Gay Parents = Gay Kids?

Sorry I've been gone for so long. I'm in the middle of my last semester at college. So, as you can imagine, it's been very time consuming (but also very fun and enjoyable).

I read this article on gay parents being more likely than straight parents to produce gay children and found it intriguing and worth writing about. The statistics and research presented in this article/study doesn't surprise me at all. To begin with, if homosexuality is genetic, then it only fits that gay parents may pass on gay genes to their children, thus causing their children to also become gay. Likewise, it makes perfect sense to me that if homosexuality is environmentally based, homosexual parents may be more likely (either intentionally or unintentionally) to have an influence on their children also becoming homosexual. I can certainly see how a child growing up in a home with homosexual parents would at the very least be much more open to the idea of being with someone of the same sex (just as heterosexual parents may influence their children to becoming heterosexual--again, if sexuality is environmentally based). Regardless of the origin/s of homosexual orientation, I think all people can agree that parents of any type have an overwhelming influence on the kids they raise. And for that reason alone, I'm not surprised to find evidence that gay parents are statistically more likely to have gay children.

Prop 8 Overturned

So the news today is that the highly controversial gay marriage ban in California, known as Proposition 8, has been struck down by Chief U.S. District Judge Vaughn Walker. I could go into all the details of this ruling, but those are points of interest which many others are sure to write about on other sites, so I will refrain from going there. I will, however, give you my thoughts on this decision…

I say it’s about time.

As you all know, I am a Christian. I am also gay (I say that only meaning that I find other guys attractive). What this means is that I can somewhat objectively look at the issue of gay marriage from two different perspectives. In a lot of ways, I do agree with a lot of those in support of Prop 8. I believe marriage was designed and defined by God, and that it was meant to be something between a man and a woman only. I also agree that marriage has historically only been that way. However, I am not in support of Proposition 8.

My reasons for this are many. To begin with, I don’t believe anyone has the right to tell two consenting adults what sort of relationships they should or should not be allowed to have with each other. It’s nobody’s business if two men (or two women) want to love and be with each other and celebrate their relationship through a state of marriage. Just like what goes on in their bedroom is no one else’s business. I really wonder what straight people would think and feel if they were told they couldn’t have sex anymore, or date, or get married. They’d find it a travesty and an outrage. And yet, when they tell gay people they can’t do those things, it’s supposed to be perfectly okay, and they can’t understand the outcry against them. Go figure, but I find the argument on their part more than hypocritical. Just as I think it’s nothing short of immoral to prevent gay partners from having things such as inheritance, medical, and parental rights.

Secondly, I don’t think it is right for Christians to force (or at least try to force) their viewpoints onto others. I get so frustrated by people who think everyone should believe exactly as they do. And, again, when they try to force their viewpoints onto others and the response given back to them is mostly negative, they just can’t seem to understand this. They cut their own throats by trying to bully people into their way of thinking. Now, on this point, it is my belief that if Christians would say “live and let live” and allow gays and lesbians just to live their lives and make their own choices, and actually treat them with kindness, respect, love, and understanding—you know, the way Jesus treated people—then the response given back to them would be more positive. As I’ve said before, you can’t win flies with vinegar.

Thirdly, the whole argument that gay marriage will destroy the family is so bogus it’s laughable. How can gay marriage possibly devastate the family more than divorce? You’re talking about two men who may or may not somehow end up being able to raise a kid. Wow, the horror of it! It’s not like that’s something that doesn’t already happen among heterosexuals. I’m helping to raise my brother’s kids, for instance (think of Two and Half Men also—that’s a more common family set up than you may think). Oh, and, if you didn’t know, Christians have the highest divorce rate in this country. Anyone who has been through a divorce or experienced their parent’s divorce should know just how devastating that can be on everyone involved. Seems like if marriage was so important to Christians, then they’d actually, you know, work more on their own marriages.

And before this post just turns into a complete rant, I’ll leave my reasoning at that. What I’ve said so far is enough in itself to believe that gay marriage should be allowed. I don’t have to agree or approve of gay marriage, but I’ll be if I’m going to block others from it if that’s something they want to do.

Awkwardness in the Underwear Aisle

School is about to begin again. This will be my last semester until graduation, which means I’ll be student teaching. I’m nervous about this, but ready for it to begin. I think I’m more anxious than anything for it to just be over with, that way I can finally get hired somewhere and begin a new chapter of my life. It’s what I’ve been working toward for the last two years now.

Anyway, the other day I went to the store to pick up some things I knew I’d be needing for school; mostly new clothes, since I didn’t have enough formal attire for teaching that would satisfy being in a school five days a week (khaki pants and dress shirts). Like most people, I wear underwear, and that being the case, I knew it wouldn’t hurt to pick up a few new pairs while I was at it. So, I found myself walking down the underwear aisle. You might imagine that this is an aisle frequented mostly by men, but you’d be wrong in assuming that. It never fails that whenever I go to pick out underwear the aisle has at least one or two women standing around—no doubt shopping for their husbands—and I usually turn out to be the only guy around. Now, I don’t know if women find it awkward for men to be in the ladies underwear aisles (for whatever reason they would be), but I’ll admit I find it quite awkward to be choosing, and thereby announcing, what sort of underwear I wear in front of women. It almost, in a weird sort of way, just makes me feel naked in front of them, as if all of a sudden I’m stripped right down to my underwear. Because of this, I try to avoid going down the men’s underwear aisle until it is in the clear (though this is nearly impossible, because for every women that leaves, another seems to always show up, which just makes me end up wanting to scream for all of them to get out of the place—though I never actually have).

Not only do I find it awkward picking out underwear with women staring over my shoulder, but being of the sexual persuasion I am, I admit it seems a bit awkward to go walking down an aisle looking at a bunch of packages with almost completely naked (and usually good looking) men plastered all over their covers. I often find myself holding my breath and my heart rate increasing while in this aisle, which just makes me a bit self-conscious, wondering if my appeal to the imagery is noticeable to others. I do try not to look too long at any of the packages. I know which type of underwear I generally like (and to satisfy any curiosities, I’ll tell you it’s Hanes boxer briefs) and so I can usually just get them and go and all remains good in the world. But there are times when I can’t find the usual and do have to do some looking to decide what I want.

I wonder if the reason the men’s underwear aisle is usually devoid of other men is because, like me, most men just feel uncomfortable being there. If someone sees you looking at how the underwear looks on another guy, will they think you’re gay? I can imagine other men thinking this, whether gay or straight. Most men may just not like seeing all of those pictures of other men. There again, like me, they may just not like choosing their underwear in front of women. As for the women, I suppose they could just be a bunch of pervs who, like me, find the packaging appealing, but, unlike me, feel unabashed about looking.

What do you think?

All the Missing People

You’d think with three titles in a row including “All the Missing” that I must be missing something or other, and you’d be right in assuming that. For whatever reason, I have been feeling kind of nostalgic and sentimental lately. I’ve been thinking about a lot of the people I’ve met and become friends with over the years. Some of them are still a part of my life, but others aren’t. I miss a lot of people. There are so many people who I really would like to have gotten closer to, or to have just stayed in contact with.

I hate making a really good friend just to see the friendship between us slowly fade into practically nothing. I hate feeling like I’ve lost friends. I know people come into and out of your life all the time. This is normal and most people experience this, I know. But still, I hate this part of it.

I feel like I miss people all the time, more than not, and I just absolutely hate having this feeling. Every once in a while I’ll run into someone, and I like that I do. It’s usually never the same though. Time passes and people move away and live their lives, go places, do things, change from the people you knew them to be. It amazes me just how much people can change. I know I’m not the same person I was ten years ago. Everyone changes. And that being the case, it is understandable why friends don’t stay the same, why they move in and out of your life and why old friends go and new friends come along. I get this. It still doesn’t help me keep from missing people though.

All the Missing Minutes

One thing I should have emphasized more in my last post is my fear of the future. I can be hopeful and wish for the best, but with the future comes a great deal of uncertainty. I hate making plans and counting on things to be a certain way just for those plans and expectations to be altered. Granted, this can be a good thing, and I do try to look at such changes in that light. But, still, I hate for my plans to be changed by random uncertainties. On top of that, I do often doubt my resolve, abilities, and decisions. I like writing, for example, and would love to get a book published someday that would get some attention, but I doubt my own writing skills and abilities to be able to pull that off. And I do second guess myself a great deal of the time as well—I’ve been told I need a bit more self-confidence, and in this I’m sure others have been correct in telling me so. Regardless of the reasons for my fear of the future though, it will suffice to say simply that I do sometimes have that fear.

I really do just wish I could freeze time or go back and relive certain moments though. I feel like the minutes of the clock just keep ticking by and the next thing I know I’ve wasted a whole day or not been able to do everything I wanted to do. And then I dread tomorrow (enough so at times that I’ve honestly just not wanted to go to sleep at night, as if there’s a fear that each day will be my last and I won’t get any more time).

As I said before, I’ve been feeling nostalgic, which is usually a feeling that gets me nowhere; it’s only about looking back. I wish I could go back to my middle school days. I really loved that time in my life, that time between sixth and eighth grades. I had several friends, loved my teachers/school, was doing well in school, actually got along with my parents, and everything just seemed so much easier and less complicated. I miss past summers. I wish I could relive this time last year. I was reading through the Harry Potter books for the first time, and as stupid as it may sound, that was a blessing and a truly uplifting experience for me. I stand in awe of what J.K. Rowling has created in the Harry Potter series—it leaves me without words really. And I wish for certain other things as well.

I guess the point of this post is just to say that I wish I had more time. I never feel like I can get enough stuff done that I’d like to. That and I do hold onto the past too much and fear the unknown. I see that and understand it, and I know it’s something I shouldn’t do so much. I’m going to try to work on those things.

In the meantime, I hear the clock a ticking…

All the Missing Pieces

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m a fairly sentimental sort of person.

I’ve been feeling rather nostalgic lately. I keep thinking about friends I’ve had, classes I’ve taken, former teachers, just certain moments in time. I keep thinking about when my dad and I played through a few video games together back in ’03 and ’04. I really enjoyed that time. I keep thinking about all the summers I spent working on the lake, all the assignments I’ve had to complete the last couple of years in school, past vacations, time spent with friends hanging out.

I find myself daydreaming in the past.

I see many mistakes. I have a lot of regrets. My life has been riddled with these things. I see many good times, wise decisions, and lucky turns as well though. I’d say, overall, I have actually had a rather average life. Like anyone else I’ve had my ups and downs.

I wish sometimes that I could go back and relive certain times though. Some of these times so that I could relive their enjoyment and others so that I could make certain corrections and right particular wrongs.

I feel so often as though something is missing in my life. Perhaps this is just because I spend too much time looking back, missing certain things, or that I, despite trying not to be, have a “glass is half empty” outlook about things. But I know it, too, could be due to a lack of self confidence and hope for a future that resembles anything at all like what I’d want it to be. The future I’d like to have always seems so allusive. For instance, just as I’m about to begin student teaching, the county where I live and many surrounding are forced by the state to lay off many new teachers, enough so that I am now fearful about my prospects for finding a job teaching anytime soon. At times like this I remind myself to be patient, though I admit, my patience is tested much more often that I’d like or feel like I can even withstand.

I’m growing very tired of my present circumstances. I suppose I’m far from alone in feeling this way. It’s good to dream and to hope and want for a better life, and most people do this. It’s good to enjoy life in its present as well though. I think that’s something I forget to do sometimes. Other times I just feel as though time is ticking away and all I can think or wish for is just a little more time, to sort of freeze time and enjoy the present a little longer.

I guess I just want and long for more good moments in life. I’m kind of craving that at the moment. To be honest, I just feel as though my life is one big puzzle, and I’m just trying to figure out where all the pieces fit, to make as few mistakes as possible, enjoy the game, and someday finish on top, with everything in place and as it should be.

Honey Verses Vinegar

Jeff posted an incredible story on his blog, and I thought it was worth posting as well. Please read this story, as it demonstrates the type of positive, rather than often times negative, impact Christians can have on others.

I know what it feels like to be mistreated by fellow Christians. It hurts. I've never received an apology from the ones who mistreated me, or from the church where they attended, but it would feel so nice and would ease certain bitterness, anger, and disappointment if they would. What you have hopefully read and understood from this story is that there are so many homosexuals (and others) out there, hurting, and that much of that hurt has come from the church itself. And there's no reason for it. Sinners don't have to be feared, hated, bashed, belittled, tortured, rejected or anything else like that. Instead, they should be loved.

You can't help people if you treat them like crap. You have to set a good example, and pray and help them to be better people. And even if that doesn't work, you must still love, pray and help them, but also understand that each person has his or her own decisions to make in life. You may not like some of the decisions other people make, but these are their decisions to make and their lives to live. Just because you disagree with them, doesn't mean you should mistreat them. That never says anything about them, or helps them in any way whatsoever. But it does say something rather negative about you if that is the sort of person you choose to be. So, don't be that type of Christian. And, if you have been in the past, seriously think about saying "I'm sorry" to the person you mistreated.

Tonight's Weather Report

I love watching it lightning at night time. Tonight I saw an approaching storm and decided to sit out on the front porch to watch it. It wasn't anything more than a few rumbles and some rain. It didn't quite make it south enough to reach where I live though, but the split seemed to be just over my house. It was awesome to look up and see the most amazingly clear sky full of sparkling stars, and then right next to it, these huge masses of clouds, with lightning dancing all about them. It was truly magnificent to watch. It was as if nature was putting on a fireworks display of its own.

It was warm today. Humid, too. I'm sure that's what brought this all about. Most of the lightning was probably nothing more than heat lightning. But regardless, it was so peaceful out tonight. The nearby storm brought with it a cooler air, which really did help take away some of the humidity. And I found it all so calming. I see the beauty and wonder of God in such things. It's as if God was giving me a great gift, a wondrous spectacle of His created nature.

Not only was there lightning. There were lightning bugs in the yard and in the trees and fields, glittering over everything. And the crickets and tree frogs were singing steadily and softly.

I just love summer.

Why Does It Matter?

I keep thinking about what it means to say I’m gay. I’ve usually meant that in terms of what sexual attractions I have for other people; I find men attractive, and women sort of neutral. It’s also meant how I come to think about myself as well though. But I wonder if I have perceived being gay as meaning what sort of sex I’d like to have, rather than what sort of relationships I would like to have. I keep thinking about the relationship I had with Eve. It wasn’t built on sex, or for that matter sexual desire. It was built on friendship, care, love, and emotion.

I keep having trouble trying to figure myself out. I feel as though so much of the time I’ve only been thinking about wanting a sexual relationship, or something lustful, or someone to help cure periods of loneliness, rather than the sort of relationship, if any, I should have been looking for.

Maybe too many people are just looking for sex. I wonder if maybe that’s what I was really looking for or wanting all those years rather than a serious, healthy relationship. What I had with Eve wasn’t what I expected it to be. It wasn’t what I’d been looking for in a relationship. It was far better than anything I’d been looking for, and it was far different than what I’d wanted.

I guess my point is that maybe I’d been focusing too much on wanting a particular kind of sex when I should have been focusing on wanting a healthy relationship with someone, built on friendship, trust, and love. And I wonder if that’s the case with others; particularly among gay identified men. Maybe we are too focused on sex itself, rather than on what really makes sex something meaningful and special.

And maybe we identify who we are too much upon trivial differences. I know I’m not as masculine as a lot of men. But how is that something that should make me feel different from other men? Not all men, even straight men, are masculine. A lot of men aren’t masculine. And, really, since when should one’s level of masculinity define who they are as a person? Why has that mattered to me?

If being with Eve made me realize anything, it’s that all those stupid labels people put upon themselves don’t really matter at all. Being gay or straight, bisexual, tall, short, fat, skinny, ugly, beautiful, black, white, purple, green, or yellow, none it really matters. You just are who you are. It’s just that causing those labels to box yourself into a corner in life isn’t any good; you become limited so much.

I’m not sure being gay really means that much to me anymore. Not that it was ever anything to feel prideful about or anything like that, but just that it was a big part of how I saw myself. Maybe some of those old mindsets of mine have become broken somewhat. I’m not saying I’m no longer gay, or that I’m no longer attracted to men. I’m just saying that the fact that I am doesn’t seem to matter so much to me anymore. As though being gay is no better or worse than any other part of me. It’s just another thing, and not something that should limit me any more than the color of my hair or the shape of my eyes. It doesn’t really matter.

Something Special

It’s been a long time since I wrote on this blog. I hadn’t planned on taking such a long break, but it just sort of happened that way. The last few months have been… well, I’m not sure how to describe them. School was pretty difficult this time around. I had some hard classes and a lot to have to do. I had to complete and then revise a TPA, which determined whether I’d be allowed to become a student teacher this fall. That was a very tiresome and stressful project. There was a lot riding on it. The revisions alone were two weeks worth of nearly killing myself in order to complete, on top of everything else I needed to do for my regular classes.

School has taken up a great deal of my time the last few months. It wasn’t all that took up my time though. I wrote something very foolish a few months ago. And to be honest, I feel like it was a different me that wrote it. I said something to the effect that a woman wanting to be with me was not a blessing. I was wrong to ever think that. From mid February until just a couple of weeks ago I had a girlfriend. Remember that girl I talked about liking me from school, who had become a great friend, but one that I knew liked me more romantically? We continued spending time together outside of school. We went on a date. We didn’t call it that, but that’s what it was. We went somewhere to eat in the next county, and then saw a movie together. I’ll admit, I remember feeling very nervous about being with her, but at the same time feeling so drawn to her. My mind is filled with that memory right now. I can see every moment, her reactions, expressions, and remember half of what we talked about and the sound of her voice. I’d nearly forgotten though just how long it took us to say goodnight to each other. When we got back in the county, we just sat in the car and talked, neither of us really wanting the evening to end. We emailed each other back and forth several times that same night. From then on we were a couple.

For the purposes of this blog, I’ll name her Eve. We hadn’t dated long when I told her how I feel about other men. She handled that news rather incredibly. She said that it didn’t matter. And I’m sure it never did. I never expected to find someone who’d feel that way. It was a great relief that she felt that way, that she still wanted me.

Eve and I did everything together. We took a trip to Nashville, which was one of the best experiences of my life. We saw the Hermitage, the Parthenon, went to Opry Mills, bought books. At the gift shop at the Hermitage, we both headed straight for the children’s books. When we were checking out, the cashier asked if we were both teachers. She said she could usually tell whenever a person goes straight for the kids books like that. Both of us left there feeling a little proud—we were recognized as teachers!

Eve introduced me to her family. They were really nice and I enjoyed meeting them. And when her stepmom cooked spaghetti, something Eve knew I wasn’t fond of, she covered for me. I don’t know anyone else in my life that would have done that. Anyone else I know would have put me on the spot and made a big to do about it. Instead, she looked out for me.

We went bowling together with her daughter. I had so much fun that night. We had fun. It was really the first time I’d gotten to be around… oh, I’ll call her Gracie, and it was great. For a fleeting moment, I remember thinking that night, so this must be what it’s like to have a family.

We watched movies at her place. The first time we did this, she snuggled up against me. My heart was beating so fast. We held hands and kissed. I looked into her eyes and watched as they turned from a bluish gray to the most amazing shade of blue I’ve ever seen, so bright and glimmering. I remember being so amazed by that. I was sort of dumbstruck by it, actually, and I commented on it. “Your eyes are so blue,” I told her. And then it dawned on me, “Like a mood ring.” I knew she loved me. There’s something about that that I know has changed me forever. She loved me.

She took me to two of her most favorite spots. We walked across an old wooden bridge, held each other. We sat by a lake, and watched as the sun went down and the stars filled the sky—we had trouble finding the little dipper and the north star. She was cold and I held her to keep her warm, and gave her my jacket.

We helped each other with our homework and with finishing our TPAs. We ate lunch together every day after classes. I waited for her to finish her last class; she waited for me. We helped each other study for tests. Every time we were together it was like we were magnets being pulled toward each other.

Eve and I made a lot of plans. We were going to go camping this summer together, go on a few more Nashville-like trips, maybe go fishing, spend more time together just in general. She’d wanted to celebrate graduation together this next Christmas by going on a cruise to Mexico. I was really looking forward to all of these things. We’d even discussed our feelings about marriage, kids, what sort of future we could have together.

I played Candy Land with Gracie. I hit a baseball for her to practice catching for Little League. I danced with her in the living room. I watched some of her favorite television shows with her. I read books to her. I won’t lie and say that I always enjoyed being around her. I didn’t most of the time. I liked Gracie. She was a good, sweet little girl. But I never knew how to respond to or act around her. I always felt like I was going to break her or be too rough to play with her like I do with my nephews. And she cried at the least little thing. She’s a very emotional child. But Eve was really good with her. I saw how good a mother she was. And that meant a lot.

I have so many great memories now. I experienced so many great things. I felt loved. I felt for the first time in a really long time that I could actually end up having a family of my own. That’s something quite indescribable to experience. I fell in love with someone for the first time in my life…

For a couple of weeks I knew something was different. Something happened that shook our relationship. We talked and agreed to stand by each other, but within just a few days time, after everything had ran its course, I knew there was a problem. And then she broke up with me. For a few days after that I felt like someone had ripped something physically and emotionally away from me, as if an entire part of me and future outcome of my life had been destroyed forever. And I still feel that way some. I cried and hurt until I was exhausted. I don’t know if I’ve ever truly felt so great a sense of loss at any other time before.

I’m honestly not sure why she decided to break up with me. But I will concede it may have honestly been for the best. Maybe she saw that before I could. I know myself enough to know that committing to marry her would have been really hard. It would have been really difficult for me to give up some of my own plans and dreams in life to have stayed with her. But still, I could see myself having done that for her, for us. I think I’ll always wonder what we could have had together though—the life we could have shared. We’re still going to be friends. We both agreed we wanted that. We agreed from the beginning that whatever happened between us, we wanted to remain friends. But that’s not quite the same thing, is it.

God blessed me. For a time in my life I got to experience something so wonderful, so unexpected, something I have absolutely no regrets about. I know what it’s like to really be loved. I know what it’s like to really be in love with someone else. I know what it’s like to be a part of something so special that no words I know can even begin to describe how I feel about it.

I don’t feel like I’m the same person anymore. I feel like God showed me something that’s changed my life forever. It’s such a beautiful thing how God can mess with you like that sometimes. And I’m glad I let him. He showed me something I’d have never seen otherwise.

New Day, by Robbie Seay Band

I like this song.



I like this version too. These kids singing this song look like me just hearing it.

My Blog is Porn? Really?

Well, in the usual fashion to get to my blog, I entered the name of my blog on Netscape. Out of curiosity, I looked at the search results to see where all my blog was popping up. As it turned out, another blogger had referenced my blog in one of his recent posts. He had this to say:

“What's that you say? That last one [Afterthoughts on a Whirlwind Journey] isn't a sex blog? No. It's not, but it's still a porn blog. Reading the private, inner thoughts of a closeted Christian struggling with his attraction to men (Whose love will he pick Jesus or another man's? Will he realize that it's not an either/or decision?) is totally pornographic. Totally.”

I have to admit, the idea of my blog being a “porn blog” is sort of bewildering to me. I’ve never thought of my blog being anything that could be described as erotic. I have tried to avoid being blatantly graphic in descriptions of my thoughts/past, and, to the best of my knowledge, I have yet to post any inappropriate images or videos. So I am confused by someone finding my blog to have an erotic appeal to it. I am intrigued, though, because I wonder now what it is about my blog that might come across as pornographic or overtly erotic. Perhaps the nature of my blog, the fact that I am a “closeted (for the most part) Christian struggling with his attraction to men” and that I have shared some “private, inner thoughts”, does appeal to the erotic fantasies or stimuli of some people. Whatever the reason, if my blog does come across that way, this “totally” throws me for a loop. The intentions of my blog has never been to provide material for anyone’s sexual pleasure, but merely to be a place where people, like myself, who have struggled with their sexuality, can read about and learn from my own experiences and gain comfort in knowing that they are not alone in their own struggles. But, whereas I do not see the erotic appeal, far be it from me to suggest that nobody else does/can.

I guess the question I should ask now is does my blog have a pornographic, sexual, or otherwise inappropriate feel, perception, or appeal to it? If you think it does, I’d honestly like to know why. If you think it doesn’t, give me your viewpoint as well. I’m just trying to figure this thing out.

Moving onto another topic… how many of you think Conan O’Brien should stay the host of the Tonight Show? This has sort of been in the news a bunch lately. But just so that everyone knows where I stand on the issue, I think Leno should move on, Conan should stay, and NBC should wholeheartedly support the new guy (who’s just as good if not better than his predecessor). Just because Leno’s new show hasn’t panned out doesn’t mean the entire late night schedule and the lives and careers of all those involved should be messed around with. I just prefer Conan O’Brien to Jay Leno. There. I said it. Sue me.

Woman

God said it wasn’t good for man to be alone, and so He created woman from man, to be a helpmate to him. Woman was a gift to man, a being of similarity who man could talk to, share experiences, and ultimately love and create with. Woman was called good when she was created, and man accepted her and made her his. She was a blessing, as they both were, together.

Throughout most of my life, the better friendships I have had have been with women. That’s been true for as long as I can remember. I’ve often enjoyed more female activities/talk than I have enjoyed that by most other men. Naturally, because of that, the friendships I’ve had with women have been able to develop more easily because of this.

About a year and a half after I graduated high school, I made a decision to try in earnest to make friends with other men. At the time, I really don’t know that I can say I had any male friends. To correct this, I decided to take a job which forced me to have to be around a lot of other guys, and this in itself allowed me many opportunities for finding and developing commonalities with other men. What I came to realize was that I shared many interests with them. I began to see that I wasn’t as different as I’d always thought I was. And after a few years working at this particular job, I found myself becoming more mature and more comfortable among men. At the same time, however, I’ve found myself wanting less and less friendship from women.

I still tend to develop friendships with women much faster than with men, but in the last couple of years, particularly, I haven’t sought to encourage or seek out those friendships as I used to. To be brutally honest, I’ve found myself, at times, wanting nothing to do with women at all. This isn’t to suggest that I’m against women now. It’s just that the desire for their friendship hasn’t been of one of my greatest interests. And in saying that, I also do not mean that I’ve become unfriendly toward women. It just means that I’ve begun gravitating primarily toward trying to develop friendships and being around other men. My focus has been more on gaining their friendship than that of women.

The last few months, however, I have made a female friend whom I’ve felt closer to than any other woman in a long time. I know she is romantically interested in me, though I do not share this interest in her. I like her as a friend, but that is all. Earlier this week, we went to the movies together. I had a good time with her. But it was only a good time from a friend’s point of view. Had this outing become romantic in any sense of the word, I do not think I would have enjoyed being around her at all. I don’t want to lead her on, or make her think that I like her romantically, and I’ve tried my best not to, but I’m not sure how to break it to her that I don’t feel a return attraction for her without potentially ruining the friendship. Knowing that she feels this way about me just makes me want to run away from her altogether though. I find myself wanting nothing at all to do with her now.

I think of woman being a blessing to man. For me, I don’t think it is a blessing to have a woman to want to be with me. I never have thought of this as a blessing. And, when it happens, it makes me want to avoid women entirely. I don’t want a girlfriend, or a wife. In feeling this way, though, I can’t help but wonder if I’m rejecting something meant to be good—a gift or blessing from God.

Am I to always be alone? I have family. I have friends. Is that enough of a blessing in itself? I would like to think that it is. If it is, then how do I prevent myself from having such disdainful feelings toward women whom I feel are getting too close to me? How do I tell them that I only want friendship without potentially damaging that friendship? And herein lays another problem: should I tell them I’m gay? How should I handle this?

Right and Wrong

I don’t like being wrong. I don’t think this is due to pride, but simply out of a desire to believe and profess what is truth. The last few years I have been seeking out the truth. I like hearing other people’s point of view and opinions. I’ve often been a viewer of CNN, and many of my conservative friends wonder why I watch it instead of Fox News. I tell them that by watching CNN I get to understand why people on the other side think the way they do about things. Politically, I would say that I am more of a moderate than conservative or liberal, but when in doubt, I tend to lean more conservatively. But rather than close my mind and refuse to hear out the views of others, I choose to hear them out and see if either they’re right or I’m right by doing so.

Here’s an example of when I’ve done this. I used to be in support of the death penalty for people who had committed severe crimes. I was pretty adamant in this belief. But a friend of mine made me question this belief. We had always shared the belief that abortion was wrong. He wrote an article about that a year or two ago, describing his pro-life beliefs. Within that article, he explained that his pro-life position went beyond that of the preborn, explaining that life was precious regardless of the situation or circumstances surrounding that life. The more I thought about what he’d written, the more I was convinced he was right. I am now against the death penalty as adamantly as I used to be for it. I just don’t believe that anyone should ever take another life like that. No person should ever take another person’s life into their hands as such. And the fact that there have been so many wrongful convictions in the past is just another reason for me to believe this.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I think a policeman shooting a man getting ready to stab or shoot someone himself is doing a good and just thing to prevent that man from doing considerable harm to another. Protecting others or self in such a way is more than justifiable.

But the point is that listening to others can sometimes bring you to a better understanding of the world around you. You can see where either you have been potentially mistaken or correct about a certain thing. I’ve found that in many instances, I have been wrong about a great many things in my life. But in debating, discussing, or just simply listening to others, I have found myself also proven correct in my thinking.

The last couple of years, I have found myself doubting many of my beliefs. The reason for this, I think, is because of my openness to consider the viewpoints of others. I’ve listened to so many different viewpoints that somewhere along the way I’ve become confused and frustrated about what to believe. But on top of that, I know I have been dissuaded, disappointed, and turned off to many people in my life who had shared a lot of the same beliefs as me. It’s hard to believe in the same things as a preacher, fellow churchgoers, coworkers, parents, and others who have neglected, abused, or belittled you, or faltered somewhere along the way themselves. It’s hard to believe anything they say is true. And when you want to get away from them, you also want to get away and reject anything that reminds you of them.

As I said in my last post, I have increasingly felt a desire to distance myself from all things Christianity. I’ve been trying to figure out why the past few weeks, and why this has intensified dramatically since I’ve begun going to church again. I think this is the reason. Being in church I’m reminded of all the past hurts, I sit next to parents who have refused to help me or guide me in life, amongst other Christians who have never attempted to befriend me or get to know me, or who I’ve seen commits wrongs to others, and all of this combined has just made me want to reject the message they proclaim. I realized this on Sunday during the church service. I was angry at my parents for a few things and just wanted to get up and leave the church and never come back—to get away from them.

I think forgiving others is something much more difficult for me to do than I previously thought. I need to work on that. I think also, my faith, in a lot of ways, must have been strengthened in the past considerably more from others than I’d realized. And when those others let me down, my faith was weakened or brought down as well. God alone should be my strength and my main concern. That sounds good, and should probably be true. But all Christians are not in and of themselves. We all belong to a greater body. When that body is damaged, we are all affected. I need that strength that only the body can give me. I know, too, though, that I do need to rely more upon Christ than what I have been. And, sometimes, I think I need to listen a little less to others.