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.