doesn't get done. I know announcements regarding this event were sent to all the stakes in our area and yet we only had maybe 50 people in attendance. Majority of those people were probably those with some connection to a queer loved one (or queer themselves). I wonder if most who saw the invitation just thought "well that's not my responsibility" or "well I'm already an ally (not a jerk), I don't need to attend that", and of course "Super Bowl is more important." I'm not saying people should have to attend every fireside. I know we all get pulled a dozen different directions and feel pulled too thin and time for ourselves is also important. There's also the simple fact that because there was no line of communication in place for this event, lots of people simply missed the memo. But I wonder how many stopped to consider the message those 50 people received last night when they looked around at the attendance, and realized that helping LGBTQ+ people feel supported was not a priority to very many people. I suppose I hope most there were just grateful for those who did come. And I am, grateful.

I'm sorry this blog wasn't the most warm and fuzzy of my blogs. But it's what was on my heart today.

Hurt

To anyone who has asked me in the last few months how I was doing, and I answered fine, or good… I am sorry. I have not wanted to be dishonest, but how I’ve been doing has been complex, and wrapped up in a situation that has left me feeling censured, censored and judged... and quite honestly... attacked. And it’s a sensitive issue that while I feel strongly that I should be able to talk about, affects more than just me, and therefore shouldn’t be broadcast publicly. I have been trying desperately to protect everyone involved, while also trying to protect myself, even if not everyone feels that way. Mistakes have been made along the way all the way around… but I am trying and intent matters. In a lot of ways, this has been the worst year of my life. I just haven't felt like I could talk about it, and that is hard for me too. And at this point, I am trying to let it go.

The Facebook gremlins have been sending memes and posts my way that have been speaking to me and how I’ve been feeling for quite a while now, (darn those clever algorithms) and rather than keep sharing vague references to where I’m at I’ve been screenshotting them and saving them to a collective file of things that have resonated with me as I try to find the words for what to say.

I’m not sure I have those words, honestly. But I also need to speak.

I feel like my silence is being misconstrued. And what I have said on the matter has also been misconstrued. Know this... reading my blogs will never be a way to know exactly what I would say to someone about a specific issue because real conversations should be like living creatures that grow and change during open dialogue and earnest listening. Words should be tailored to the listener as you seek to care for that person and how they are feeling and what they understand. And the most important conversation I would have right now, can't happen. Therefore, there are things I have not said and will never say. I have done my best not to bring attention to the issue, which has been viewed as making light of the situation, and I feel the very opposite. It has meant more to me than any of you will ever understand. I have felt betrayed by all the onlookers aware of the situation who have never once sought to seek my perspective on the issue, whether they think they are offering me grace or not, to only listen to one side, and assume you know the whole story, is to deny and insult the other. And it hurts. I have always said that I will strive to honestly answer any sincere and direct question. But those aware of the situation, haven't been asking so it doesn’t matter. And there’s been a lot of dishonesty and faking it when it comes to the sincerity. 

I have always hoped that my blogs were a window. A way for people to see through the day-to-day fog of coping and striving for normality. I have always hoped that people trusted that it was an open window and not rose colored glass intended to obscure or alter your perception of my reality. I will continue to have that hope, but for now it is a guarded hope. I hate being misunderstood. I have never wanted to be viewed as unthoughtful or unrestrained. I have never wanted to be considered an enemy or as unworthy. I have never wanted to make choices that would result in those perceptions. I have never wanted to make anyone uncomfortable. I am just a person, trying to do the right thing. And I hate feeling like I can't trust people, because that is not my nature. But that's where I'm at right now.

I am a fixer, and I wish I could fix things. But I can't. I can do my best and someone can still misunderstand, and that is a burden I am trying not to carry. I am not perfect, but if I screw up I want to make it right. I want to be given the opportunity to try to make it right. It hurts to be denied that opportunity. It hurts to feel like people don't care about your feelings. It hurts to feel betrayed by people you trusted or hoped you could trust. It hurts to feel like you are dumped into a situation where you need to prove and defend your intentions and your attempts to do so don't make a difference and aren’t even heard. And I'm done trying. 

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland taught: “When you struggle, when you are rejected, when you are spit upon and cast out and made a hiss and a byword, you are standing with the best life this world has ever known, the only pure and perfect life ever lived. You have reason to stand tall and be grateful that the Living Son of the Living God knows all about your sorrows and afflictions”

I am trying to focus on my loving Heavenly Father and his understanding of me, when others cannot. I am grieving. And I am trying to learn a lesson in all this, even if no one else will. I am trying to find peace, and let people be wrong about me, and be okay with it. I am trying to still be someone who trusts people on the whole. I am trying to stand tall, and be grateful Christ knows me and loves me and has felt my tears, even when I am feeling rejected of men. I can't control how people perceive me, but I can try to be free from the burden of shame regardless by remembering that I am worthy of being loved, and my Savior knows me. So, in case you need that reminder, you are worthy of being loved too. And the Savior knows you too. Your best is good enough for Him, even when it isn't good enough for anyone else.

A Hiss and a Byword

A hiss and a byword among women. 
I have been labelled.
I have been described as an enemy.
I have been thought of as wicked.

A hiss and a byword among women. 
My intentions have been assumed, 
Yet all I yearned for was to help. I didn't.
That effort later stabs me in the back.

A hiss and a byword among women. 
I have been avoided.
I am the subject of hushed conversations.
The rumors more important than my truth.

A hiss and a byword among women. 
I am approached with fraudulent smiles,
Or perhaps they are smiles of pity.
Regardless, the dishonesty stains them.

A hiss and a byword among women. 
An assumption their silence provides safety,
For them? For me? I can't tell.
But it's all just lies. There is no safety in it.

A hiss and a byword among women. 
They think they know me,
Or that they don't need to know me.
But without talking to me, they cannot know.

A hiss and a byword among women. 
Some have thrown stones.
And some have refused to catch them.
It feels the same.

I am weary of the anger 
I am weary of the unrighteous judgement.
I am weary of the lies in the silence.
I am a hiss and a byword among women.

I am weary of betrayal.

I am weary of weaponized shame.

I am weary of the failure to apologize.

I am a hiss and a byword among men.

But I am more than a hiss and a byword to Him.

Relating to Lepers

I find myself pondering on the stories of lepers in the scriptures. Men and women who were cast out of their societies--left to feel like the only way they could survive or even feel another’s compassion was from a dollop of charity from strangers. Men and women who probably longed to feel normal and well. People who missed living amongst their brethren without fear of a disgusted side eye lingering in their direction. People who suffered daily without hope for a better tomorrow. People outcast for something they could not control because they were deemed dangerous. I imagine they felt invisible in their suffering and yet painfully obvious in their perceived uncleanliness. I imagine they struggled with their sense of self worth as they felt limited in their ability to contribute to society or be accepted by society. I imagine they mourned the loss of their skills and talents being accepted and utilized to serve others or provide for their families. I imagine they longed to reach out to people but felt no longer worthy to do so. I imagine they longed for human touch, but felt painfully aware of the potential consequences should they get that wish; and painfully aware of the potential recoil from the recipient. I imagine they prayed to God daily uncertain he was listening, or if they would even get response.  I suspect some of them wished they had been able to keep their condition secret even just a little while longer. I’m sure they often wished they could be cured, and I suspect sometimes they wished that they could just die. I'm sure sometimes they longed for feeling in the parts of themselves they had lost. Maybe sometimes the pain they felt seemed unbearable. And maybe sometimes that pain was the only thing reminding them that they were still alive. Perhaps sometimes they wanted to hurt themselves, because of those feelings. The pain of being constantly rejected, avoided, despised and pre-judged whether it be directly or indirectly.

This is often how being publicly gay makes me feel, especially lately. There have been bright wonderful moments from being out. There have. And there are people who love me. There are people who view me as being no different than before I was out. I think. People who judge me on my character and not some twisted version of what they deem me capable of simply because they are aware of my sexuality. There are people who see me for what they have seen me do, and not for what someone else says I've done. There are people who would defend me when I’m not in the room.

But there has also been the opposite. And it’s unfortunately easy to let the bad overwhelm the good. And admittedly, I am tired. I am tired of feeling like a leper. 

And the only healing those lepers found was in Jesus. I guess that’s something to remember. Healing won’t be found in anyone else, no matter how much I can hope for changed behavior or changed attitudes. And since Jesus isn’t walking around today, I think I have a greater obligation to seek Him, and seek healing in the right places. Perhaps easier said than done. Someone was telling me the other day about their scripture study in the "war chapters." I can't remember the exact chapter or I would reference it. But they mentioned that a comment was made that despite being in war, those were some of the happiest years of their lives. And I thought to myself... "I feel like I'm in a war chapter." And then I thought to myself "is it possible to make this the happiest year of my life?" And that sounds pretty hard, but also, I think immersing myself in Jesus and friends and family who focus on Jesus would make for a pretty good start. 

My husband said something yesterday about our trials being blessings offered to us by our Heavenly Father, because those trials pull us closer to Him. It is in the moments of our trials that we feel most inclined to pray and draw ourselves to Him. Sitting in a space last night intended to be a safe place for members of my church who identify as LGTBQ+ and their loved ones... I guess I was thinking, that I wasn't totally sure I'd ever sit in a space like that with my husband. And how grateful I am to be in that space with him, and other people willing to sit there with me. And my trials have brought me to that place. My trials have let me be vulnerable with people in ways I'm not sure I otherwise could. And those moments have let me feel more loved than I think I otherwise could. Someone at that meeting last night made the comment that we are afraid of intimacy. And we're not talking physical intimacy here, we're talking mental and emotional and spiritual connections that go beyond the static protected versions of ourselves we often portray. And I felt that. I've been afraid of intimacy with certain people. But finding that intimacy with the right people, often through our trials, can be a very faith affirming thing. A relationship affirming thing. A soul affirming thing. And when it happens, and you relax into that feeling, it feels far safer than any portrait of yourself that you normally portray. Those that make me feel like a leper will never know that intimate version of myself. But those that see past the depiction that would make me feel like a leper help me feel loved... in the way that I imagine Jesus loves me. And maybe a little less like a leper. I imagine with enough time in that space, maybe like a leper who has been healed by Jesus, who turns back around to cry aloud their gratitude to God. May we all find that place eventually.

Attracted but Married?

There's a part about identifying as gay, and staying in my church that I haven’t talked a lot about, and it’s balancing my “desire for women” with upholding the standard of not experiencing sexual relationships with the same-sex. Mainly I don’t talk about it because I’m married which obviously affects my experience. But maybe that needs to be said.

From time to time people have asked me why it matters that I’m attracted to women, if I’m married to a man. And that’s a fair question. Honestly, I ask myself that question a lot too. But it does affect how I interact with the world. Mostly at this point, because people know about my attraction to women, it becomes a perception issue. I spend a lot of emotional energy worried about how I’m interacting with people and hoping I’m not sending an unintentional message to anyone.

I’ve talked about this before, but because I am married, I am no longer “out shopping” so to speak. Therefore, I really don’t think about anyone in a sexual capacity except my husband. However, it’s not quite that simple. Male relationships and female relationships are obviously different. My male relationship bucket is filled by my husband, and he does an excellent job doing so. I love him and I know he loves me. But he obviously does not fill my female relationship bucket. Most women, straight or gay experience this. The concept that they need female friendship and companionship in addition to their male companions is normal. Right? Because of this I still actively seek female “companionship” in my life. And I have several women who help fill that “female bucket” but none of them fulfill it in any sexual capacity. And part of me mourns that, but as I said, I love my husband, and I’m not seeking a sexual relationship with any woman, let me make that clear, but I am seeking friendship.

However, because I am attracted to women, this gets a little tricky. There’s a passage in the book “Tender Leaves of Hope” by Meghan Decker, that addresses the difference between celibate straight women in the church vs celibate gay women in the church and it’s this: “your daughter can pray every day that she will meet someone and fall in love. A celibate gay member of the church prays every day that she won’t.” And that sums this up for me. There is a part of me with every new friendship I make that is praying every time that the switch won’t flip in my brain, and that I won’t develop an attraction for this person. Because I don't want to feel that painful pull. I mean I suppose I could just make a rule to only be friends with blondes because I know they’re not my type at all (no offense ladies!)… but that seems like a rather arbitrary and limiting qualifier for friendship 😝

I’m currently reading the book “The Holy Covenants: Living Our Sacred Temple Promises” by Anthony Sweat and there’s some interesting passages about the law of chastity in there, but one line I want to share is this: “….the innate human desire to create children, form families, and have intimate union with someone symbolized in sexual expression is heaven sent….”

And that simply and beautifully illustrated something of what I feel about women. My brain is not sitting here desperately wishing to have sex with women. My husband keeps me happy. But my instinct is to yearn for a deeper union with a woman, and at least in this life, it feels like that deeper union is symbolized through the physical acts we attribute to sexual expression. I love to know and understand women on a deeper level. I do. And in my brain it makes logical sense that the next step of that would be symbolized through sexual expression. But because I am married, I do not want any of my friendships to progress to the point of wanting that with them. I’m terrified of it, honestly. Because I know that the instant that were to happen, I would need to back off and distance myself from that relationship, and I don’t want that because I love my friends. But more importantly, I love my husband more and so I will choose to back away from someone I deem to be a possible temptation every single time.

Recently I’ve had the experience of someone believing that I was attracted to them. I won’t go into a lot of details about this, but the short and sweet of it is that I am not, nor have I ever been attracted to this person. But in reflecting on that situation I have realized that when there is no attraction for me, and I trust their character, and there is a perceived friendship and mutual trust, I have the tendency to get more relaxed in my interactions. I trust they know my character and that I wouldn’t want to betray my husband. I trust that they care about me enough to look past my awkward moments and see them for what they were... awkward moments. I trust that I can be myself without stressing so much about filtering myself. This becomes a problem if they don’t have that sense of trust in my character or our friendship that I hope they have. Misunderstandings abound. In my last blog post I talked about discussing boundaries with people. And I realized I never did that with this person because nothing about our relationship indicated to me that I would need to. I wasn’t spending one-on-one time with this person that would potentially indicate a need for boundaries. I regret that my communications were able to be misconstrued and caused discomfort. But something that came out of this I suppose is just a reminder that boundaries are a good thing to discuss with people even when you don’t feel your relationship puts you in positions where you feel it would be necessary because you never fully know where someone else’s head is at.

I’m still not sure exactly what that will look like, because I don’t often discuss the gay thing with my more shallow friendships unless they bring it up. And for those of you who have experienced me “coming out” to you personally, you know that I am not graceful about it. I am awkward and sometimes confusing. And I don’t always feel it’s necessary to talk to people about it because it doesn’t define everything about me…. Nor do I really think I should feel forced to discuss it. Maybe it just needs to be something as simple as "please know that it will never be my intention to make you uncomfortable, and I hope you will tell me if I ever cross any lines."

It's important for me to remember that while I am hoping and praying with every friendship that I make, that the switch for attraction won’t get flipped in my head, that my friends are probably experiencing something similar: a silent and perhaps unrealized prayer that I won’t be attracted to them. And that is perhaps worth addressing for the long term comfort of everyone involved even if it is awkward.

In short, not acting on my sexual attraction to women for me… most tangibly comes down to a desire to be faithful to my husband. But it remains an active balancing act in my life. And I'm still learning.

Managing Female Friendships

We all remember that Emily is gay. Right? 

So the other day, I recounted to a friend, the first day I had met a mutual friend of ours. It was their first day at church after moving to our town. We were having a discussion about how awareness and understanding of our divine identity affects our lives. I ended up feeling prompted to share with the whole room of women, that defining myself only as gay felt very limiting, but that focusing on my identity as a daughter of God was very freeing in that it encompassed all of me, including being gay, and made room for me to be so much more than just one thing. It was perhaps an awkward moment but also a good one. 

Anyway, when the meeting ended, as part of leadership I felt obligated to approach the new girl and try to make her feel welcomed. Got her number, (which, after a gay-confession felt really uncomfortable to ask for), and I texted her the info for our park play date group and book club. 

I texted a few random get to know you questions to this person over the coming weeks and felt increasingly awkward as time went on. The fact of the matter was that I had never tried to become friends with someone where the fact that I was gay was the absolute first thing they knew about me. It felt like the giant elephant in the room. 

Anyway, remember this was a story I was telling a friend? So, in this moment she asked me a question. She asked if I thought that knowing this about me would somehow change something for that friend. To which I responded with an emphatic yes. (But let me just say there was something comforting about this person acting under the assumption that knowing this would NOT change anything). Of course it’s difficult to tell how much of any situation is actually there, and how much of it is just in my head, but to me, any time someone finds out that I’m gay it feels like there is instantly a different level of accountability. Anything I do could be evaluated on a level of “what if this were a man doing this.” Any touch could be misinterpreted, any glance could be misinterpreted, questions or expectations can be misunderstood. I worry about it a lot.

So how do I deal with this? Well, let’s continue using this story of this mutual friend as an example. Initially I wasn’t too stressed about it because my first impression was that I was never going to be close with this person and therefore their acceptance of me didn’t matter too much because they weren’t important enough for me to care what they thought of me. But as time went on I felt myself feeling inclined to trust this person, so I decided I needed to approach the elephant in the room and find out if there was any issue or discomfort that would stem from it before I let myself care. So we talked about it. Reassurances were made that I was not sexually attracted to her, and she was 100% straight. But also, reassurances were made that my attractions in general did not make her uncomfortable. And honestly it took a few times of being reassured before I let myself really sit in that assurance. 

As we started spending more one on one time together I asked her to speak with her husband and make sure that he knew and was also comfortable with me spending time with his wife. We discussed boundaries, and I made it clear that I never wanted to cross any. I requested that she be open in communicating with me if I ever did anything to make her uncomfortable so that I could adjust accordingly. I told her that I never expected her to keep secrets from her husband. And I have regularly reinforced that her husband comes first. Honestly this helps reinforce in my brain not to expect or hope for anything different. I had a similar conversation with my husband too, but instead of “hey my friend Emily is gay, are you okay” it was a reassurance “hey my friend Suzie is straight, and there’s nothing there.” Because I don’t want him to ever have to wonder. And I encourage him that he can ask too. Not that every friendship follows that example to the letter. I was far more pointed in this situation because again, first friendship where the person knew I was gay right off the bat.. But I think it makes a point.

My husband can see my location on his phone. He knows the passcode to my phone. He may not always remember the password to my email 😅, but my email is permanently logged into my computer which he also has easy access to. We have a no-secrets rule. That doesn’t mean I tell him everything that my friends tell me, because confidentiality is not the same as a secret. And it doesn’t mean he roots around in my phone but we both know the option is there and it’s ok because there’s nothing to hide. He and I both know that our marriage will always be first priority, and anything that has the power to affect our relationship will always be shared. 

When I am spending one on one time with someone, I tend to ignore my phone because I want them to know that my focus is on them in that moment. And if my phone is blowing up, then I’ll put it on silent. But my husband’s texts always ring through. And unless the moment is super sensitive like they’re telling me something while in tears kinda moment, then I make it a priority to respond to his texts promptly so that he knows I am thinking of him and he comes first. 

People who knew me in high school might remember that I was extremely touchy feely. I didn’t have a space bubble and most of my friends didn’t either. Now days, I tend to be far more strict with how I touch people. For years I stopped initiating touch with female friends entirely - no hugs, no hands on the arm, nothing. It was something I felt like I needed to do so that there were no questions and no temptations… but eventually I decided that I needed to respect that touch is important to me and how I feel and express love, and I needed to start allowing myself to adjust that boundary. That is still a new thing for me, and I’m still very self conscious about it. If I just touched your arm in the midst of our conversation you can bet that I thought about it both before and after to evaluate if I thought there was any chance it could have communicated anything other than friendship, or if it was safe to do. There is still a vast difference between how I interact with people physically now, and how I interacted in high school, and honestly sometimes I still long for more. But for now, where I’m at feels safe and doesn’t risk being inappropriate. 

And in the rare case that I feel like there is either the possibility that a friend could be attracted to me or that I could be attracted to her, then I instantly put up additional boundaries. I don’t let myself feel as vulnerable with them because I don’t want to open a door for emotional intimacy. I don’t let myself hang out with them after 10pm. Things like that. 

Perhaps that answers the question, how Emily manages female friendships. You know what I love most about my favorite friendships? They tend to teach me things that help me have a better relationship with my husband, and my Heavenly Father. Cuz I have good friends. That reminds me of the most important part of how I manage female friendships... I have the trust, love and support of my husband. It wouldn’t work without that and I won’t risk losing that.