77. Celibacy Unmasked

So, today I thought I would explore the idea of celibacy.  It’s not a new topic – I’ve talked about it before on and off ever since my very first post.  But I’ve generally talked about how celibacy directly impacts me… not how it indirectly impacts me.  In some ways, this indirect impact is even more frustrating than the obvious stuff (no sex, no life partner, no children, no family of my own, etc…) simply because it is so indirect that no one but me (or other singles, for that matter) notices it happening.  

So, what is it that I’m referring to?  Again, these thoughts were brought on by recent developments in my life.  Not that these developments are anything I haven’t experienced before, it’s just that I’m sort of cataloguing them for the first time.  

The first thing is obvious.  If you are single, and your friend starts dating, you are going to see your friend less.  It makes sense, it’s normal.  You move down the priority list.  If the relationship is a good one, you’ll probably move even further down as your friend begins to confide in their boyfriend or girlfriend.  They start to get things from their partner (and I don’t mean that in the ‘gay’ way) that they perhaps used to get from you… you get squeezed out.  I’m putting this very starkly, I know that none of this is intentional.  It’s natural, healthy even – your spouse should be your primary relationship.  And because most people eventually pair up, the effects aren’t that bad as sooner or later the people who were squeezed out will probably have someone in their lives who will squeeze their friends out.

I should probably mention that in addition to knowing that this isn’t intentional, it also rarely happens that a person gets squeezed completely out… that is actually usually a sign that the new relationship is not healthy.  This “squeezing out”, to keep using that same terminology, happens in varying degrees and in various stages.  But no matter how benign or how minimal, I don’t think anyone who has been on the receiving end of it has ever enjoyed it.  For someone with esteem issues (like I have had for most of my life) it makes me feel a little less valuable every time.  I know I shouldn’t gage my worth that way, but it’s hard not to when you are constantly getting bumped down people’s lists – especially when there is never the opposite happening, I never find myself moving up.  I always start out pretty high and slide down as my friends pair off.

Okay, that got a little more personal than I intended for the purposes of this post… moving on.  

Another indirect effect also results in us single people being squeezed out – only this time it isn’t by the new romantic partner… this is a phenomenon that I must admit I don’t fully understand, having never been in a couple myself… but couples want to hang out with other couples for some reason.  I think I can understand why a guy, for example, might want another guy around while his girlfriend (or wife) is hanging out with her (platonic) girlfriend… but why they have to be another couple I don’t really get.  But I know it happens.  Couples actively seek out other couples to go out with.  I’ve heard married friends of mine complaining about not having couple friends to go out with.  This desire is so strong that I’ve seen friends of mine jump at the opportunity to double date with another couple that they hardly know, or don’t have much in common with (besides being part of a pair).  So we singles get squeezed out not only by this new partner, but by these couples that they seek out.  This one, I admit, frustrates me more than the first point, because, as I’ve mentioned before, I’ve often hung out with couples pre-coupledom.  By this I mean that before a couple starts dating, I am often there, as was the case with my coworkers S and D.  The three of us hung out a lot, and I thought we had a lot of fun.  And then they started dating.  I could process them wanting to be alone and therefore not hanging out with me so much.  What I have trouble with is hearing them make plans to hang out with other couples – especially when it’s this one particular couple that I know they hardly socialized with before.  My thought process goes something like this… “if they’re hanging out with that couple, double dating I guess is what that’s called, then they obviously aren’t wanting to be alone so why them and not me?  I was good enough to spend time with before they were knocking boots, why not now?”  

This, of course, is not the first time this has happened to me.  And it probably won’t be the last.  Wow, that sounds bitter.  And once again, more personal than I intended this post to be.  Whoops.

Moving on.

This last point is probably the most maddening to me.  I understand why it happens, once again there is no malicious intent, it is just frustrating.  What is it?  Well, people who are in a couple want to talk about their boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife a lot.  They want to discuss their relationship all the time.  And of course they do… it generally is the most important (or in the case of Christians, the second most important) relationship in their lives so it’s going to be at the front of their minds all the time.  It’s not that I mind these conversations at all, it’s just that I can’t really participate.  I have no experience to draw from.  I can give my point of view, but I know (and the person I’m talking to knows) that my perspective has really very little value as I quite literally don’t know what I’m talking about.  So I find myself out with my friends who are all in relationships, or have past relationships to draw from, and the conversation inevitably turns to the topic of relationships and I find myself mostly just playing with my food, or staring off into space… bored.  I have nothing to contribute, and if indeed I am to be celibate, the topic  is actually irrelevant to me.  I find myself in the position of realizing that not only am I being bumped down my friends’ lists, but I, myself, am bumping them down because I feel bored by our conversations.   And I hate that.  I value my friends quite highly, I really treasure them… but I know I do this.  Again, I don’t mind these conversations, but it so often happens that they are the only conversations I find myself in.  I didn’t get into all of this in yesterday’s post, but in addition to not wanting to put up with someone I don’t like, part of the reason I’ve found myself pulling away from S is because when I am with her (and the other friends who often join us), I often find myself sitting there, bored, while a conversation goes on around me about their various relationship woes.  I had a quite distinct moment a couple of months ago when we were out for dinner and the thought popped into my head quite clearly – “I’ve got to find new friends.”  I’ll actually talk about that in another post I think, cause this one is already quite long.  

So, there you have it.  My answer to the question that I’ve been asked more than a few times (and always, incidentally, by married people), “What’s wrong with the celibacy option?”  

The answer?  A lot.  A hell of a lot.  Beyond the obvious, being celibate, or even just single in this world (not just in the West, by the way, every where you go in the world, being in a couple is the norm for adults) puts you outside.  Unless you are in a convent or a monastery (or some other variation of a celibate community), you’re going to feel it, feel your otherness, feel your outside status… maybe not every day, but you feel it a lot.  And I know that the solution is apparently to rely on the ‘compassion’ of the church, those people who will take us single people in, but… well, how is someone’s pity supposed to help with making me feel more valued?  Pity does not equal intimacy, it is not a replacement for the relationships that most people have at some point in their lives.  And it is a lie to say that it is enough.  

I know the response to that, by the way.  Christ is enough.  I know that.  I just don’t know that having merely ‘enough’ to get by is what my life is supposed to be.  Other people get Christ and the joys (and responsibilities) that come with marriage.  It doesn’t mean their faith or relationship with Him is any less significant.  I know that this is a juvenile thing to say, but it really just isn’t fair.

Okay, now I’ve done it again.  I’m going to stop writing now.  

76. Joe

Okay, so it has been ages since I posted.  Long enough that the last post was during my last vacation in the Philippines, and this one is coming just prior to my next vacation to the Philippines!  

My time there kind of shook me up a bit, made me think about what I’m doing with my life and what I want to do with my life.  Just to reassure you all, I do think I’m doing the right thing being here right now.  It is the financially responsible, adult thing to do… and I do think I need to do it for a little while longer (until I’m out of debt).  But I have to say that even thinking about teaching in the Philippines, or a place like it, makes me ridiculously happy for the few seconds that I’m thinking about it so I am fairly certain that that is what I am going to end up doing… I almost finished that off with the phrase “with my life”, but I’m leery of making committal statements like that.  I have trouble planning ahead.  

That having been said, I have a lot of blog-relevant thoughts to share, and I’m hoping to get back into the swing of things blog-wise.  Today I was writing a dear friend a letter explaining a minor ‘revelation’ I had yesterday.  I don’t quite know if ‘revelation’ is the right word… it’s just that yesterday I figured out how to explain something I’ve often tried to explain and never could.  It came on the heels of realizing that I’m pulling away from my neighbour S., not because of any conflict or problems in our friendship… I still think she’s awesome and love hanging out with her… it’s just that while we were in the Philippines (along with my other coworker – “Lick-my-boob-girl”, who I’m going to call A. from now on because it’s much shorter) I discovered that I don’t really like hanging out with A. at all… she’s not a bad person, but you can’t like everyone… and she sort of chafes me.  While I was discovering this, S. was discovering how much she likes A. and now whenever I hang out with S. it almost always has to involve A. and I’ve recently noticed myself pulling away from that.  Because I’m rather introspective (hello, I have a blog for crying out loud!), I thought about this for a while and realized that as much as I like S., I guess I don’t value our relationship enough to put up with spending time with A.  (I should point out that it’s not like S. has a lot of free time anyway, between her now fully flourishing dating relationship with D. and work, and her tutoring, her spare time is rather minimal… and I understand her wanting to cram all her friends in at once.) As I was thinking I suddenly realized I had an answer to a question I get all the time.  “Did you hear what Jerry Falwell/James Dobson/Exodus/Your mother just said about gays?  How can you still be a Christian?”

I’m sure the savvy among you can see where I’m going with this, but here it is (basically transcribed from the letter I wrote today).

Let’s say I’m friends with Joe.  Joe is an awesome guy who enriches my life.  He challenges me, he helps me grow as a person.  He helps me understand myself and the world around me.  I really enjoy my time with him and feel my life is better with him in it.  Let’s say that Joe, being this awesome guy, has lots of other friends – and the vast majority of them treat me like shit – as less than, as unworthy, as a threat… I will now have a decision to make.  Is my relationship with Joe worth the aggravation I will have to endure when I am forced to interact with his other friends?

I’m sure this analogy is easy to see through.  Joe, is of course, Jesus… and I have decided that He is worth it.  The analogy works on other levels though… In my little story, Joe’s friends treat me badly, lie about me and make ridiculous demands of me that they wouldn’t even consider making of each other… and I can’t help but have questions about Joe because… well… aren’t your friends a sort of reflection of you?  If I can’t trust many of the people around Joe, it’s going to be more difficult for me to trust Joe himself, because why on earth would he surround himself with such people?

Of course, here is where the analogy breaks down… because I don’t want Jesus excluding people from His “group of friends” because of character flaws… because then I’m out, and despite what many of His ‘friends’ may think, I really don’t want to be out.

So, what do I do?  I continue to relate to (and with) Christ despite all the crap that is spewed out by groups like Focus on the Family or Exodus… or, for that matter, my mother.  Christ is worth it.

75. Philippines Two

The friend that I'd written that letter to wrote me back today and I thought I'd share some of what he wrote. He is one of the wisest people I've ever met, and honestly, reading this letter has really helped me, so once again, I thought I'd share.

God sends us experiences I think in the hope that we will wake up and really allow ourselves to be touched by another person and their lives. It sounds like she needs a Friend and Hope more than anything else. It must be so hard to have to live a life as someone else doing something you despise. I can't imagine how alone that life would feel, without the knowledge that it's even 'worth it'. I'm sure you've helped enormously by just seeing and accepting her for who she is. Most of the people she meets probably use her and/or consider themselves morally superior to her. Condescension is a nasty weapon...


I hope you're feeling better than you did when you wrote me. Pray for the strength to see the pain and suffering in the world and still find hope; to share joy with the world around you. Remember to smile at your Shadow. Don't feel guilty for what you have. It's true that the wealth of the world is unfairly distributed and people suffer great harships while others (us) have amazing opportunites and resources. Guilt won't make it better. Guilt is just us serving our own woe-is-me ego needs. I'm learning that we need to have fun, and serve; to truly come alive and love; to leave the world better than we find it; and most importantly to just fucking reach out and touch another human being. We are social animals. We cannot survive without contact with another life, another being. In the space that you created together, she let you see the real her with all her joys and woes. You've been touched by her. And it's okay to fall apart from time to time and perhaps we can learn to pick ourselves back up (maybe not in the same order or pattern as before) and Serve something bigger. We are made in God's image, and honouring another person, being with them, maybe is service, is worship.

Do you see why I'm friends with this guy?

74. Philippines

I'm actually writing a post from the Philippines, I can't believe this. We are here during monsoon season, so it's been rainy for most of the time so far. We had planned to stay away from the more touristy places, but with the weather being the way it is, we decided to head to Boracay because then even if the weather is sucky, there will be something to do.

But I have something to share... We started off on this little island and went out dancing our first night there. The club was a blast -- an excellent live band. But inbetween the band's sets, there were these dancing girls. They were nearly naked and they would just grind on stage. They were all very beautiful, but they all looked so depressed that it actually felt really wrong to look at them, like we were violating them somehow. But there was one dancer who got my attention. I was actually avoiding looking on stage when I heard a crash and looked, and there she was, in the splits... she stood up again, and did this kick thing and crashed down into the splits again. Beyond any level of sexiness (which I will admit was there) it was just impressive. We all applauded. When she was done her set, she came over to us and we started a conversation. She asked if she could join us 'for company', and of course we said yes. We danced together all night, (which, again, I will admit to enjoying), and then invited her to come and hang out with us the next day.

It was rainy, and she didn't show up when she said she would, and the others didn't think she would come, but I was pretty sure she had really wanted to. And I was right, because of the rain, she hadn't been able to find transportation, so she was 2 hours late, but so happy to join us. We hung out all day, and at night we were playing cards and... well, I'll just cut and paste portions of a letter I just sent to one of my best friends.

Well, my beloved, I'm back and I'm broken hearted... though not in the way you think.

She did come and spend the day with us. She was as beautiful as she had been the night before, and just as sweet. We didn't do very much -- it was rainy, and the sea was really rough, so we mostly just sat around and drank (well, other people drank, I sat around). Later, at night, we went back to our hotel padio and were playing cards when she burst into tears, and continued crying for well over an hour. It would take too long to transcribe the conversation, but the essence was this -- she is a 20 year old precious person who dances half naked at a club so that dirty old men can decide if they want to rent her for the night... and she does this so that she can put food on her parent's table. Do you know what the most stressful thing had been in my life lately? That I was going on vacation with a bunch of skinny chicks and I wouldn't look good in my bathing suit. She is hooking to feed her parents, and I'm worried about my weight. I hate the world.

And I'm angry with myself because I gave her money, but I think I could have given her more. I'm angry thant when trying to figure out how much to give her I thought about how much I needed for the rest of my vacation. My fucking VACATION!

I've been praying so hard -- that one word prayer that I'm left with in times like these - "Please!". And when I can't do that anymore I find myself just cursing. I'm sobbing my eyes out in a ferry terminal as I write this. I hate the world. It just hurts.

I need to stop writing this so that I can compose myself. It's almost morning, we've been here for 4 hours and I think my friends will be waking up soon.

We all gave her our email addresses, and are hoping that we can keep in contact. S. has relatives here and so we will try and get them to help her out. It seems kind of futile, because she is just one person, but it has broken my heart. I keep finding myself on the verge of tears whenever it comes to mind. I can help her maybe. There were dozens of girls there, though. And I'm sure there are many more just on that one island that I didn't see.

Anyway, I thought I would share this. I have never felt such a pull before. A pull to do something... to help in some way. I give to charity, and I put money in those little change boxes by the cash register, but this is a person I now know. It's different. This is going to sound strange, and I don't know how to express it properly, but oh how God's heart must break. I knew her for 36 hours, and I am crying. He knows us all so intimately, and He sees people backed into situations like this poor girl. She was working as a house cleaner, and then her father got sick and couldn't work anymore... so this is what she has been forced to do.

I'll say one completely selfish thing... this certainly puts my life and my issues in perspective.

Anyway, just thought I'd share.

73. Enjoy

Thought I’d better post before taking off for the Philippines.  I don’t have any real blog relevant new thoughts to share, but I thought I’d share something anyway… a little video I made of my kids… so you can see how adorable they are!  So, without further ado, I present… My children!  Enjoy.



And here's a video of a song I taught them.

72. A Little Help, Please - UPDATE

So, I'm reaching out and asking for advice... or at least for affirmation that I'm not going crazy (or an explanation of why I'm going crazy so I can get past this).

So, here's the situation.  S. and D. were dating.  Now they're not.  Now they are just good friends, and it is all good.  They've talked it out, and are both happy with the situation (at least from what S. has told me).  What does this have to do with me?  Well, as much as it sucked, I could rationalize and thereby get past being 'ditched'.  I mean, the three of us hung out a lot together, and when they started dating that sort of stopped.  It sucks realizing that you were being used, but it's not like that hasn't happened to me before.  I realize that it isn't done on purpose.  It's just easier for a guy to ask a couple of girls to hang out than to ask just the one you're actually interested in... I'm often a sort of 'buffer' between the guy and the hot girl.  The fact that our 'three-way' activity stopped rather abruptly when they started dating was kind of a shock to my system, but I understand.  Couples want to be alone together.  That's cool.

But they aren't a couple any more, and something happened last  night that I'm struggling not to be angry over (or more accurately, not to be hurt over).  For almost 2 months, the three of us got together at D's house and watched movies on the weekend.  Well, last night, the four foreign teachers went out for dinner (which was nice).  Before we went out, S. asked if she could borrow a movie from me so that she could go to D's house alone and watch the movie. (A movie, incidentally, that I own, but haven’t seen, and that she knows I haven’t seen because we’ve both talked about how we ‘need to see it’ sometime).  I was actually confused when she asked, and it took about half of dinner for me to realize why.  I couldn’t figure out why she needed to take the copy of the movie to go over to D’s… it didn’t make sense because before they were dating (and to my way of thinking, it should be the same again now, right?) I would have just brought it with me when I went. Honestly, I was perplexed.  And then I was hurt, which quickly transitioned into angry (because angry doesn’t immobilize me).  Now I'm trying not to be angry about it, but I am.  Especially when this morning I had both of them telling me over and over again how awesome the movie was, quoting lines, etc... and all I could think was "Why wasn't I invited?!?!?  It was my movie, for crying out loud!"  Or to quote my thoughts more directly (with apologies in advance)  “What the fuck?!?!”  They're not dating.  S. has been quite clear about that, at least to me.  So why am I being left out now?  Was the level that I was being used at even beyond what I originally thought (and am able to cope with)?  I think it hurt more that it came from S, because at least D’s motivations I could understand when he stopped inviting me to join them.  But S… she has never been as into their relationship as he was, the fact that she initiated this whole thing – a movie night without me… hurts.

So, am I crazy?  Am I overreacting? I want to think I'm overreacting, but I'm just hurt (and am feeling anger instead because that's easier to deal with at work.  I don't want to start crying here).  Argh.  What do I do?  Do I do anything?  I hate confrontation.  I probably won't talk to them about it, but still... help!

********************

So, I took a page from the Book of Grownups and talked it out with S. (Thanks Boo and TransAtlantic Girl). It went well. She had actually noticed what she was doing (ie: how I was being excluded) as that night had gone on (probably about the same time I realized what was going on), but hadn't known how to backtrack and either invite me without being patronizing, or cancel on D. without being rude to him. Which I get. That alone made me feel better, I must say... just to know I wasn't being petty and paranoid (both of those being adjectives that I think would have described me several years ago). (Of course, several years ago, I never would have mentioned it either, so either way it's a step in the right direction). She is also aware that I'm being shafted by their 'coupledom', because the three of us were sort of tight, but when they got tighter, I got squeezed out. She brought that up, not me. I didn't know what to say to that, because it happens -- all the time -- and I'm not sure anything can be done about it. You were right, by the way TransAtlantic Girl, they are still together, sort of. They weren't when she told me they weren't, but they are going up and down so much I'm getting dizzy trying to follow it. Heh, in a letter to a dear friend recently I used the phrase "heterosexual mating rituals are weird!". It was in a completely different context, and not that this is an exclusively straight thing -- but man, it really is confusing to try and follow. I could try and ignore it, but I see them everyday, and knowing the status of their relationship actually does help me in the office.

Anyway, I'm not angry anymore. I'm still a little bit hurt, but that's now on me and I just have to get past it, I think. It's funny, the day after I told S, D invited me over for a 3 day movie marathon of Lord of the Rings... so I'm assuming she told him and now he's attempting to give me a peace offering. I kind of felt bad telling him I didn't want to spend my entire weekend with them (if you know Lord of the Rings, you know how long it will take to watch all three extended version movies -- especially with a newbie like S who has never seen the movies or read the books), not to mention the fact that inviting me the next day did feel a bit forced.

Well that's it. Just thought you'd all want to know. I know this wasn't blog relevant, but I appreciate your help anyway.

71. Personal Jesus

So, I’m reading this book right now called The Culture of Make Believe on the recommendation of one of my coworkers.  It’s a fascinating book, dealing with both historical and modern injustices and how the people who are committing the injustices deal with their role in the equation without admitting guilt.  To reference a fairly simple example, the slave owners often justified their position by insisting that they were bringing Christianity to their slaves, thereby saving them from their ‘savagery’.  

Anyway, in the author’s lengthy discussion about slavery (and I have to stop here and admit that I have not finished the book… it is huge! So perhaps he continues this discussion at some point, I don’t know), he makes some off the cuff statements about Christianity and the Church that angered me.  One of them particularly stood out, because it was only half of a thought, and he doesn’t seem to ever come back and complete it.  The statement was this (not necessarily completely accurate as I don’t have a copy of the book right here, I’ve left it at work): “To say that Christianity is opposed to slavery is to not understand Christianity at all.”

It frustrated me, because the other half of that coin was never exposed… which is “To say that Christianity supports slavery is to not understand Christianity at all.”  What I mean by this is that it is quite clear if you read Scripture that Christianity was never meant to be concerned with politics or economics.  Democracy, capitalism, etc… these are not “Christian” ideals, these are Western ideals.  Every time anyone tried to engage Jesus in a political discussion he always shut them down because that was not what He was about.  It’s not like there weren’t injustices going on all around Him that He couldn’t have spoken out about.  It’s not like there wasn’t immorality inherent in the system of the day that He couldn’t have opposed.  That just wasn’t His intention.  And Paul, as the writer of most of the New Testament, upheld this standard, he never told anyone to support or reject any particular system, even one as abhorrent as slavery (even though it is fairly obvious in his writing that he did not approve  -- “there is neither slave nor free” etc…).  Christianity was never meant to be about anything more (or less) than an individual’s personal relationship with God through Christ.  This, incidentally, is one of the reasons I get so aggravated with the Religious Right movement… this attempt to use Christianity in a way it isn’t meant to be used (at least, according to how I see it).

So, what does this have to do with what I normally write about here?  Well, again this is one of those times when you’d have to live in my brain.  (Which, yet again, you can all be thankful isn’t possible.)  I was responding to a comment when this idea of the ‘personalness’ of Christianity came up.    I found myself being perhaps too curt with this commenter because again I felt frustrated by what seemed to be a lack of understanding, or to put it more clearly, an assumption that they did understand something that, from their comment, it appeared that they did not.   What was this statement?  Well, among other things it was that I need to stop seeking the approval of others.  Because I’m in a chatty mood (it’s 1:32 in the morning here and I’m very verbose in the middle of the night), I’ll say that I believe that community is very important, and that the Western Church often puts way too much emphasis on the ‘individualistic’ aspect of Christianity, ignoring the fact that our faith was meant to be lived out in community (much like how I believe that life in general is meant to be lived in some sort of community).  That having been said, this debate I’m having really has nothing to do with seeking the approval of others.  Do I want this approval?  Of course I do.  I’d love to think that no matter what I do, or where I land in this debate, my friends will approve of my choices, but I know that that is just not possible.  Some people will be upset and disappointed should I end up choosing celibacy and others will be upset and disappointed should I end up choosing to pursue a relationship with a woman.  

If it was merely about other people’s approval, I’d be out trying to date women right now.  I know it would probably mean losing a lot of friends, and I’d almost certainly have to leave my church (not that I think I’d get kicked out, I just don’t think I’d feel comfortable fellowshipping with people who probably wouldn’t think I was a Christian).  And my mother… man, that’s just a nightmare to think about.  Perhaps I wouldn’t tell her, if I’m perfectly honest.  And I’d probably end up leaving Ottawa (a city that I love) in order to find a community of believers that I could fellowship with.  As much as all of that would suck, and I know I’d cry (a lot), I’d do it.  I’ve been uprooted enough times in my life (both forcibly as a child moving around with my mother, and voluntarily as an adult eager to explore the globe) to know that I can survive it.  I can make new friends and start again.  It doesn’t scare me.  And it would be worth it to get what I think people get from those personal and intimate relationships they have with their partners in life.  

And the debate between Side A and B (and even X, even though I tend to dismiss that side of the equation) is not even to see which side ‘wins’. (Although, I admit to wishing that one side could just ‘win me over’ and then I could be done with this.)  

No, the ‘debate’ (I even hesitate to call it that right now) is about how I live my life as God wants me to.  As self centered as this sounds (and really, how else is it going to sound on my blog?), this is about my relationship with God.  It’s not about other people’s approval, it’s about His.  And it’s not even so much about His approval as it is about our relationship.  I want to be able to relate to my Father, my Friend, my Lord… and I can’t do that if I’m engaging in behavior that I believe He has said is wrong.  (Not that our relationship is all that great right now, but that’s an issue for another post.)  And, as I am unconvinced on this issue either way, I do nothing.  

There’s a Christian cliché that is often used to bully non-Christians into listening to us talk.  I’ve heard my mother do this on more than one occasion as some poor waitress, or mechanic or whatever tried to politely get out of a religious debate by saying “I’m just not religious.”  My mother counters with this Christian cliché, “It’s not a religion, it’s a relationship,” and then she keeps talking while they try and figure out what on earth she just said.  As much as I’m not a fan of this phrase (it cost me a lot of money, as I often went back to our table and left extra money as a tip because I felt so bad for the poor waitresses, as my mother would bombard them, and then leave pittance as a tip!), it’s true.  What Christ was concerned about was not ‘religion’ as we tend to use the word today.  There was plenty of religion in Israel at the time.  What He came to do was to provide a way for us to have a relationship with God.  A personal, intimate, individual relationship with God.  And if that was what Christ was concerned with, then it is what I want to be concerned with.  

Anyway, it’s now 1:53 am, and I should try and go back to sleep.  

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?