Distanced Friends

I’m sorry it came as a shock. It was quite a shock for me too. I get it, well, at least I get some of it. I’m not the person you thought I was, and no matter how long you’d known me before my coming out, that’s been a hard adjustment for you. It took a bit for me to adjust also, and I gave myself plenty of time before I told you. This was on purpose.

For starters, and to be honest, I had to see if was going to be worth it, personally; laying aside the fact that I am now happily married, I foresaw nothing of the sort back then. (I had yet to even meet the soul who is now my wife.)  So with the assumption that I would stay happily single, was it really going to be worth the risk? I wasn't sure.

Soon enough, I had to change my line of questioning. As I became comfortable in my own skin, I realized how much freer I’d become. I wanted this for others—for you. Believe it or not, I thought of you and others and how I’d feel if the tables were turned. Would I want you to hide who you were, even if you were happier, because I was uncomfortable with it? Hiding who we are is not a healthy way for us to live. I don’t want others, no doubt others who are in your life right now, hiding for fear of rejection.Yeah, they're there in your life, they just haven't gotten up the courage to tell you yet.

It is true, I am different than I was in many ways. I’m happier. I’m freer. I’m more honest. I even think I’m funnier, but that may be up for debate! I am myself. At least I am becoming more myself every day—it’s a journey. I really wish you knew me now! I wake up each day alive—not just breathing, but alive!

Okay, so now the details. Yeah, that.  I am gay, and I have a wife, and you’re uncomfortable with that. It doesn’t have to be awkward you know. Do you have questions? Ask. (Yes, we have sex, and, no, I won't talk about it.) No questions? No worries. We don’t make a habit of sitting around and forcing others to talk about being gay. Do you sit around and talk about being straight? We’re all so much more than one dimensional; we're more alike than we are different. We just want to spend time with you.

My wife and I, we love to talk. We play scrabble. We cook together. We walk together. We write, we hike, we laugh...often. We plan our future together. My wife is studying human rights, we’re both concerned about climate change, so those topics are always on the table for discussion if you'd prefer.

We’re now [sort of] legally married in all states. Did you know that? My colleagues at work congratulated me when I walked into work that day.  It made me smile. While I didn’t expect a call from you, I thought about how nice it would have been. Whatever you’ve been taught about the evils of my life is wrong. I know, I once thought all those horrible things myself, about myself, but they’re unfounded and harmful.

Lastly, I simply miss you in my life, and it saddens me that you don’t know my wife. She’s really something. (Last week, her dentist asked me if I knew that I was married to the nicest person in the world. I quickly told him I was aware.) 

Let's face it. You and me, we’ll we’ve been through some intense shit together, if I may be so bold, and you were the kind of person I wanted to hang onto in this life. Honestly, you were the kind of person I thought would see this thing through.

We’re in this thing called life together, you know. I value your place in my life; I wish you’d come around more often.

Peace to you and your journey,

Your gay friend

***As is my life, this blog is a work in progress; my desire is to facilitate constructive and respectful conversations about life and our collective journey towards peace. This has become an obsession. Please add "your two cents worth" below, and feel free to share this blog. 

The more the merrier! Understanding ourselves helps us understand others; therefore bringing us one step closer to attaining peace.***

"Do Something"

Yesterday, as I was sitting on the beach, my first day of vacation, with my toes in the sand next to the love of my life, I began to think about my journey to this very day. In comparison to the frustrated, directionless, crushed individual I was eleven years ago…well, there really is no comparison.

The journey is still something of a wonderment to me, and I will openly admit I had no idea where I was headed, but I just remember thinking I can’t stay here. By here I didn’t mean a physical location, although I did end up relocating eventually. I was stuck and frozen with panic. By here I meant in the place that was suffocating me.

My dad has a saying: “Do something, even if it’s wrong.” He’s a bit of a guru if you ask me, because that’s the mentality that motivated my first few steps. I had no idea where I was going or what I was doing, but I knew staying in the place of darkness was certain death to my soul.  I had to do something, even if it was wrong.

Now obviously this was not a father’s encouragement for his daughter to pursue bank robbery as an occupation; hopefully, you get the meaning behind the message. When life as we know it comes to a screeching halt, it is difficult to get it going again. To stay stuck was to let the situation drain all the life out of me, and I wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of saying they’d destroyed my life.

My first few steps were wobbly. I was bobbing and weaving all over the place, but I was moving, albeit slowly. Life was slowly coming back to me. When I would catch myself falling back into those places of panic, I would make great effort to change my frame of mind, my situation, and my mood.

I still didn’t know where I was going, and I still didn’t really have a goal other than just not here, but I slowly began to realize that these steps were leading me away from self-pity, anger, and negativity. Buddhism has taught me that it’s okay to acknowledge and accept that life isn’t fair, but self-pity, anger, and negativity are nasty beasts by which to be bitten. They do not lead to a healthy life.

As I kept walking (or kept swimming if you ask Dory) I began to regain my focus. I realized I had a voice, I began to see the world with compassion, and I figured out where I wanted to go. It didn’t come quickly, but I learned to be purposeful in my doings. If I caught myself replaying conversations or situations from the past, I would change the topic in my head. I learned to force my mind to stay in safe places.

Life isn’t very fair, and sometimes, quite frankly, it just downright sucks, but it is life and it is always changing. If you find yourself stuck, do something, anything, big or small, to break the cycle that keeps pulling you under. Refuse to let pain, disappointment, or hurt define who you are and where you’ll go. If you’re not sure of your destination, at least move from where you no longer want a permanent address. Life in transit is an okay place to be for a time. Just let yourself be there. Don’t panic, just keep swimming. At least you’ll be moving and life will begin to flow again.  

Updates

Hello to anyone and everyone!

It has been awhile, I know. I have been focused on two more edits of the memoir, and I'm happy to announce that it looks like it is nearing the next phase. Although I polish a little here and a little there with every re-read, I am so happy with the way it has turned out.

My next phase will be submission. I have a few LGBT publishing houses in mind that seem to be interested in memoirs, so I will start there. We'll see where this leads; I am in this for the long haul, so I will not stop until it is published!

As I read through the pages of the last edit,  I recalled the motivation of writing Leaving God; Finding Me in the first place. When I was younger, I would have given anything to have been able to hear someone's story--to know someone felt the feelings I felt. It would have made me feel less odd, less confused, less alone. There are far too many people today struggling with confusion over sexuality and/or religion. (I am constantly amazed at how often these two go hand in hand.)

My reason for writing is simple. To tell those who struggle, YOU ARE NOT ALONE. You are beautiful just the way you are; live your life, and be happy.

Whatever the outcome, I am so grateful for this journey. The future is bright and full of opportunities.

Peace!