70. The Fence

So, Willie Hewes asked me a question the other day.  She asked me where I stood on the whole Side A/B thing.  I’ll clarify, for those of you who are new to the game.

Side A is the side that believes that God does bless same-sex monogamous relationships.  Side B believes that God calls all gay people to celibacy… and a new term coined by Eric from Two World Collision is Side X, which believes that God ‘heals’ gay people (turns us straight) if we try and believe hard enough.  And then there is the term that defines me.  Side C… the point directly between A and B.  No man’s land… uncharted territory.

So, to answer your question, Willie Hewes, I’m nowhere. I still have not come to a conclusion.  But thinking about it reminded me of a dream I had a few years ago.  Funnily enough, I can tell you the date, because I woke up from it and immediately emailed a friend of mine, and I’m kind of an email pack-rat so I still have a copy of that email.  I’ll just copy and paste it here – editing only for spelling and grammar (mainly punctuation and capitalization).  The dream I had on Thursday, February 26, 2004 was as follows:

In my dream I guess I'd joined a gay club or group or something. I don't know if I dreamed the meeting and I've just forgotten, or if the dream picked up after the meeting. But what I remember is the parking lot after the meeting. I'd obviously just joined and didn't know a lot of people. But I was looking around and people seemed so happy. There were a few couples, some guys holding hands, some girls kissing...it felt so nice. Easy. I had a feeling like "Why have I been fighting this. This is where I belong." I was talking with this nice Asian guy and I spotted this girl I thought was pretty. This part of the dream went on for a while, but there's not much to say about it except that it felt so nice and safe and kind of like “Finally!"   And then I heard something. The building we (the gay club)were in was either right behind a church, or the church was right behind it...we sort of shared a parking lot...sort of...the logistics aren't important. The thing is, the worship team from the church had stepped outside I guess to warm up and were singing a song -- something about Eternal Father...again, not sure if it was a real song or one my head just made up. They were very good. And it hurt so much. I stood there, among my new group of friends and my heart was literally aching. Someone from the worship team realized we were out there, and gestured to his friends and, still singing, they went inside, so as not to disturb us. I couldn't take it anymore, I tried to hide it for a while, but I actually broke down sobbing. After a few moments the Asian guy said,  "It's hard, I know", and I realized he had been singing along with the worship team...not in their group or anything, but when he heard them he  just started singing. We were starting to talk about it, or he was, because I was crying so hard, and then my alarm went off.

So, here I am, living in that parking lot.  Not in the gay world, not in a church… at least not right now in Korea.  But even back in Canada, where I am a part of (and quite involved in) a church I don’t feel like I’m fully participating because part of me is always closed off and hidden when I’m there.  Even from those who know, because as loving and accepting as they have been, I do not feel comfortable being fully me around them.  For example, I don’t feel that any of them would be comfortable with my expressing any level of attraction for another woman, unless I was ‘confessing’ it as something I was ‘guilty’ of.  And as I don’t enjoy feeling guilty all the time, I just don’t mention it.

Now, that having been said, I’m experiencing something quite new to me here in Korea.  I’m used to being judged from the church/religious side.  That, for the most part, just rolls of my back now.  I’m not used to the judgment from the other side that I’m getting from my friends here.  The absolute bafflement at the fact that I am a 30 year old voluntary virgin, that I believe that sex is something sacred, and that even if I were to firmly land in the Side A camp tomorrow, that doesn’t mean I would be having sex with a woman any time soon.  And beyond bafflement, the attitude that I need to stop believing what I believe and just jump into the deep end of sexual activity in order to be fully realized as a person is unbelievable.  I mean, I’ve actually been told that I can’t possibly understand myself fully until I’ve had sex.   And I’ve taken that statement and made it less blunt and patronizing than it was originally.  

What this is making me realize is that this middle ground I’ve been occupying for what seems like ages can’t be maintained forever.  Eventually I’ll have to choose sides… nobody likes a fence sitter.

69. Happy Canada Day!

Man, if ever there is a time I miss living in Ottawa (the capitol city of our great Dominion, for those of you who don't know), today is the day. The day usually begins with a Canada Day Brunch at my friend M.B.'s house, and then take a walk around Ottawa. I usually go with a bunch of friends to watch the fireworks on The Hill at around 9:00 (again, that's Parliament Hill), and I've even stuck around for the massive concert afterwards. It's just a good time.

But today I am in Korea. The Canadian Embassy threw their party last weekend, and from what I understand, pretty much no one went, cause, well... it was a week early! I guess they wanted the day off as much as anyone else. I know my coworkers (who are all Canadian -- at least the ones that count are, anyway) are all going out tonight, but I am not among them. I would either end up out with "Lick My Boob" girl (which is unappealing for obvious reasons), or end up among the sea of couples that are going out with S. and D. Neither option is really sounding great to me. So I will stay here, wishing I was home, and probably playing around with some video I took of my kids yesterday.

I actually do have some blog relevant thoughts to share, but I'm not in the mood to write anything serious. I want to be drinking mimosas and eating breakfast quiche at M.B.'s house. For today, I am quite homesick.

68. The End of Wednesday Nights

I mentioned in my previous post that my coworkers and I go out for dinner on Wednesday night, and usually end up heading out to a local bar afterwards. Well, today was Wednesday, and we followed our usual pattern. It's a good pattern, I really enjoy it. The title of this post is not referring to the end of this routine, but to the way Wednesday nights now end.

The night begins with the 4 of us at dinner, and then 3 of us head to the bar... and then we would go home. I live next door to S. (as I've mentioned a few times) and so we would usually walk to our apartment building, say goodbye to D. and go home together, but now that S. and D. are together things are different. There's a point, during our time at the bar, when I can sort of feel how they both are eager to leave so they can be alone... that's an awesome feeling. And then there's the walk home, which is awesome because I'm dreading the moment when we get to the door and then I have to somehow extricate myself from them without seeming rude, even though I know that they can't wait for me to leave. Up until tonight, I had to do it in such a way as to somehow pretend that I didn't realize that S. wasn't coming with me... it was weird. Tonight, I just walked into the building when we got home, sort of waving goodbye behind me. D. called after me, "What, you're not going to stay for the awkward goodbye?", and S. followed with "Please, come back and stand around..." To which I, somewhat bitterly I admit, responded "Sure, because that's fun."

I'm not mad at them, the situation is what it is. I just hate the fact that I have an awesome time until that point hits in the bar, and then it goes from fun straight to torture. Being a third wheel? Not fun. Thanks to the wonder of the birth control pill (which I'm on for medical reasons) I know that I'm PMSing, but nevertheless, that sensation had me on the verge of tears tonight, which was why I walked away from them so quickly. I realize that it was rude, but I think bursting into tears in front of them would have been worse.

I don't like this feeling, and it happens all the time. Everybody but me eventually pairs off. I am the spare part that they keep around in case they need me at some point.

No, that's not true, and is really unnecessarily grim and depressing. But whittle it down to something more palatable and realistic and you'll get something close to the truth, I think.

Anyway, that's how I'm feeling tonight. I'll be over it tomorrow, and will go through it all again next week, but I won't be PMSing, so it shouldn't be as bad.

67. Parched

To begin with an aside, my computer has completely crapped out on me. I've left in the hands of D. (one of my coworkers) who will hopefully uncrappify it (yes, I made up a word, sue me). I feel very naked without my computer. Especially living so far from home. All of my friends are sort of in my computer (via MSN, Skype, etc...) so not having it also sort of isolates me.

Oh, in case you are curious, I'm writing this in an internet cafe... or what is more accurately called a "PC Bang". It's a pretty neat setup, the computers are fast, and the chair is insanely comfortable. But I want my computer back!

Okay, on to the subject at hand. I had a weird experience the other day that I thought I'd share. My coworkers and I go out for dinner together every Wednesday night (it breaks up the week quite nicely), and often after dinner we go out to this nice bar (with nice couches and a huge library of English music) afterwards and just talk. I can't remember exactly how the conversation progressed, but I got talking about my recruiter (the man who found my job here for me) and how creepy he was when he picked me up from the airport. Actually, he wasn't creepy then, he was creepy in the car on the way home... he kept stroking my thigh as he talked to me. It was a little bit unsettling. Anyway, as I was talking I reached over without thinking and demonstrated the 'thigh stroking' on S. (my neighbour). And that's when the weird thing happened.

Have you ever seen the ground so dry that it's all cracked? Have you ever poured water on ground like that? For a few moments you can see the water, shiny, and reflecting back at you, and then a few seconds later, the earth just sucks it up and it's like it was never there. Well, that's what it was like when I touched her leg. I hadn't done it with any intention or desire, but the moment my hand made contact I felt... something. Like a drinking sensation. Like I was dying of thirst, and there, in my hand, was water.

Needless to say, it kind of freaked me out. It was a very pleasant sensation, but I pulled my hand away, and like water on parched earth, it was gone in a few minutes.

No, I am not attracted to S. At least, I'm fairly certain I'm not. I conducted a few thought experiments when I got home because I was worried, and I passed. (Heh, I think the 'thought experiments' I did would probably freak a few of my friends out, but whatever, I just had to make sure). I think it was just the contact.

S., of course, isn't the first woman I've touched... I'm a fairly physically affectionate person, and most of my friends are women. I'm not sure what made this different. It's not the first time I've touched someone and felt 'something', but usually that happens with someone I'm actually attracted to. I don't really know what to make of this. Maybe I'm just sort of starving... or to continue my metaphor more accurately, dehydrated.

I don't know what to say, really. I don't know if it means anything at all, if it was just a fluke or what. It just happened.

I do know that yet again, I find myself watching as a friend (or in this case, friends) of mine go through the process of developing a romance. I like them both, and am therefore happy for them. I will mention some selfish concerns I have. I was excited about them getting together because D.'s contract ends soon (he'll continue teaching, just in another city) and I was hoping S. might convince him to stay, but it looks like she (I admit, wisely) will not be doing that, and... and this is my big one, I suspect that S. will move to another apartment when D. leaves, which will mean I will get a new neighbour who I probably won't like as much. But I can deal with that. I can deal with a lot. I just don't know that I can deal with constantly knowing that I am never going to be first for anyone. Not that I was ever first for either S. or D., but I am now aware of the fact that part of the reason we were hanging out so much together was because they wanted to hang out with each other, and with me in the mix, they could do it without being over-obvious about their feelings.

I'm just consistently getting 'bumped down', priority-wise, when these relationships begin, and I'm kind of tired of it. I want to be a priority for someone. It would be kind of nice. I know from experience that there are times when I will really need to talk to someone and will not be able to find anyone to talk to. That has happened to me more than once, more than a twice... more times than I care to count actually. It's not that I expect anyone to put me ahead of their husband/wife/boyfriend/girlfriend... it's just that, well... it would just be nice to be higher up on people's lists than I seem to be. And I know that sounds selfish, and I suppose it is, but the thing is, because I don't have a husband/wife/girlfriend/boyfriend, the friends I have are way up there on my list. I don't have prior committments, I can drop things and come when they call, I am almost always available when they need me. It just doesn't seem to work the other way, at least not anymore that pretty much all of them are married, or on their way to being married.

Phew. Once again, writing this out has caused me to veer off of my original topic. I think I'll just leave it that way for now. Especially because I'm paying for this time by the minute.

66. Envy

So, there’s some drama going on among my coworkers right now.  One of my coworkers, an awesome guy I will call D. has asked my neighbour (S.) out.  He’s had a thing for her for a while and finally, on Friday, screwed up the courage to act on it.  I’m not sure if anything is going to come of it, because there are extenuating circumstances that I’m not going to get into here, but I’m kind of pushing for it…

What does this have to do with me?  Well… he took her out on a date and clearly explained his feelings for her and got a goodnight kiss out of the deal.  I realize that a goodnight kiss isn’t that big a deal, but having never had one (at least not from anyone I really cared to be kissed by), my initial reaction to hearing this news was envy.  

Not specific envy.  My neighbour S. is awesome, and attractive and I have no idea why I’m not attracted to her (and I’m not going to think about it too much because I’m quite happy not being attracted to her and I don’t want that to change if I can help it), but I wasn’t envious of D. getting to kiss her specifically.  I was just jealous that his ‘confession’ yielded fruit (minimal as it was).  

For some reason I tend to tell girls that I’m attracted to about my feelings for them.  It’s a guilt thing, I think.  I feel guilty for the feelings I experience, and then I feel bad for the girls that I’m attracted to because there is a dynamic to the relationship that they are unaware of.  I feel guilty for every time that they touch me and I get butterflies, and they have no idea.  I feel guilty because I know (or believe) that if I they were aware of my feelings that they would act differently and so I feel that I should give them the opportunity to act that way.  It’s weird, I know, but it’s a pattern I’ve followed.

The thing is, never once have my ‘confessions’ borne any kind of fruit… never once have I made one of these confessions and even had a glimmer of hope for fruit.  I honestly don’t know what it feels like to even just think that someone I have feelings for might possibly have feelings for me.  My throat is clenching up just thinking about it.  That’s a pretty basic thing I’ve missed out on.  

Actually, I’m just realizing that I’ve lied, at least a little.  One girl I told about my feelings did hold my hand for about 10 seconds afterwards, and that 10 seconds was the most romantic 10 seconds of my life.  Even though she only held my hand out of pity.  

Man, what straight people take for granted.  The freedom to feel what they feel.  The freedom to express what they feel.  The freedom to hope.  The freedom to try.  I suppose I could do all of those things if I chose, but I’m still in between here.  I don’t know what I believe, Side A, Side B… it’s all so confusing.  I keep hoping that something will just click and I’ll know, I’ll know which side is right, but that isn’t happening.  So here I am, watching people live their lives around me, and I live my half-life here… in limbo.  (I’m still in a funk, in case you didn’t catch on.)

Anyway, it’s a gorgeous day, so I think I’ll go outside and let the sun burn away some of this angst.

65. Lonely

Yes, I am descending into typical blogger angst. I have no idea what has brought this on, but I have been in a funk for a couple of weeks and have only recently diagnosed myself as lonely.

I know that I am in a foreign country, and some of this is to be expected, but honestly, I haven't felt like this for years... and I've done a fair amount of living in foreign countries in that time. I get along awesomely with my coworkers (drinking nights notwithstanding), and have become particularly close with the girl who moved in next door, which is awesome.

But I'm lonely.

Part of it is my own fault. She is my main friend here, and because of that, I'm so careful not to 'cling'. I've done a bit of sucking people dry in the past (when I was in my depression) and I am so leery of doing it again that I know I've built some walls to stop that from happening. Plus I happen to know that even since then there have been times I've been perceived as clingy -- well, it only happened once, and it was a result of a series of misunderstandings, but still... it's a sensitive issue for me, so I have probably become even more reserved since then.

But there are other things going on. There's something that's been bothering me, and I can't really talk to her about it because... well, it's something I hate to talk about. Like, I really hate to talk about it. But here it is, because I need to express this. I've mentioned a few times here that I am overweight. This is a sensitive issue for me even back in Canada (in part because it is the first thing both of my parents think about when they think of me... lovely)... but it is even more sensitive here in Korea, where I am surrounded by Asians who are typically quite petite. The children commenting on it doesn't bother me because they can say both "you're fat, teacher" and "you're beautiful, teacher" in the same sentence and mean them both equally. There is no judgment in their statements. But the adults are another story. I get pointed and stared at in the street all the time, and my boss... oy, he's just plain rude. At first I chalked it up to a cultural thing, but I've noticed that he doesn't say the things he says to me when we're alone when anyone else is around... so he knows that they're inappropriate comments. What this is doing to me internally is that I am getting way more self-conscious than I am normally (and I'm normally quite self-conscious). What happens is that when I'm in a group of people, I suddenly become aware that they can see me and I become incredibly nervous and want to hide. I've had conversations where I realize that it probably seems like I'm lying because I can't make eye contact (or my eyes become really 'shifty'), but the reason I'm not making eye contact is because I've suddenly become afraid and am trying to hide it. It's frightening because I remember that feeling from when I was at my lowest, and I really don't want to be back there again.

Part of the reason I can't talk to my neighbour about this is because I hate talking about this, but the other reason is that she is a health nut. Like, she gets up at 5:30 every morning and runs for at least an hour. She knows the caloric content of pretty much everything that goes in her mouth. You name a sport, and she's played it, on a team... she probably has trophies. I just can't imagine discussing body image issues with someone like that.

Now, I'm big... that is a fact, but I'm not unhealthy... I went for a battery of tests before I came here (at my mother's behest) and all my tests came back saying that I am in excellent health. My cholesterol is actually better than most people, my blood sugar is well within the norm, by blood pressure is also within the norm... the only health concern I actually have is that I'm anemic (which seems kind of funny to me because I picture anemic people as kind of reedy and wan... the opposite of me). In Canada I'm more active than I am now... I go for long walks, I like to swim, to bike; I even go to the gym occasionally. Here, I do none of those things because doing any of them gets me stared at. My neighbour takes Tai Kwon Do here, and I've been invited to join, and I would love to... it would be a fun cultural experience I think, but I can't imagine doing it and not being terrified... like to the point of tears. People pointing, laughing, whispering... giggling. It's horrifying to me, the stuff of nightmares.

Heh, so I guess there's more going on than simple loneliness, but that is a part of it. I want to hang out with people and not feel judged. Not judged for my appearance, not judged for my beliefs, not judged for my sexuality, not judged for my sexual history (or more to the point, my lack of a sexual history)... not judged at all. And I don't feel that here. With the exception of my boss, no one has actually said anything overtly judgmental towards me, but I feel it anyway. And it makes me lonely.

64. Attention Straight People:

Okay, so again, I have let things slide. Sorry. I've just gotten really busy. My coworkers and I are getting along awesomely and have been going out almost every night after work. Not going out drinking or anything (well, sometimes), mostly just going out for dinner and talking until the wee hours... it's just so much fun. We actually had a massive 'religion' talk until 2 am the other night, with two of my coworkers just peppering me with questions. Even the 'drinking nights' have been cool because no one has felt the need to force me to drink, so we go out to some bar, and talk until 2 am, I drink water or Coke, and they drink whatever and we have some awesome talks. It's all good...

Well, it was all good until Friday night. And that's where the title of this post comes in. The message to straight people is this: "My sexuality is not a toy. Nor is it something I do to amuse you, so back off!"

What happened on Friday? Not that much actually. I will preface this with some info. First bit of info: My coworkers all know I'm gay now (well not the Korean staff, but all of us English speakers -- well, all but one of us English speakers, but the one who doesn't know sort of doesn't count). Second bit: I personally don't believe that drinking is a sin... I know many Christians do, but I see no Biblical foundation for that belief, so I don't have a problem with it. I don't drink to get drunk... I don't even really like alcohol, or the sensation of being drunk (yes, I've been drunk a few times). When I do drink, it is quite honestly just to be social or polite. And on Friday night, I don't know that it would have been possible to avoid because of the language barrier between us and the service staff -- they barely understood us when we were ordering the drinks we did, I doubt they would have understood anything about my wanting some sort of non-alcoholic beverage (for those of you who don't know, I'm in Korea right now). Anyway, I had a few on Friday... nowhere near enough to get me drunk, although I think I was a little buzzed for most of the night (I forget sometimes that fruity, girly drinks can get you drunk too). My friends, of course, had way more than me and were quite plastered, and that's when things started to happen that were pissing me off. The night had been really fun and then there were shots... and body shots (which, for those who don't know, is when you drink a shot off of a person's body), and dirty shots of Tequila (when you lick the salt off of a person's skin, and then do the shot). I suddenly had one of my coworkers, who I really like otherwise, standing over me, having smeared salt on her cleavage, holding a shot of Tequila and yelling at me, "Lick my boob! You know you want to! Come on! Lick it! Lick it!" I was literally cowering away from her, but as I looked around, I realized everyone was staring and laughing. I was pinned between her in front of me (and she's kind of an Amazon) and others behind me, all really wanting to watch me do this. I did it, to get her off of me, and then ran to the bathroom to calm down because I was so pissed off. I sat there, on the toilet just fuming... do they think that I, as a gay woman, am just so grateful to have a boob in front of me that I'll just do whatever? I'm sure in her drunken state she was thinking how awesome it must have been for me, and how kind she was to allow me the privilege, but it wasn't at all. It was horrifying and humiliating. I didn't really know how to explain it to her, and I doubt it would have mattered. (She actually did follow me into the bathroom a few minutes later, because she thought I was throwing up, and I let her believe that because... well, I have a strategy of pretending I'm a lot drunker than I actually am so that people stop buying me drinks. They seriously just can't seem to comprehend that I actually just don't like it.) But seriously, do you honestly think I want to do something in public that I haven't even done in private? With someone I'm actually not attracted to? With everyone watching? It was kind of a nightmare.

And then there were the constant threats (of course, I'm sure they weren't meant this way) of 'getting me laid'. Actually, these statements were made by the same girl, so maybe it's just her I'm annoyed with, and I should remember that it's just her when she's really drunk that I'm annoyed with. After a certain point in the night, that was pretty much all she was saying to me -- "We're gonna get you laid girl! That's what friends are for! Don't you worry...blah, blah, blah..." I really was containing my anger at this point because I kind of wanted to scream at her. What would I have screamed? I apologize in advance for the profanity but here it is: "Would you please recognize that there is an element of choice in the way I have led my life, and STOP SHITTING ALL OVER IT!!!"

We're all going on vacation together in the Philippines in a couple of months (well, the girls anyway, there are male staff, but they're not coming) and I'm kind of dreading it now. Well, that's probably putting it a bit strongly, but there are elements of the vacation that worry me. I really like this girl when she's sober, but I imagine that she won't be sober for most of our vacation... Oy.

Anyway, it's been nice to get this off of my chest... and sorry for the huge gap in posts.

63. Thank God for Buddha

Well, I’m in the middle of the last 3 hours of a 3 day weekend granted me by Buddha’s birthday, which apparently was on Friday. Man, this weekend was sorely needed though, it was getting down to the wire. We were all about to snap.

I don’t really have anything to say, but I thought that since it has been a while since I blogged, and I’ve got time so I might as well just write something. So, I thought I’d respond to some of the comments. And the first thing I thought I’d talk about is the Smurfs (mentioned briefly in my previous post). Because they are very important.

Actually, I have very little to say about the Smurfs. I’m not sure why I wasn’t allowed to watch them, there was something about demons or witches or something. But I never did. When I got old enough to think for myself, I tried to watch an episode just to see what I missed, but I couldn’t do it. Not because of guilt or anything, but because it is a horrible show! Their voices, their little, blue, creepy bodies… ugh. And that theme song! Maybe there is something demonic there, because like I said, I never watched the show but that song gets stuck in my head sometimes and it annoys the crap out of me.

Now I think I’ll answer a more serious comment left by Shannon asking why I haven’t told my dad that I’m gay. I think I should back up and say that I never told my mom that I was gay. She found out due to some rather annoying circumstances. The first Christian that I ever told that I was gay was an old pastor of mine. And I was so nervous before meeting with her that I wrote down what I planned to say to her. The morning I was supposed to meet with her, I had a bit of a panic attack and went to a friend’s house (a non-Christian friend who knew I was gay and had encouraged me to meet with my pastor about it), and when I got there I realized that I had forgotten my notes. She helped me recreate them, I went to the meeting, all went well, and I went home and threw out my notes… the second set – in my relief I completely forgot about the first set. A few months later, my mom came to visit and was “helping” me clean (I put that in quotes because I almost never want my mom helping me clean because to her it means ‘snoop’.) For some reason, she decided to ‘help’ me sort through my files and papers -- something I had by no means asked her to do, and I can’t believe she thought would be okay (going through another person’s papers is a big no-no as far as I can tell. It would never even enter my mind to do that, even if I thought it would help, unless someone specifically told me to). Anyway, tucked into my papers was my original set of notes.

That night my mom confronted me about it, and I told her I was meeting with my pastor regularly to discuss the matter. I knew at the time that my mom would interpret this to mean that I was going for ex-gay counseling, and I totally let her believe that… mostly because this all blindsided me – I was not prepared for that conversation at all. A year later my mom asked me how those meetings were going, and how the gay stuff was and I told her that I hardly ever thought about the gay stuff at all anymore – which, at the time was true. I didn’t mean that I wasn’t gay anymore, I just meant that it had moved to the back of my mind. I was thinking about other issues more, such as grace, and spiritual disciplines. That was actually a really good year for me. I said what I said to my mom rather flippantly, and this time I didn’t realize what she took it to mean, which was that I had been ‘cured’.

About a year later, it came up again, and this time it was not good. I can’t really remember how it started, but my mom was going on and on about my future husband, and how, if I wanted to marry I had to learn how to be a wife and mother, etc… At this point I was firmly in camp B (instead of the unstable ground between Side A and B) and believed that celibacy was the only answer, and I was sick of the constant “so, when are you going to find a man” talk that I have had shoved in my face since I was about 21. So after listening to her going on and on about how my purpose was to be a wife for what seemed like forever I finally told her that I didn’t think I was ever going to marry, that I couldn’t ever marry a man because I was gay. Well… it was not pretty. She actually accused me of pretending to be gay to ‘get back at her’… which was hilarious, because the first time I ever told my mom I was gay was when I was 11 (if you read this post, you’ll also know that I quickly told her I was fixed after that). There were things said about my church and my pastors, demonic possession, etc… it was very unpleasant. She almost never brings it up anymore, which is fine by me.

As far as my dad is concerned, he’s already disappointed because I’m not a breathtaking beauty. The best he can come up with as far as a compliment is concerned is that I’m “cute”. He doesn’t approve of the way I dress, the way I look, and most importantly (to both my parents, annoyingly enough) how much I weigh. And I do remember once using the word “butch” to describe someone (funnily enough, it was a man I was talking about – butch to me has always meant simply ‘strong and good with tools’) and he strongly cautioned me against using that word because it had a very disgusting meaning. It was a while before I actually put 2 and 2 together and got ‘homophobic father’. He’s mellowed since then, and it’s possible that he would be quite loving and accepting when someone gay actually turned out to be his daughter (He does love me very much, that is a fact I’m sure of), but our relationship is a bit too fragile for me to risk that. I do have an aunt on his side who once told me that it would be okay if I was a lesbian (she probably had just figured it out at that point) when I was about 18 or 19 and had yet to have had a boyfriend. But no, I have no intention of telling him, or any more members of my family. And if I could remove the information from my mother’s brain, I would. I’m a bit of a coward.

In other, less serious news, I’ve been playing around with YouTube and thought I’d share some of my recent finds with you. I think I’ve mentioned Ani Difranco a few times on this blog. She is one of my absolute heroes. A genius, a singer, a poet… just incredible. Here’s a clip of her singing her song “Swim”.


Ani also does a lot of spoken word poetry, and here’s a clip of her at the Def Poetry Jam. She is, as one of my coworkers would so deftly put it, the cat's ass.


Anyway, that's all I've got for you today. Later, Gators!

62. Stuff

Did I ever tell you all about the therapist my mom and I went to to deal with our ‘stuff’? We had this two week fight, which I ended by saying “Okay, I’m done talking about this now, we need to see a therapist.”

Well, we found one who lived pretty much right in between us (2 hours away from me, 3 hours away from my mom) and we went to see her twice. She was quite sick then, she actually at one point cancelled two appointments because she was unable to see us. I was originally quite hopeful about the appointments but then, well, they sort of turned out to do more harm than good. Part of the reason was that we were only able to see her 3 times, which just isn’t enough to get through anything significant. Another reason was that during one of her private meetings, my mom told her that I was gay. This honestly, had nothing to do with our problems (we were dealing with communication issues that go back to pretty much preschool), but it of course became this huge issue. During one of our private meetings, the therapist talked all around the ‘gay issue’, until I just said “Just to clear the air, I’m assuming my mom told you I’m gay”.

She told me my mom had alluded to the ‘issue’, and so I told her that a)I didn’t think it had anything to do with our communication problems and b)I’m celibate so there is no way it’s relevant to any aspect of what I was there to talk about (ie: relationship issues). She actually seemed quite positive in that meeting, telling me that she had gay friends, one of whom had helped her a lot when she was going through a particularly low period (he took her in when her husband left her)… she also used the phrase ‘coming out of the closet’ to talk about accepting the reality of various situations in my life. I got the impression that she was ‘gay positive’, which I kept to myself because I didn’t want my mom to find out – she would have been quite upset to think that.

One of the things that kept getting brought up was my weight (not by me or the therapist, but by my mother). It was frustrating to say the least, I was trying to talk about our communication, and my mom kept just saying over and over again “I think she needs to lose weight.” It was like talking with a plant. And she’s right, you know, I’m what I’ve referred to as a “bigger black woman”, and I know I should lose weight, but again, it was irrelevant to the issue at hand. Anyway, the reason I bring that up is because my mom recently called this therapist and found out that she’s dying. Like I said, she was quite sick, so it doesn’t come as a surprise, but it is sad. She was sweet. Well, she and my mom spoke for a few minutes and apparently this woman’s last words of advice for me are this (as relayed by my mother, who I don’t think would lie about a woman’s dying words): “Tell JJ I’m not worried about her weight. I am worried about the gay thing. I worry about her going into a gay lifestyle. I’ve worked with people like that and those people will chew you up and spit you out. As long as she’s celibate I wouldn’t worry.”

I don’t want to speak ill of the almost dead, but what? Those people? Like the kind who took her in when her straight husband abandoned her? Like one of my best friends from high school, who has comforted me so many times when my mom was driving me batty, who has been with her girlfriend for 6 years now? Like one of my dear gay guy friends who helped me accept who I am and learn to not hate myself?

And that those were her last words to my mother? That sucks. I know that will come back and bite me in the ass at some point. I can hear my mother saying, “Even _________ knew that this was an unhealthy state of being. Do you remember her last words of advice to you? She knows about ‘those people’. She worked with them. Do you want to be like that?”

Argh.

Of course, she did go on to tell me how 'proud' she was of me for making the 'right decisions', saying that I have always done that. She mentioned an incident when I was seven when someone gave me a Smurfs game and I willingly threw it out because my mom believed that Smurfs were evil. I didn't really care about the game because I didn't watch the show so it wasn't the best present to give me. I was more worried about what the person who gave the present to me would think. I now think it was kind of ridiculous that I wasn't allowed to watch the Smurfs because, really, it was just a cartoon about little blue creatures. But my mom was apparantly really proud of me back then.

Oh, and I know I told you about that ‘healing week’ I went to, well my mom’s going to one. And here’s the really messed up part. They’re giving her the same counselors as they gave me. Isn’t that warped? The thing that’s annoying is that I was supposed to follow up with those women, but as I only really went to make my mom happy, and I kind of moved to the other side of the planet shortly afterwards, I didn’t bother. And now I have to figure something out, cause she’ll be pissed.

In other completely non personal news, have you heard about this? Faith in America: Religion Based Bigotry, Let’s End it Now and Forever. I think it’s a really cool idea, but I know what people like my mother would say. She will say it’s evidence of the homosexual agenda rearing its head in the church. That these people are obviously not real Christians, etc… You know what I would like to see? Some more moderate conservatives like Tony Campolo (even though I know some dismiss him entirely). I would like to see a Christian who believes that homosexual behavior is a sin who doesn’t feel the need to use that belief to trample on the rights of others. I mean, don’t most evangelicals believe that premarital sex is a sin? Yet they don’t try to make it illegal, because that would be absurd. Most Christians realize that they can’t expect people who believe differently from them to live according to our rules. Why do they find this particular issue so important? So vital to our survival as Christians?

Anyway, I’m exhausted. Willie Hewes asked me if I got an Easter Break, and I didn’t. Which is kind of funny considering that one of the first things my boss told me (really, he bragged about it) was how much more Christian Korea was than Canada, yet they don’t take a holiday for Easter… no Good Friday, let alone Easter Monday (although, to be fair, I’m pretty sure only Canadians have Easter Monday… we love our long weekends!) And the hilarious thing was that none of the kids had even heard of Easter… not even the Easter Bunny… they did have a missionary in, so I’m assuming he explained, but it was in Korean so I have no idea.

Well, I’m off to bed now. Night all!

61. What's Sex Got To Do With It?

Coming out to someone is always an interesting process. If it wasn’t for the anxiety it causes, I’d do it all the time because the different responses people have are fascinating. I’ve had more than one person feel the need to confess something “equally intimate”, and am therefore the bearer of some rather awkward secrets.

As an aside (I am fond of asides, eh?) I just had the most blasé coming out ever. Well, it happened a few weeks ago, but still. I mentioned a little while back that one of my co-workers (who I shall creatively call S) was moving in next door. Based on some stuff she had said at work I was fairly certain that she would be ‘cool with it’… you know, my being gay. I no longer feel comfortable living in a world where no one knows so, a couple of days after she moved in, when we were going over our collective music collections and she noticed my Ani Difranco CD’s, I told her. The conversation went something like this.

S: “Ani Difranco! I love Ani Difranco. She is awesome! Ooooh, I don’t have this one…”

Me: “Mmmhmmm… I’m gay…”

S. “Cool. Can I borrow this one?”

Me: “Sure.”

So, that was pretty easy. She has since followed true to form for all of the non-Christian women I’ve come out to and mentioned some same-sex attractions she has felt. I don’t know if she mentioned those things because she knows I’m gay or not, but it’s an interesting pattern.

Anyway, the reason I bring this up is because my last post got me thinking about some things… about sexuality and what it actually means. You probably don’t see a connection because you don’t live in my brain. Let me explain. One of the first people I came out to had a very intriguing response. After affirming that she continued to love me, she actually went on to wonder why my sexuality was such a big deal… after all, she was “only a sexual person for about an hour a day.”

My first thought was “Every day? For an hour? That’s pretty impressive.” My next thought was, “Wait a minute. I know that sexuality is more than sex, because I am not having sex and my sexuality is still a huge part of me.”

I explained things to myself by saying that my sexuality then obviously was wrapped up in lust… but time has changed things. As I have become more open about being gay with myself and my close friends, my lust issues have diminished drastically… as I mentioned before, it’s been a bit of a shock. I’m not saying that I’m perfect, I’m just saying that self-control is a lot easier now. When you add that up with the fact that I haven’t been seriously attracted to anyone in a long time, a question comes to the fore. I am not having sex, I am not experiencing lustful, or even romantic feelings… so what is my sexuality doing? Is it gone? Is it dormant?

I was debating recently whether or not to come out to my church family as a whole (not sure how that would work, exactly… an announcement in the bulletin? Not bloody likely) because I was feeling very frustrated by being in the closet. I was trying to explain to a good friend why this would be important and it was really hard to explain. Why do people need to know who I’m drawn to romantically when, in fact, right now I’m not drawn to anyone at all? My sexuality really has no relevance to most of my relationships at church, so why do I care? I just do because I know that my sexuality is more than just sex. This, of course, is something that straight people don’t really think about because their experience is the norm… and no one ever really asks them to deny or suppress their sexuality – even demanding abstinence is not suppressing sexuality, because an abstinent heterosexual is still permitted to feel, and even to enjoy and explore their attractions, something that most Christians would rather we gays don’t do.

Incidentally, the way that I solved this debate (about whether or not to come out) was to think about it really hard, and then move to the other side of the planet. I’m a real problem solver!

Anyway, I’ve been thinking about this for the last week or so, ever since my post about Marvin Bloom, and why he seems smothered to me. Well, it turns out that Peterson got wind of my post and put a section of it on his blog and lo and behold, there were comments… and one of them addressed this very issue. It was written more eloquently than I could ever hope to, so I’m just going to copy and paste it here. Kurt T wrote:

“Here is an analogy that might work, or it might make me sound like a nut. Once I had a semi-severe back injury. Well, not like I had to go into the hospital or something, but it took a while to recover.

And the funniest thing about having a back injury is you never realize until your back doesn't work anymore all the things that you were using your back muscles for, and now you can't do those things. Like you can't get out of a chair. You can't pull weeds. You can't reach the stuff on the top of the refrigerator. You drop your keys on the floor, forget it. They're gonna stay on the floor.

And then you say to yourself "That's funny. It never occurred to me I needed my back to do any of that stuff."

To me, that's kind of what happens when you suppress your sexuality. You think that your sexuality is just something you use when you're on a date, or having sex or looking around for a hook up, but really you need your sexuality for lots of other stuff. Your creativity, your passion, your appreciation of a beautiful spring day or the sound of a clarinet playing "Begin the Beguine." Your sexuality is part of what makes all of that happen.

You don't think about it. You're not really aware of it, but your sexuality is part of the complex formula that brings all that joy into your life. As Edith Piaf would say "Oui, la vie, c'est l'amour, et l'amour, c'est la vie."

So when Marvin represses his sexuality, he's really repressing a lot more than he bargained for.”

I want to pose this question to anyone who stumbles upon this blog. What do you think sexuality is? Do you think it is something that merely comes into play during ‘sexual activity’? If so, can you explain why you think that? And if you think it is more, can you elaborate as to how and why? Kurt’s response was awesome, but I would love to hear more.

Oh, and another aside. It seems that Marvin got wind of my last post about him and was kind of upset. I never meant to upset him, as a matter of fact, I never posted a comment to one of his posts for that reason. I’ve asked Peterson to convey my apologies for hurting his feelings. Oh… and if you listen to this particular post, I just want to let you know that I am not a gambler (never even bought a lottery ticket), nor am I a man. Just wanted to clear that up.

60. Neutered

Okay, this is my second attempt at writing this post. I just completely lost it… no idea where it went. It’s not like my computer froze or anything… the post just disappeared. Weird.

Anyway, these thoughts aren’t new ones. I was just over at Peter Toscano’s blog, catching up on the adventures of Marvin Bloom – and just to put all my cards on the table, every time I listen to one of his audio posts I can’t help but wonder if he’s for real – I mean, the exgay guy goes on his first heterosexual date, and the girl turns out to be a lesbian! That’s got to be a joke right? Anyway, if he’s for real, right now he’s taking that girl through his ex-gay stuff to help stop being a lesbian.

It got me thinking about how just a few short years ago I was really aching to be ‘fixed’. My main beef with God and life in general was that I wasn’t being made straight, no matter how I begged and pleaded and believed. I remember in one of my meetings with one of my old pastors, she told me to stop using the word ‘fixed’ because she couldn’t help think that I was asking to be neutered, and that was kind of gross.

The thing is… now I think that was kind of what I was asking for. I mean, I don’t think that’s what I meant, but I think that’s what it would amount to. I listen to Marvin Bloom, and I think that if he is for real, then I wish him well… but I also worry, because he seems unwell emotionally… and spiritually too, actually. Like something significant is being smothered in him… like he’s only using half of his person. I don’t really know how to explain it any better. I think you’ll hear what I mean if you listen to his posts. You know how when you neuter a cat, it gets kind of sluggish? It’s kind of like that. Not that he’s sluggish, but part of him is.

If you had asked me a few years ago if I wanted to be straight, the answer would have been a very quick and emphatic “yes”. Now, the answer is a fairly certain “no.” (Not completely certain, but simply because I like to remain open to all possibilities.) And that “no” is not because I have anything against being straight, or even that I think that “God made me this way”, but because I think that if I were to suddenly become straight, I would end up being a completely different person. Being gay is such a central part of me (just like being straight is central to any straight person) that if that were to be removed, I have no idea what would be left. I can’t even say that I wish I could go back to the beginning of my life and just be straight from then on, because I don’t know what that would look like, and I have no idea what that version of me would want at all.

I am who I am, and I’m fairly at piece with that. I just need to know what to do with myself. I was looking over one of my old journals and found this sentence today. "I suppose I could pray that God would take away the feelings, but that seems wrong and somehow backwards - like asking God to remove my knee because it hurts right now." It's amazing how we grow and change, eh?


In other news, I took that personality test that Liadan and E were took and found out that I’m a Considerate Experiencer. It was a fun test, and seems rather accurate to me. The one thing I would want to point out is that my femininity rating was quite high – 90%. The only reason I want to point this out is because so many people think that being gay means that you have gender identity issues. Yes, I have some masculine characteristics, but they are mostly external things (ie: wearing pants, not wearing makeup, not sitting with my knees pressed together, etc…). Any personality test I’ve ever taken that has had a masculine/feminine rating, I have always scored crazy high in my femininity… I remember one test in high school I actually scored at 150% female. The guest speaker who administered that test had never seen a score like that before. She actually made me take it again, and added the score up herself.

59. Homophobia

So… here’s my second set of blog-themed thoughts brought on by two separate incidents at the school I’m teaching at.  Before I describe the incidents, I should tell you something about Korean children, or at least about the Korean children at the school I teach at. They all seem to be miles ahead of their Western counterparts when it comes to the birds and the bees.  It’s not that they’re having sex in kindergarten (the level of all of our students, ages 5-7), it’s that they are kind of dating already.  They hold hands, they kiss, they buy each other gifts, they carry each others books, they caress each other (a sentence that has actually been heard in my class on several occasions: “Shawn, stop stroking Ashley’s face and pay attention!”).  I find it so strange, because I have no recollection of having any sort of real crushes or romantic feelings (straight or gay) at that age.  Anyway, the incidents are as follows.

Incident 1:  Happened in the class of the little lesbian girl I’ve now mentioned twice.  A new boy arrived in their class and decided he had a crush on her.  So one day after he was finished his work, he walked over to her and started stroking her hair and telling her how pretty she was.  She, of course, ignored him completely.  Before the teacher could say anything, another boy in the class piped up, “Oh… no. She likes girls.  She doesn’t like boys.”  

The thing that was so interesting about it was how matter of fact it was.  It was not said in a mocking way, in fact, this girl doesn’t get mocked at all for liking girls – whether or not she turns out to actually be a lesbian, the fact is that these kids know what it means to have crushes, and they just accept the fact that this girl has crushes on other girls.  They readily accept her for who she is.  

And it can’t possibly be that Korea is a tolerant society… in fact, anything official you read here will tell you that there are no gay Koreans.  It would be funny if it weren’t so sad.  Even that sermon I mentioned before, the pastor who mentioned gay people wasn’t talking about Korea; he was talking about a vacation he’d been on in America.  Homosexuality is seen as a “Western Problem”.  Of course, that’s all crap.   I think I was chatting with Eric from Two World Collision at the time, but when I was sifting through Korean job offers I was looking up various Korean cities to see what they were like and one particular city (can’t remember which one), the very first site to come up was a site listing gay venues in that city.  And these weren’t gay venues set up by foreigners (yes, I checked out the site, I was curious), these were Korean gay venues set up for Korean gay people.  Anyway, the point of this is to explain that the attitude of this particular class is not the attitude of the country.  These children haven’t been indoctrinated yet.  

Incident 2:  This incident happened in my class.  And I actually didn’t see it happen, I came in right after and heard one of the little girls in my class explaining the finer points of heterosexuality to a little boy (these kids are 5 and 6).  The explanation went something like this, “No, no… boys kiss girls.  Girls kiss boys.”

One of the other girls in my class actually rolled her eyes as she explained to me “Brian kissed Ian.”  I’m not sure what annoyed her, the boys kissing, or the explanation.  

This is hardly the first time two boys have kissed in my class.  Two boys who have since left my class (at the end of the last term) used to kiss all the time.  And as long as they weren’t kissing while I was teaching I didn’t actually care.  At least not after I got over the shock of it… not that boys were kissing, but that 5 year olds were kissing each other with anything more than platonic pecks.  I should point out that I had plenty of boy/girl kisses to contend with too.  

Anyway, all of this got me thinking about homophobia, and where it comes from.  Many on the religious right insist that it’s innate.  I know that many of them would probably resent the use of the term “homophobia”, but well, I don’t know what other term to use to describe the attitudes I hear from that camp.  The thinking there is that homosexuality is just ‘icky’ – of course, this is because they can’t think of homosexuality without thinking about ‘the gay sex’… and, yeah, I can see how that would be unpleasant if you are not inclined to enjoy ‘the gay sex’.  But why do you have to immediately go to thinking about gay sex?  I mean, I don’t see a straight couple and start thinking about them in bed together.  Seriously, if that was they way I thought, people would say I had a problem.  Yet this is what straight people, particularly the religious right, do whenever they think about gay people… so I think that’s more their problem.  One of my best friends’ husband actually put it rather succinctly one time – “Straight people are obsessed with gay sex.”

Okay, I keep veering off on tangents.  The thing I am now curious about is when does this homophobia set in?  Is it innate?  Was that little girl who explained that girls kiss boys just parroting something her parents said (which seems like an odd thing for the parent of a 5 year old to say to a child), or was she actually expressing her innate distaste for what she saw?  The children who just accept the little lesbian girl (who are a year or two older than the kids in my class), is that attitude going to change naturally?  Or are they going to have to be taught that they should disapprove?

I feel like I should say that I don’t necessarily think these kids are gay.  To be perfectly honest, I don’t think they are… the only one I even remotely suspect might be gay is the little lesbian girl, but even then I have some doubts.  It could be just that she doesn’t like boys yet and sees everyone else kissing and stuff, so she does it with girls for now.  Who knows.    

Part of the reason I’m so curious about this is because my first memory of knowing that I was gay came in the wake of some homophobic comments.  I remember it quite distinctly.  We were all standing in line outside of our grade four classroom when Kimberly Eyers decided for some reason to kiss everyone in line, boys and girls.  Just on the cheek, nothing like what these Korean kids do, but still, someone called her a “homo”.  I’m not even sure how I recognized the word, but I distinctly remember thinking “Oh, right, I have to keep this a secret.”  And there began my life in the closet.  I wonder how different my life would have been if I had had a class like the one our little lesbian girl has.  Or would I have eventually ended up in the closet anyway because the kids would have eventually ‘matured’ and turned on me?      

58. Sweet Tooth

Yes, yes, I know… it’s been ages.  I’m really sorry.  The thing is, I have so many thoughts that I doubt I’ll get them all down in one blog entry so if I have energy again tomorrow I might very well write another one… can you imagine?  2 blogs in 2 days?  

Don’t get your hopes up.

Before I begin my thoughts for today (my, how formal that sounds!) I should tell you the reason for the huge delay between blogs.  My life has just gotten crazy stressful.  The stress I felt before the new term started (In Korea, the school year runs from March to March) I thought would end with the beginning of the new term, but things have gotten worse.  The school I work at has decided to add a whole bunch of new students (and a whole bunch of new classes) without adding any new teachers, which means that all of the foreign (English speaking) staff at the school are now working some crazy-ass hours.  I actually teach for 7-9 hours a day… and that’s all teaching time (well, minus the lunch that we actually had to fight for!).  In Canada, the school hours are about 6 hours, but it should be noted that that is not all teaching time because they are aware that that would drive anyone crazy.  It’s exhausting.  And it’s seriously affecting me.  I am usually able to be fairly diplomatic, but I’m so tired that I’ve caught myself saying some rather blunt things at work.  For example, I’ll transcribe a conversation I had with the supervisor the other day when she asked me to fill out some forms that, frankly, rather ridiculous, and that we had never had to fill out before.

Supervisor:  “Could you fill in the names of the books you have read to the children this past week?

Me: “No.”

Supervisor:  “Um… I need you to write down the names of the stories…”

Me. “No.”

Supervisor, giggles a bit:  “Um… just write the names down here…”

Me:  “No.”

Supervisor:  rather confused, I imagine, “Uh… okay, just write the books.”

Me:  “No.”

Supervisor: exasperated, “Um… why?”

Me: “Because it’s dumb.”

Supervisor:  “What?”

Me:  “It’s stupid.”

Supervisor:  “Um, okay, but just write it down.”

Me:  “No.”

Not the most eloquent I’ve ever been, I have to say.  And that is only a short part of it.  That conversation lasted for the entire 5 minute break I had between classes… the 5 minutes I was hoping to use to sit at my desk and stare into space.  And in case you’re wondering, I did end up filling out the forms… sort of.  I read stories twice a week to 4 different classes, and I usually read more than one story to each class.  I have no idea what story I read to what class on whatever day, so I just made it up.

Okay, onto my blog relevant thoughts.  The other day at work some of my coworkers were talking about this huge party they went to, and some pictures that had been taken, including a picture of some girls (straight girls) kissing.  One of the girls, incidentally, was the girl who I think gaydared me, the one I think is… well, she’s pretty.  You might think I’d be shocked and dismayed by this, but I’m not.  Firstly, because this sort of thing happens all the time… at least, I hear about it all the time.  I don’t go to those sorts of parties, but certain segments of my friends do and they tell me.  The second reason I’m not shocked?  Well, I’m gay… really gay.  I’m gay to the point that, while I know that gay men and straight women exist, I just don’t understand how anyone can actually not be attracted to women, at least on some level.  

That’s probably a bit extreme.  It’s kind of like finding out that other people don’t like a movie that you think is phenomenal.  You understand that people have different tastes, but how could they not like something you thought was amazing?  It’s not that I think they’re lying, it’s just that… well... women are beautiful.  It’s kind of like sugar.  Everyone likes sugar, right?  I mean, they have to.  Some like it more than others, but doesn’t everyone like sugar?  It tastes good.  Doesn’t everybody have at least a bit of a sweet tooth?

And it doesn’t hurt that without exception, every single non-Christian woman I have ever come out to has “confessed” to me that they have occasionally fantasized about or been attracted to women.  It’s always so funny to me, because they usually say it thinking it’s going to be this huge deal, that I’m going to be shocked, but in my head I’m going “well, of course… women are hot.”

Anyway, the reason I bring this whole thing up is that the emotion I feel whenever I hear about 2 straight girls making out is not shock, or even hope that one of them might be gay and maybe I have a chance… it’s jealousy.  Pure and simple.  Not wishing that I could be one of them, because I don’t just want to kiss some random straight girl.  But I’m jealous that there are all these straight girls who have gotten to experience something that I haven’t… that it’s not a big deal to them.  And I also feel angry.   That sometimes it’s even a joke, something they do to titillate the boys, that it actually would be kind of okay for me to kiss a girl if I were straight… that it’s more acceptable for two straight girls to kiss than it is for two gay girls (or two gay guys for that matter) to kiss.  I hate that something that I long for is so easily attained (if only on a superficial level) by straight girls.  

Of course, like I said, I don’t want just some random kiss in a bar at a party.  I’ve had enough of kissing people I don’t care about.  Granted they were all boys, and all of them had the same effect on me – the same thoughts… “Okay, so when does this start to feel good?”  

Maybe it would be different if it was a girl, maybe I would like it then… who knows.  Regardless, I have kind of decided that I won’t kiss any more people I don’t really have ‘feelings’ for.  Of course, I should tell you that I made that decision over 5 years ago, so it’s been over 5 years since I’ve kissed anyone… and it’s not like I was a snoggaholic before that.  My first kiss was at 23, and my last was at 25.  Oy.  When I actually write that stuff out it kind of freaks me out.  Makes me want to be a hermit.  Either that or go to one of those parties and make out with the first 5 people I see.  

Well, these thoughts don’t have a lot of cohesion, because like I said, I’m exhausted.  And I have more thoughts, but I think you’ll have to wait for those ones because I’ve worn out my mental capacity writing this entry.           

57. Heresy Anyone?

In a minor deviation from my regular theme, I thought I’d share a little glimpse of one of my classes today.

It was one of my afternoon classes, which is actually pretty much my favourite time of day… it’s a class of 4 ten and eleven year olds.  One of the boys, whom I shall call Robert, found this weird plastic strap type thing, and made it into a crown, and declared himself king.  One of the other boys, whom I shall call Terry said (incidentally, in perfect English, which was itself pretty impressive), “Well, if you’re king, then I’m God.”

My eyebrows shot up, at first thinking “that’s some impressive theology for a 10 year old… he knows that God is greater than a king!”  But that wasn’t the end of it.  Robert countered with, “Well, if you’re God, then I’m Jesus!”

I almost gave myself whiplash, my head turned so fast.  But it didn’t there.  Terry countered with “Well, if you’re Jesus, then I’m Super Jesus!”

My hot tea almost came out of my nose.

Robert:  “If you’re Super Jesus, then I’m Giant Super Jesus!”

Terry:  “If you’re Giant Super Jesus, then I’m Ultra Giant Super Jesus!”

Robert:  “Well, I’m Great Giant Super Jesus…”

Terry:  “I’m Great Giant Super Jesus Ultra humongous….”

I think it was around here that they realized I was in hysterics and the entire class proceeded to lose it.  It took me about 10 minutes to get everyone back on track again.

Hey, a little heresy never hurt anyone did it?

Oh, well… I don’t think this particular bit of heretical conversation will hurt anyone.

56. Valentine's Day

Well, it’s here. Valentine’s Day.  I actually would have probably forgotten about it if I wasn’t working with kids.  For the first time in a long time I’m not surrounded by couples, and I’m not living in a place that feels the need to plaster pink hearts all over everything for a month before the actual day.  I don’t have cable (which means I have no TV channels) so I don’t know if there are a ton of commercials celebrating romance.  This is the first Valentine’s Day in a long time that I haven’t felt slightly bitter, and like a second class citizen…  I mean, I’m single, I’m thirty… if I were in a sitcom I’d be the funny, loveable, overweight sister of the sexy lead actress – who they would eventually set up in a relationship because single women over thirty are apparently pathetic.  

But, as I said, I am not feeling bitter this year… for the first time in 5 years (quite specifically, for the first time since I lived in Ireland).  I got an insane amount of chocolate from the kids at school – more than I really know what to do with… and it will probably happen again next month (they have 3 consecutive chocolate themed holidays in a row here… today is actually “White Day”, I forget what next month’s is, but the one after that is “Black Day”, when single people are supposed to treat themselves… a neat idea!).

I don’t have much to say, I just wrote a post yesterday.  But it is Valentine’s Day so I thought I should post.  I think I’ll just point you in the direction of some interesting reading I’ve encountered recently.  E over at Paradoxy has an excellent series he’s been writing called Defending Truth by Telling Lies.  I don’t know if he’s intending to write more on this subject, but so far he’s got Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3.  And then there’s an article that Brady over at Some Guys are Normal linked to from Christianity Today magazine.  It’s really an excellent article about the attitude of Christian conservatives towards gays.  I’ve actually read a bunch of really thoughtful articles from that magazine recently – even their review of Brokeback Mountain wasn’t all about how the ‘gay agenda’ was taking over or any of that nonsense that the Religious Right likes to talk about.  Oh, and then there’s this post about Battlestar Galactica over at The Chaos Principle.  I realize that it has nothing to do with being Christian, gay or confused, but it was really interesting to me.  Oh, and one more.  If you have a chance, go listen to Eric from Two World Collision’s interview on GCN Radio.  He’s the February 10th episode.  

Okay, I’ve gone a little linktastic there, so I think I’ll give it a rest.  

Happy Valentine’s Day

Love, and all that other mushy stuff.

55. Women

No, I have not dropped off of the face of the earth… I’ve just been busy… and tired.  I’ve been online, and reading other people’s blogs.  I just haven’t had the energy to write my own.  As much as I love children, they certainly can drain you of energy.  It’s 8:30pm here, and I’m forcing myself to not go to bed.  

One of the blogs I’ve been reading is Christine’s over at TalkWisdom.  Now before I begin this, I want to start by saying that I like Christine… or at least I like what I know of her – we’ve only ever communicated via our blogs.  We have very differing view points politically (I tend to lean a bit left, and she is… well, slightly right).  That having been said, I do believe that she is a very nice person.  Her heart is definitely in the right place and she obviously puts Christ first in her life.  

Now that I’ve said all that (and quite sincerely I might add), I’m still a bit nervous to write down the thoughts that her blog inspired for two reasons.  One:  I don’t want a bunch of people heading over to her blog and calling her names, or even trying to respectfully engage her in a discussion on a topic she has said she doesn’t feel she should address anymore.  Two:  well, I’ve told a lot of my close friends about this blog, and while none of them read it very regularly, the idea of a certain few of them stumbling on this entry worries me.  Oh, don’t worry, it’s not going to get graphic or anything… it’s not even going to be anything I haven’t mentioned before (at least in passing).  It’s just going to be more direct that anything I’ve written before.  

So, what is this dubious topic?  Women.

Heh… it’s always about women!

But seriously folks (“…try the veal, and be sure to tip your waitress!”), I’m actually talking about women in Scripture.  

In junior high I decided to read through the entire Bible – it was about the time the One Year Bible became popular, so I got one… and started reading.  I quickly realized that there were huge passages of Scripture no one had ever read to me, in church or otherwise… and no one seemed to pay attention to.  I’m talking about all the verses about women – how we shouldn’t cut our hair, or braid it, or wear jewelry, or teach or preach, or even talk in church… I sat in my bed, wearing my jeans, with my shortish, braided hair and my big 80s florescent jewelry thinking “whoa… I’m sinning right now, while I’m reading the Bible… how come no one talks about this?”  And then, as I sat there, I realized I went to a church where women led Bible studies and taught… even preached.  And I’d been to churches with female pastors on staff (I’ve since attended many churches with female pastors on staff, and at least one that I can recall with a woman as the head pastor).  

These verses about women are there, and they are much more direct and explicit than the ones “about” homosexuality.  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, with the exception of the Leviticus passage (which I would like to add, is sandwiched between a whole bunch of verses that we completely ignore), none of the verses “about” homosexuality are actually about homosexuality.  Homosexuality is mentioned only ever in passing… even the famous Romans 1 passage is actually about idolatry.  It’s more than a little frustrating that Paul can write verses and verses about women in the church and people don’t even bother to read them anymore, but he merely mentions something which might be interpreted as homosexuality (there is some legitimate debate on this issue of interpretation) and the entire Religious Right movement is launched against us.  

Of course, I in no way mean to say that I believe that women should have long hair and no jewelry...  I’ve heard the arguments – mainly that those laws were culturally based, etc… and I think they are most likely valid arguments.  But to be perfectly honest, I haven’t looked into it very much myself.  I’ve just chosen to trust that if I’m wrong, God will let me know somehow.  

Now, I do not feel at all called to preach, so the verses about women teaching and preaching are not so much relevant to me, except that the church I attend regularly in Canada employs women on it’s pastoral staff, who preach quite regularly.  And I would have no problems attending a church with a female head pastor.  So, I guess they are kind of relevant.  I remember in one of my meetings with one of the female pastors at my church this whole topic came up.  She happens to be an excellent preacher, an excellent teacher, and has a very pastoral heart.  I can’t actually remember the context of this conversation but I remember her saying something like this:

“I haven’t actually sorted through the whole ‘women in ministry’ thing.  I know what the Bible says, and I plan to investigate it for myself eventually.”

She said this while being a woman in ministry, in a position of leadership, preaching, teaching (and incidentally occasionally cutting her hair) at my church.  

What triggered this memory?  A comment I left over at Christine’s blog “

“You seem to make the assumption that anyone who takes a 'pro-gay behavior' stance has basically said "this is what I want to do, so how can I justify it", instead of considering the fact that they might seriously have thought about this, sought God and read the Scriptures. This is simply not the case, no more than it is for any woman who preaches.”

After I wrote this, I got to thinking… that’s not actually true.  Most gay Christians I’ve encountered have examined this issue far more diligently than most Christian women I know… especially those gay Christians who take a Side A stance (pro-gay relationships).  This woman I’ve mentioned, who I happen to respect a great deal (I’ve mentioned her more than a few times on this blog) was perfectly content to keep preaching and being in leadership without looking into this issue really at all.  She’d heard the same arguments I had, and probably a few more, but readily admitted that she didn’t have all the answers, that it was possible she was disobeying God’s law.  But she felt called to preach, she felt called to the ministry, she felt called to be a pastor. I’m can only assume that it ‘felt right’ to her to be in that position.  What if I did the same thing?  What if I went with what ‘felt right’ for me, and started dating women? What if I said I’d figure it out later?  I can’t imagine anyone from my church thinking that that was acceptable.  What if I treated my sexuality with the same cavalier attitude that most of Western Christendom (myself included) treats the very prescriptive verses about how women should dress?  You know – “Well, other people seem to think that it’s okay for women to wear pants and jewelry and to braid their hair, so I guess it’s probably alright.”  I mean, most Christians (and I do mean evangelical Christians, by the way) never really think about this issue at all.  What if I did that?  “There are gay Christians out there who marry and have sex and they seem to think it’s okay, so it’s probably alright…”

Again, let me reiterate that I do think it’s alright for women to adorn themselves with jewelry and braid their hair and preach… I trust the wisdom of the Church, and I have done a tiny bit of research into this myself.  I believe that people are probably right, that those laws were culturally based, and not meant for us in the 21st century.  But the Church hasn’t always thought this way, and even today we don’t all agree.  When I lived in Texas I went to school with a few girls who didn’t ever cut their hair (it actually fell past their knees), or braid it (which made the length even worse) because of what the Bible said about that.  

This is a somewhat off-topic, and very bitter and cynical point, but I do sometimes wonder if the reason the Church has been willing to reexamine and reinterpret Paul’s words about women is because at least 50% of the Church is women, so they have to listen to our voices… and maybe the reason the Church (as a whole) is unwilling to reexamine the verses ‘about’ homosexuality is because we represent such a minority that they feel they can ignore us.  

Anyway, that’s it.  That’s what I’ve been thinking about for the past little while.  

On a completely different note, I’m beginning to enjoy myself more here.  Not that I wasn’t enjoying myself before, but… well, I got my first pay cheque on Friday and now I can actually afford to leave my home!  I’m still really enjoying the other English staff… one of whom has just been informed that she will be moving into my building on March 1st, which is kind of awesome.  I’ll have a neighbour!  Not that I don’t have neighbours now, who are very nice, I’m sure, but I can’t talk to any of them.  Anyway, I hope this girl and I end up getting along – not that we’ll be actually living together, but these apartments are so small (one room… not one bedroom, one room), that it will be kind of like being roommates.  She’s nice, and I like her well enough, but so far I have no idea if we click at all.  

Well, that’s it.  Blessings from Korea, y’all!    

54. My Thoughts on Brokeback... Finally!

I think I may be the only gay blogger left who hasn’t yet talked about Brokeback Mountain.  Oops… heh.  

I did see it, I made a point of seeing it before I left because I was fairly certain it would never make it over here to Korea.  

I don’t really have anything to say that hasn’t already been said on countless other blogs.  I found the movie beautiful, and heartbreaking.  And this will sound odd, but I was actually shocked at the lack of graphic sex in the film, because certain Christian reviewers had referred to the movie as… well, containing graphic sex scenes… when really, I’ve seen more graphic sex depicted on primetime TV so… I’m not sure what they were talking about.  

It did make me think more about these closeted men’s wives, and how much potential there is to hurt so many people when you have to lie about who you are. And while infidelity will obviously hurt your spouse, just the lie – without the infidelity – can also cause pain.  I’m reminded of a story I heard in an excellent documentary called Trembling Before G-d (a movie about gay orthodox Jews).  It was a story told by a psychologist who had been treating a woman for depression, when one day her husband came in and said “I think I’m the reason for my wife’s depression”, and went on to confess to being gay.  He had never strayed, never cheated on his wife, but she knew he didn’t desire her… could never love her the way she wanted to be loved, and it sent her into a depression.  

Anyway, like I said, it’s not like I have any new thoughts… this movie has been discussed ad nauseam in the blogosphere so… just thought I’d do my duty and ad my two cents.

53. Oldmaidenhood

I was just chatting with my last single friend and she told me that she doesn’t think she wants to get married.  You’d think this would give me hope that, should I end up being celibate for life, I won’t go into oldmaidenhood alone… but, well… she is hardly the first friend I’ve had tell me that they didn’t want to marry… and she was much less definite about it than some of my other friends.  I’ve had people tell me in no uncertain terms that they would never, never marry.  No desire for it whatsoever.  And some were quite specific about it; they would never marry because they really didn’t have any desire for sex.

The thing is, they are all now, without exception, married.  And I can only assume (without thinking about it too much) that they have had the dreaded sex.  

It really doesn’t seem fair, does it?  I mean, I’ve been told that celibacy shouldn’t be that big a deal – I’ve actually had the “What’s wrong with celibacy?” speech given to me, on more than one occasion, and by more than one person.  (All of whom are, again, married, by the way)  Yet how many people are actually voluntarily celibate?  Honestly, we were not designed for that.  Of course, now I’ve just opened myself up for the “we were not designed for homosexual sex” argument so… never mind.  

I tell people I’m happy being single, and I’m not lying… not really.  But I know it’s temporary, it’s kind of like being full.  It’s good, and you’re satisfied, but it’s not like you don’t know that you’ll be hungry again later… and if you never eat?  Well, you know what happens then.  My mother actually brought up the gay issue recently, saying she was happy I had “chosen a healthy lifestyle, but you can’t emotionally starve yourself forever!” And she’s right.  The only reason I can endure this is because I don’t think about my life… I think about right now, and maybe a month from now… or if I’m ambitious I’ll go as far as a year, but anything beyond that is too much to handle.  My mother’s solution, of course, is that I get fixed and marry a man… and well, if you’ve read any of this blog you know where I stand on that issue.

Anyway, it’s 3:11 in the morning here in Korea, and so I’m a little darker than usual.  

I’m getting more and more into the swing of things.  My class is actually starting to behave, and I already have my favourites (shhhh, don’t tell anyone!  Teacher’s aren’t supposed to have favourites, but we all do!).  And it looks like my biggest trouble maker will be leaving in about a month, which is something to look forward to.  I get along fairly well with all the other foreign teachers, and the newest one is actually a practicing Catholic, so that is cool.  I meant to go to the Seventh Day Adventist Church this morning to check it out and get back to her, but I’ve come down with bronchitis and have spent the day in bed (watching my Battlestar Galactica DVDs and sleeping).  

One of the other teachers, whom I shall call the Punster, cause, well, he tells horrific puns all the time (i.e.: “This looks like a traffic jam, I prefer strawberry jam so I’m going to go home”) happens to also be one of the sweetest people to have ever existed.  He took me out for lunch the other day and in the process of telling me a story about a previous teacher at the school informed me that coming out here is tantamount to asking to get fired.  Apparently this particular teacher taught at our school for about 3 weeks and quit, and then proceeded to get fired from about 5 different schools when they found out he was gay.  He was apparently not very discreet.  Of course, I knew this before I came, but it was interesting to have it confirmed.  

Oh, and an update on the little, so-called, ‘lesbian girl’… I’m beginning to agree with the other teachers… this little girl (who is actually about 7 years old, not 5) has had more (voluntary) girl on girl action than I have at 30 (of course, that’s not hard to do as I’ve had… uh, let’s see… about… none!).  She kisses other girls all the time, and I don’t mean little innocent pecks, I mean “Holy crap, are those two girls making out?” kind of stuff.  The girls she kisses just giggle and joke about it, but she appears to be quite serious.  It’s not uncommon to hear “Girls! Stop kissing!” coming from her classroom.  

In other gay news (heh), I think I got gaydared last night.  I went out for supper with some of the teachers from my school, and they invited this girl from another school who I think pinged me.  I could just be being paranoid though, because she’s rather pretty and is the first girl I’ve caught myself giving the once over to… and I think she caught me doing it too.  I actually only caught myself because I caught her catching me. (Does that sentence make any sense outside of my head?)

Anyway, it’s now 3:36 in the morning and I really should go to sleep.  G’night… or G’morning, whatever.    

52. Week 1 in Korea

Okay, well, I’m here.  In the Land of Morning Calm… that’s Korea for those of you who have never heard that before… I hadn’t until a few days before I arrived.  I’ve been here for a week, but honestly, I kind of feel like I’ve been here forever!  And I don’t mean that in a bad way, I just mean that… well, I feel like I’ve been here forever.  There’s no other way to say that.  There are all these things I’ve been warned about – parents complaining about me, racist taxi drivers – actually racist everyone, the director criticizing me, none of these things have happened yet, but I have to keep reminding myself that I’ve only been here for a week, so they are still very likely to happen.  

The racist thing is interesting, and I’m not sure if ‘racist’ is the right word.   But according to one of the other Canadian teachers, one of the things I can expect is some ‘confusion’ about my race because I’m Canadian but not white.  Apparently the director of the school showed him (the Canadian teacher) my picture about a thousand times to ask if I was “really from Canada”.  It’s funny, in Canada I constantly have to put up with comments like “Are you sure you’re black?  You’re so light skinned.”… but well, here they have no doubts about that.  One of the kids actually said “Teacher… your skin… it’s…um… black!”  It’s really not.  I have white friends who are darker than me… even more in the summer when they all seem to tan so much better than me.  It’s very frustrating.  

Anyway, back to Korea.  I’m liking my job so far.  I am mainly responsible for the kindergarten class – which range in age from 4-6 (they are all 6 or 7 according to the way Koreans count age, that was confusing for me at first, because all the kids were way too small to be that old).  The previous teacher was apparently not very good (they let him go), and the class has no discipline.  I know they are young, but I’ve worked with younger kids who are better behaved.  And it’s not that the kids are bad, they are just used to running things, so they have to get used to the fact that I’m in charge.  I’m not usually very strict as a teacher, but I’m having to be.  I’m hoping to get them in line fairly soon, so that I can go back to my normal teaching style, which is much more laid back.

The weirdest thing about the school is the video cameras.  All the classrooms have video cameras, and there are TVs in the lobby where the parents can watch us.  It’s a weird feeling.  So far I’ve only been watched once, but that will change next week.  I am taking over a class that the parents watch regularly.  Fun!

I’ve eaten things I would never have thought of… I’m sort of living by a “eat first, ask questions later” policy.  I figure that way I can figure out what I like without being prejudiced against it.  In doing this I have found out that I like dried, sliced, sticky squid and a weird fried fish/egg paste thing.  

My living arrangements are pretty much what I expected… perhaps a little smaller than I thought, but well, I didn’t expect much.  It’s one room about the size of a decent sized living room.  I’ve got the internet though, so that’s the most important thing!

I went to a Korean church this morning that had English translation.  The thing is, besides the translator, I was the only English speaker there, so I think next time I will try the Seventh Day Adventist Church, which apparently has services in English so there must be more English speakers there.  It’s not that I don’t want to hang out with Koreans, it just that part of the point of church is the fellowship, and I can’t really fellowship with people I can’t speak with, you know?

In keeping with the theme of this blog, the sermon was interesting.  The pastor brought up homosexuality (particularly gay couples who don’t hide the fact that they are gay couples) as evidence of society’s degenerate nature.  That sort of stuff is always fun to listen to.  

Oh, and the first day of school I heard the other English speaking staff joking about a little girl (who is 5 or 6 by the way) that they believe is a lesbian.  They weren’t being malicious though, so I wasn’t upset or anything.  But Korea being what it is, I have no intention of coming out here.  

And not that it’s all that relevant, but one of the Canadian teachers went to high school with Tricia Helfer – who plays Six on the new Battlestar Galactica (which is, I think, my favourite show on television right now – yes, I know, I’m a nerd.  And proud of it!  Besides, the show rocks.  It’s not my fault there’s a hot girl on it.).   He actually was her ‘date’ at a lot of her early modeling events.  I’m normally into the ‘hot blonde’ types, but… well, she’s… hot (and I hunted to find the least provocative pictures of her).  And she’s just so good on Battlestar Galactica.   See, if I was out, I would have sat right down and peppered him with questions about her, but instead I just nodded and said I thought she was an amazing actress, and that I love her show.  Ah well, it’s not that important.