Other Worlds

I really don’t know how else to say these things, so I’ll apologize up front if any of this comes across rather shocking or blunt, or even a bit “adult” compared to what I normally write about.

Here goes…

Back in August, I came across another blog while looking up porn. It was a gay themed blog focused on the Daddy/boy, or Dominant/submissive, types of gay relationships. I like that sort of thing—being submissive to other men. And I loved this particular blog. It wasn’t just a collection of images, it was interactive and welcoming. I liked the owner and many of the others who commented on there. And they liked me, too. I loved writing things to them that was sexy or erotic, knowing I could turn them on, loving their responses back to me. I felt like I belonged. For the first time in several years, I felt like I belonged. I felt special and wanted, and that made this little online world I’d stumbled into so special to me. It was, if nothing else, a place for me to escape into. I was allowed to communicate with others who feel like me and with those who like guys like me. That’s not something I’ve been allowed much experience with before. But I loved it. I felt very much at home in that world.

A couple of weeks ago, that blog was unexpectedly ended by the owner. One day he’s posting, commenting, and others are commenting, and the next day, nothing, the blog is gone, no heads up or nothing. I found out he had wanted to end the blog and just didn’t want to have to say any goodbyes to anyone. I’ll be honest, I’ve bawled my eyes out over this. I can understand him wanting to end his blog, but I wish so much he had given me some time to get used to the idea. I wasn’t ready to give up this world. I wasn’t ready for it to come crashing down, to be ripped away from me forever. Even if it was sinful, I don’t care, because I loved it. I loved being a part of it. I loved the people and I loved how right it felt for me to be a part of it. I know I’ll miss it forever.

Something this experience did was help me to realize what I want in a relationship. I like men who are stronger and more dominant than me. I like being submissive and loving and affectionate. I like someone else taking the lead. I like other men wanting me.

I know I am completely unsuitable for being with a woman. Eve knew this. I think that’s why she really broke up with me; she knew I could never really last or be happy in that relationship. It wasn’t that I didn’t like her. It’s not that I didn’t love her even. Or that she didn’t love me. It’s that I couldn’t be what I needed to be for that sort of relationship to work. I wasn’t right for it at all.

I am right for being with another man though.

About a month and a half ago, I was contacted by a man through an online dating site I’d signed up on sometime back. I decided to respond back to him, and the night I did, we literally stayed up for hours talking to each other. It was on a Friday night, and I remember it was around five or six the next morning before we quit talking. To say we hit it off fast would be an understatement.

He’s two years younger than me, loves cars, playing video games, and watching movies. He has a little girl he takes care of all the time and absolutely adores. He is sweet beyond belief, calls me baby sometimes in such an affectionate way that just drives me crazy for him, and he is somewhat bashful at times, which I find incredibly cute. He’s a great guy, and I know I’m in love with him.

It’s been three weeks now since I was last able to talk with him though. There are reasons for this which I understand, but also some reasons which I don’t understand. I honestly don’t know if I still have a boyfriend or not. My hope is that we will eventually be able to be together again, but there are some nagging doubts that I have about this.

This relationship, too, has been something I wasn’t ready to give up. Unlike the blog, I don’t know where the relationship I was in stands though.

I feel so tired of caring. Every time I care about anyone or anything it just gets taken away from me. It seems to be a pattern I can’t escape. And I don’t know how to deal with such losses in very positive ways.

I’m so tired of being lured into a false sense of comfort, believing everything is great and grand, just for something, anything to always inevitably bring my world crashing down upon me.

I’ve felt really stressed the last few weeks. Not even the most recent holiday has helped.

This Thanksgiving didn’t… I don’t even know if I could say it was Thanksgiving. I had a meal with half of my family, but it seemed more like a reunion with distant relatives than anything else. And I didn’t even get to be around anyone from my mom’s side of the family.

When I was younger, it was, in all honesty, the time spent with those on my mom’s side that I enjoyed most about the holidays. With my grandma passing, and my aunt constantly sick these days, all that’s gone now. Mom doesn’t much want us doing anything for her side anyway (just her way of trying to avoid stress).

God, I miss my grandma so much I can’t stand it. Thursday night, my brother and I went and got pizza for us and my nephews. We didn’t have leftovers, we didn’t have games and fun with family… it didn’t even feel like a Thanksgiving. It just felt like some weird, awkward day that didn’t make sense to me at all.

I feel like I always lose everything. If it’s good, it never sticks. I feel so frustrated right now. I know what I’d like my life to be like, but I can’t have it. I’m so tired of feeling bad all the time. I’ll feel good and things will be going right and then, WHAM, I’m knocked right on my ass. I just wish for some period of time I could actually just be happy.

In another world, I was a confident, happy, sexual being who was well-liked and wanted by others. In another world, I was loved and wanted by someone who I loved and wanted. In another world, I was happy with family and innocence. In another world, I felt like I belonged and was wanted in church. In another world, my dreams are still alive. In another world, I still have all the things I’ve lost. In another world, I wouldn’t feel bad about being me. In another world, I wouldn’t have to feel as though I was living a lie with every breath of the day.

I don’t know how you all will look at me now for admitting these things. Am I lost? Am I sinful? Do I even still care? I honestly wonder about that at times. But then I doubt I’d feel so bad if I didn’t care...

I feel like nothing makes sense anymore. I’m tired, scared, in poor health. Nothing seems right anymore. And anytime I think things are improving or starting to look up, I just get my legs kicked out from under me and the wind sucker punched right out of me.

I feel like there’s no way for me to be who I want to be. And even if I got that, I don’t know if it’d be right.

A Good Life

Do I have a good life?

Let me think on that for a moment…

I have a roof over my head.  I have more clothes than I really need.  I daily have something to eat and drink.  I have friends and family who love and care about me.  I get to work with children who each day do something joyful and uplifting.  I have two nephews that I absolutely love spending time with.  I usually can find some time during the day for my talents and interests.  I’ve been able to travel many different places.  I have good memories that often flood my mind.

Overall, yes, I would say that I have a good life.

So why have I felt down so much of the time lately?

To begin with, I get tired of being patient.  I have dreams and goals that I am constantly working on and, after awhile, I can get tired of what seems to be a lack of progress toward achieving those things.  Especially on those which have taken years at this point.  For instance, four years ago I decided to go back to school to become a teacher.  I only needed two and half years to graduate, so the last year and a half I’ve been looking for someplace to hire me.  It is a wait that was far from expected when I went back to school.  In the meantime, I have been substitute teaching, worrying that every little move I make will be looked at badly somehow by the very people who could potentially hire me.  Little to say, this has been stressful.

I have also been coping with the loss of my grandma.  Everything in the last few months has been a first without her—the first Christmas, New Years, falling snow, Easter, spring, summer.  It is hard experiencing so many things without her when she was such a huge part of those things before.  She lived right across the road from us, and so every time I look out front of the house it has been difficult.  We’ve been to her house many times as well to take out her belongings.  I keep expecting her to show up any minute to look out the door and wave hello or goodbye to us.  I keep expecting to see her go to the mailbox, or walk her dog in the yard, or come across the road to do a little gardening.  When we’re in her house, I keep expecting to see her come around each corner or to say something from the next room.  And I’m reminded of all those many times I saw and heard her do those things.  I miss my grandma terribly.  And I keep wondering if she knew what was happening at the end.  How much pain was she in?  Did she know it was going to be the end of her life?  Did she have hope?  What was going through her mind?  Was there anything she still needed or wanted to tell us before she went?  Is she in Heaven?  What if Heaven really doesn’t exist and everything she was is now gone forever?

I’d give everything and then some to have her back.

And then I’ve struggled with some of my religious beliefs lately.  I really don’t think I believe it’s wrong for people to be in homosexual relationships anymore.  My mind isn’t completely made up on the matter, but the more I look at it, the more I’m convinced that the arguments against homosexuality are severely loosely based.  When you put everything together, it all just comes across so much more like a series of misunderstandings and prejudice than anything else.  Why would God mind if I fell in love with another man, chose to live with him the rest of my life, to share everything of my life with him, including my sexuality?  What is so wrong with that?

You know, I hear people so much of the time try to devalue homosexual relationships.  I think that’s wrong.  If they’re sinful, then they’re sinful.  That’s all, and that’s all that should be said if that’s true.  But to say that no two men can love each other like that, that no two men could have a healthy life together, that no two men could actually produce something together through sexual means (to achieve a stronger bond, level of affection, love, and commitment for each other), I think it’s all just shameful.  Do we say that all heterosexual relationships are wrong because of prostitution, drug use, open marriages, premarital sex, or divorce?  No.  We say that each of those things individually is bad, but we never use those things as reasons to devalue and demoralize all of a particular type of relationship.  So, why do so many do that when it concerns homosexual relationships?  Not all homosexuals are just out for sex alone.  Believe it or not, some of us actually do want A RELATIONSHIP.  Sex would only be a part of such a thing, but not the entirety of it.

I’m just tired of feeling different all the time.  I want to be able to do what everyone else does.  I don’t want to hide who I am, or be afraid of people knowing me.  I want to go on dates and be romantic every once in a while.  It’d be nice to have a steady boyfriend even.  I’m just so sick of the course I’ve been on.  I don’t want to do it anymore.  I’m so physically, emotionally, and even spiritually exhausted from it.

I’m gay.  I didn’t ask to be, I’ve never wanted to be, but I just am.  It is something that encompasses a large part of my personality and how I interpret and view the world.  It’s not something I can just turn off, like the flick of a switch, or hide, as if I’m some sort of freak.  I’ve tried doing that and it just doesn’t work.  I can’t make it work.  And, frankly, I don’t want it to work because if it did I’d no longer be me.

Isn’t this what Jesus’ mission was all about though?  We can try and try and try, and fail and fail and fail on our own, and never make things right.  But with Jesus, He makes it right even when we can’t.  We’re not given an open license to sin, but when we just can’t make a go of it on our own, God understands.  That’s the whole reason Jesus’ death was so important, so that we could be offered a means of forgiveness that isn’t dependent upon ourselves, or what actions we’re able to do, but dependent upon God and what He is able and willing to do for us.  God knew we just couldn’t do it on our own.  Right now, I don’t think I can do what I’ve been doing anymore.  I can’t keep hiding who I am, pretending I don’t like what I like, and killing myself little by little in the process.  If God’s going to accept me, He’s just going to have to accept also that I’m gay.  If He wants me to be something different then He’s going to have to send down some sort of lightning bolt or something, because nothing I’ve done has worked.

I’m so angry all the time.  Really, if I had to describe how I’ve felt lately, these are the words I’d use: angry, lonely, worried, sad, afraid, bitter, confused.  To be honest, this is one of the worst bouts of depression I’ve ever felt, and it’s lasted about the longest.  I feel very confused.  I’m angry and frustrated that certain things are the way they are.  I’m sad at the loss of certain things.  I’m worried, scared, and hopeless seeing what options seem to be presented for my future.  And I’m just so tired.

A few days ago I asked a friend if he’d want to be my boyfriend.  It was the first time in my life I ever asked someone out like that.  Anytime I was ever with anyone before, it either just happened or they asked me first.  This time I did the asking.  I wasn’t surprised when he turned me down.  Nor was I surprised by how gentle and nice he was in doing so.  But I was and am a little disheartened by the rejection.  I’m okay though because I know we’ll still be good friends, and I value our friendship too much to let something like this ruin it.  The possibility of us being together, and the drive to want to love him in such a way, though, just consumed me to the point that I had to ask him.  I was drawn to him because of how great his friendship has been to me.  I think he is such a great person in my life, and I honestly can’t think of anyone better to be with.  If I were to ever be in a relationship, I would hope it would be with someone like him, built on such a great level of friendship, love, and common interests.

And in all of this and more I’ve just felt so withdrawn from everyone.  Some of this has been unwanted, but some of it, too, has been forced.  I just haven’t felt the strength to be around anyone much. 

A friend wrote to me on my facebook page a few days ago that it really was time for me to update it.  I took his advice and decided to do so.  This began a conversation between the two of us, and also began two other conversations with friends I hadn’t talked to for awhile now.  The new status also got a few likes.  What my friend did was humble me out of a state of isolationism, which I’ll thank him for.  It was a blessing.

I’ve been told by people before that I need to break out of my shell more.  I know I guard my privacy more than I should.  And when I’m feeling down I tend to converge within myself and just totally keep myself in a state of seclusion.  Then I whine around thinking I don’t have friends or people who want to be around me, when in reality I do.

I know, overall, I do have a good life.  A lot of things are really good.  And I do have a lot of things to look forward to.  But I know I just really want and need for certain things to be different.  I want to work to make things different.  And when it comes to relationships, I really don’t want to care anymore if it happens to be with another man.  In all the vastness of everything, I really just don’t think that it matters.  If it does, then I trust God will lead me to a better understanding of it all.  And in whatever I do, I will continue to seek out His wisdom and guidance.

Of Self, Sex, Love, and Relationships

I ask the question, “Why?” I keep thinking about why I would be attracted to other men, why I would always have had this inner wish when I was little to have been born a girl, why I would have so much difficulty throughout all of life relating to other men, why God would so strongly disapprove of me being in a romantic relationship, and I can’t help but wonder for what purpose it is all for. Why, of all things to struggle with in life, do I have to struggle with gender identity/sexual orientation issues? Why not something a little more common that doesn’t influence the very nature of my being? Why not just pornography, masturbation, greed, gluttony, anger, alcoholism, lust, jealousy, etc.? Not that any of these things are any less difficult to fight or deal with, but none of them bring into question the physical aspect of who you are. No, I have to struggle with the very nature of my identity as a human being. I don’t feel nor think of myself in very masculine terms most of the time, even though I do recognize many of the masculine traits I do have. A lot of the time, I don’t relate fully to being male or female, but something in between. And that in between reality pulls me in both directions so much of the time. I know I am male, and I like that I’m male, but my mind and perception of self is so female it isn’t even funny. This impacts the way I relate to others in virtually every possible manner, including sexuality.

When I think of sex, it is not at all from the typical heterosexual male’s point of view. On the contrary, my first instincts are very much alike to the typical heterosexual female’s point of view (me being in one of maybe three sexual positions with a man on top of me). And, also, like the typical heterosexual woman, even though there is certainly physical pleasure to be enjoyed during sex, it is the closeness to the person making love to me that I desire the most (this isn’t to suggest that no straight men feel the same in this regard—remember I’m talking about instincts and I’m basing this off of past conversations with straight men and women). That’s what I think of whenever sex comes to mind. Those are my first instincts, and that’s pretty much always been the case (spare for a select few occasions).

I’ve had sex with three different people in my life. I know that may come as a shock to some of you, but it is the truth I have to live with, and I do feel regret for. When I was twelve years old, I became sexually active with a boy that was a couple of years younger than me. For the most part, we were only experimenting with each other. We were learning about sex together. I know this had little to do with attraction, but I was still drawn to do those things with him. It just seemed natural to want to, and he was willing.

Sometime during this two year course, I also had sex with a girl. That was a onetime event, which I have no illusions about—I wanted to prove to myself I could be with a girl.

Neither of these people do I wish I’d have had sex with, and I know they feel the same. I wasn’t in love with either of them, nor did either of them love me. But I look back at that time in my life and see how incredibly stupid I was (and how stupid they were too). The things I did during those two years filled me full of regret, sorrow, and self-hate. I layered those feelings on top of me for years. I knew it was just about sex, wanting that physical pleasure.

I allowed those feelings to pretty much diminish any thought of ever actually being with anyone in any sort of relationship. I just thought there wasn’t much real possibility of that happening. But, in spring of 2010, I began (reluctantly) dating a woman that I went to school with. I wrote about that relationship many posts back, calling her Eve.

I loved Eve. There was a lot about her to love. But that relationship fell apart. This happened for many reasons. The biggest reason was just that we didn’t have any of the same long term goals for our lives. Even though we knew this, we still wanted desperately to be together in the short term.

Eve was the third person I became sexually active with. I could give a lot of excuses for why this came about, but I won’t. This was just another reason our relationship fell apart though. After awhile she thought she’d become pregnant. Like most people hearing this sort of news, we wizened up more than a lot. I know both of us really looked much more seriously at the relationship we had. It turned out that she wasn’t pregnant, but we both realized we’d made some very wrong decisions. We both knew that neither of us was willing to give up some of the dreams we’d carried for ourselves for so long. And if that was true, then we never should have allowed ourselves to go so far with each other. She accepted, before I did, that if we weren’t going to be with each other in the future, then we shouldn’t continue being with each other at all. And that’s why she broke up with me.

I was devastated when that relationship ended. I know I really did love Eve. And I know she really did love me, too. We’re still on good terms with each other. But in hindsight, I know the love we had was, at least in part, conditional. I also know there were problems with our relationship extending beyond those I’ve already mentioned. I was never really able to feel comfortable being physically intimate with her, in any regard, or to ever lead in that relationship, even when she wanted me to. I couldn’t be what is required for that sort of relationship—physically or relationally. I felt so awkward so much of the time, as though I was a straight woman trying to be with another woman. It just seemed to completely unnatural for me to be with her. This inner sense kept coming up while we were together. I often think Eve recognized this, too, though she never said anything. She did know I was attracted to other men, and was always very understanding about that. But I do think it impacted our relationship. And I never thought it was very fair to her.

I learned several things from that relationship though. One was that sex can ruin something beautiful. Another is that just because you’re in love doesn’t mean you have to have sex. And a third is that I will never again have sex with anyone unless it’s the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with—and I’ll give that more than a few months to figure out—because the pain of doing otherwise is just too great.

I also learned a great deal about myself though. I was able to see how a relationship with a woman could be possible. It could work, and I won’t rule out the possibility of that ever happening again. But I do see how unfit and unmatched I was for that sort of relationship. I know I was always on the wrong end of it. My best match is to be with another man, romantically and relationally speaking—that’s what works. Being with Eve, I saw that more clearly. I also saw who I really want to be with.

I’ve suppressed my love for a male friend for a very long time now. I loved him even while I was with Eve. And, unlike with Eve, I know the love I have for him is unconditional. We’ve had many ups and downs, but our friendship has survived (longer than any other I could mention). I think he is handsome, though I doubt few others would think of him beyond average. He is smart and witty. He loves to write and talk about religion and politics. I love that he challenges me in my thinking, that he is always patient with me, always willing to listen, always willing to be there for me. And I love his faith in God. We have so many things we share in common. And I know if I could choose one person to spend the rest of my life with, he would be my pick. I would choose to give everything of myself to him, without regret, and I don’t doubt that for even a second.

It hurts knowing how much I love him, knowing I’ve found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, knowing that he could share those same feelings with me, but knowing that that can never happen. I’ve struggled so much trying to figure out how to respond to this love. It is not just the love for a friend. It is beyond any measure a romantic love as well. It’s both, really. I want to be able to look him in the eyes and tell him I love him, and for him to know that beyond God, that holds most for him. I want to be able to come home to him every day. I want to embrace him. I want to hold hands with him. I want to hear his voice and feel his presence every day. I want to take care of him when he’s sick. I want to grow old with him. I want to feel my soul connected with his. I want to do all those things a married couple can do together. And, yes, to even make love with him. And yet, I resist.

And I ask, “Why?” Why do I struggle with this thing? Why is it that I’ve come so far to learn so much what true love is all about, and to truly love someone in this manner, just to be told that it’s an unholy love that God would never approve of? Why is it so wrong for me to want to share myself with someone that I love so much? Why and for what purpose would God ever allow me to go through such a thing? Love is one of the greatest things in this world, something that Christ himself advocated more than anything else, and yet I’m denied the love of another?

I know I can be loved, but there are different kinds of love. I want to be able to love someone where I can give everything of myself—my body, my mind, my soul, my time, everything, and to know that it is all out of love. You can’t really love a friend like that. And there’s the difference. My struggle isn’t one of wanting sex. It is one of wanting to experience that sort of love and being told no, and that answer making no sense at all anymore.

I want to do what’s right, but I know I want to do it because it makes sense. Not just because it’s what I’ve always been told, which is based so much on what others have always thought, who had no real idea what sort of thing they were talking about. I don’t want to accept a teaching that I honestly do think may have come about only out of prejudice and misunderstanding.

I look at the story of Adam. God saw it wasn’t good for man to be alone, and yet He’s asking me to be alone? I look at Jesus’ commandment to love, and yet I’m told the greatest of loves isn’t okay for me? It just doesn’t make sense.

And so I struggle on trying to make sense out of it all.

It's Not Just About Sex

Lately, I’ve been talking about some very strong struggles going on within me. I know I’ve made myself addicted to pornography and masturbation, and that I’ve used those two things to try to ease some of the stress, loneliness, and outright depression that I’ve felt. And, to an extent, I know that I’ve felt somewhat more normal or allowed to just be myself through seeing pornography. I see other men doing things that to me just seem to be a normal thing to want. I see them and I feel less different, I guess. But I know these are two things that I want to fight, and I’ve been trying really hard to stop engaging in both over the course of the last few weeks. I’ve admittedly had some falls along the way, but I’ve also found that the longer I’ve tried, the less the desires have been to give into them.

At the same time, however, I have been taking a second look at my decision to remain celibate. This has been brought on by certain lingering doubts that have developed over the course of this last year. I’ve thought about certain various aspects of the Christian faith and wondered seriously if Christians throughout time haven’t managed to get a few things wrong now and then. I see some things that are contradictory or that just don’t make sense at all really. And so I wonder if I’ve honestly made the right decision.

I believe God loves me and will always love me no matter what I do. I believe I am saved through Christ, and that I am offered forgiveness through that faith. I know that forgiveness doesn’t mean I am free to sin without care. I do care. But I know that no matter how hard I’ve ever tried, I always manage to sin one way or another eventually. I know my only hope is through Christ. And I know in my heart He will forgive me if I get a few things wrong.

I have also disclosed the fact that I am in love with someone. I’ve loved him for going on four years now. I wish so much I could be with him. And this is not just about sex, or lust, or anything like that. I know I love him because of who he is, how much we have in common, how much I enjoy his company, how much it warms my soul just the thought of him.

A newfound friend wrote to me the other day, including an excerpt from a story by Corrie Ten Boom. In the story, Corrie was in love with a man who ended up marrying someone else, and her father gave her the advice to pray to love this man in a different way.

I’ve tried to do this myself. Sometimes it helps, but more often than not, it just makes me feel as though I’m throwing away the best thing that could ever happen to me. But I go on trying to let God lead me wherever and to whomever he sees fit.

I’m trying. That’s all I can really say right now.

In all of this, I have actually been in better spirits the last few days. For anyone who has been praying for me, I want to thank you, because I’m sure it’s helped. How much better would life be if we would all pray so much more for each other? I think it’d surprise us a lot.

What It Means

What does it mean to be gay and Christian? Do you adhere to traditional teachings about homosexuality, and refrain from acting on your desires? Do you accept a more modern interpretation of scripture, and find some grounds for which being with someone of the same sex is okay? Do you leave your faith? Do you sin in light of your beliefs? What decision will you make? And what will life be like for you after you’ve made your decision?

The last few months, I’ve been considering so many different beliefs and aspects of my life. I know this has mostly been brought on by the passing of my grandma. I’ve missed her so much that it’s been killing me inside. I wish so much she was still here. But in her passing, I keep thinking about my own life. How much longer do I have left? What sort of life do I really want to have? When (or if) I’m an old man, nearing my own death, what sort of life do I want to be able to look back on? What will I regret? What will I have wished I’d done differently? All these things have been on my mind, and it’s caused me to reexamine so many different things.

One thing on my mind lately is do I really want to look back on my life wishing I’d chosen to be with (or at least have tried to be with) someone. There is someone, a close friend, who I actually have been in love with for a few years now. It’s been so incredibly hard not acting on that love. I don’t know if he’d ever reciprocate (it is possible), but just the thought of regret, on my part, later in life seems to loom heavily on my mind right now. I don’t want to go through life living alone, never being able to share my life intimately with anyone else, and regretting that decision later on when it’s too late to do anything about it. And with this in mind, I’ve thought again about what I really believe in my faith. In that course, I’ve found a few things to doubt and a few questions that haven’t been answered. As I said a few posts back, I’m still not sure what to think.

I do know this, though: I’m not happy with my life right now. I don’t like a lot of my circumstances, nor do I like some of the decisions I’ve made. I know I’ve allowed fear, pride, shame, and even laziness hold me back on certain things. I know I’ve also let others hold me back some. I just feel like I’m in a rut. I see what I’d like my life to be like, knowing it could be that way, but it not being that way because of certain obstacles being in my path. Some of those obstacles may be a good thing though, and that’s what I’m unsure about.

But what will it mean if I keep on the path I’ve been on? What will it mean for me if I never seek out or have a relationship with another man? It could honestly mean a lot of things. It could mean that I’ll never wake up in the arms of another man; that I’ll never have someone to share my most intimate thoughts with; that I’ll never have a family of my own; that I’ll never have sex; that I’ll never have someone who’ll take care of me and who I can take care of; that I’ll never have someone to come home to; that I’ll never know what it’s like to be a half of someone else. It could also mean none of those things. Some of those things could happen in other ways. Above all, though, it could mean that I’ve either done the right thing, or an unnecessary thing. It could mean that I’ve lived my life honoring God’s teachings and wants for my life, or that I’ve lived my life worrying about something God understands and was okay with. It could mean any of those things.

In the end, I just want to be able to look back on my life, whether at the end of my life or in the hereafter, and say that it was a life worth having lived, that I was happy, and that I did what was right.

On that last point, I can’t help but think about our commandment to love, as well as it being a sin not to do the good that we could have done. I don’t want to get to the end of my life, and then have to face God in the next and Him ask me why I never accepted the love of another person, why I never shared my love with the person I love, why I never accepted a soul mate He sent me. I can’t help but believe at this moment, that I would be nothing less than ashamed of the answer I’d give Him: “Everyone told me it was wrong.” And what would He tell me? “Why didn’t you follow your heart? Why didn’t you notice the signs I sent you?”

You see, it’s things like that I keep wrestling with. What’s right and what’s wrong? Not knowing, I’ll not yet change course. I’ll continue being celibate for the time being, until some answer crashes down on me. But I know I doubt that decision so much right now, and it’s absolutely driving me crazy.

In the Image of God

I have heard people say that the way we view God is often in relation to how we view our fathers. If we view our fathers positively, we will likely view God positively. If we view our fathers negatively, we will likely view God negatively. I believe this is true because it seems to mirror how I have felt about God before. There have been times in my life when I felt a lot of anger, disappointment, sadness, or frustration with my dad, and, looking back, I can see how during those times, some of those same feelings were projected onto God as well. Then, there have also been times when I got along really well with my dad, felt very close to him, and likewise felt that way toward God. Knowing that God is the ultimate father, it is simply hard not to compare our earthly fathers to him. However, I would say that our view of God may be influenced by more than just our fathers.

From biblical teaching, we know that God is always referred to in the male form, but that he created both male and female in his own image. So, mightn’t our view of God also be in light of how we view our mothers? I think it is certainly possible. Our mothers, above all, can show us the gentleness of God, the patience of God, and the unconditional love of God, perhaps better than our fathers ever could. I say this because these are characteristics more commonly expressed by females than males, but not to mean that all women are like this or that no man can be; either could be true. With this in mind, if the relationship with our mothers becomes strained, might we not also experience a strain in our relationship with God?

There is another area of influence which goes beyond gender itself, and one which I believe more commonly influences our relationship with God than anything else does, and that is in our relationships with those of authority. Our fathers and mothers are certainly authority figures, but so are church elders and deacons, preachers, grandparents (or older relatives), teachers, politicians, and employers. These are people we can look up to or look down upon, have good relationships with or poor relationships with. If we feel unloved, uncared for, and unwanted by one or both of our parents, by a teacher, an elder or deacon in church, a preacher, or our boss, might we not also feel that their treatment of us in this regard is an extension of how God feels about us? If we constantly disapprove of and mistrust our political leaders, might we not also grow to feel the same about God? All of this is possible, because of the correlation we may see consciously or unconsciously between those having great authority over our lives, and God, who we are told has the greatest authority, not only over our lives but over everything.

Two other areas of influence may be in our relationships with peers and how we view ourselves. If our peers reject us, then might we not also feel rejected by God? When one is friendless, it is easy to become isolated, lonely, bitter, resentful, and just in general to become an outcast, if not in reality then at least in mind where the thought that nobody, including God, must want anything to do with you. And if you begin to think little of yourself, for whatever reason, it can certainly become difficult imagining anyone else feeling any better about you. If our peers flock to us thinking we are really something special, though, then might we not also feel that God wants to be with us and thinks we are special? If we feel good about ourselves, or like whom we are, then might we not also be more likely to think God will like us too? I think it is possible.

Looking at all of this, it is very likely, at least to my mind, that our view of God can be greatly viewed as an extension of how we view others in our lives who hold similar traits to God. Here’s an example just to illustrate this theory. If a man’s father wants nothing to do with him, his mother isn’t gentle, caring or considerate in her approach to him, his preacher, teacher, or other authority figures are not patient with him or have broken his trust somehow, and his peers reject him, then might that same man not also come to believe that, in general, he isn’t wanted, loved, respected or cared about by anyone, including God? After all, if everyone else treats him a certain way, why would God be any different? Mustn’t there be something about him that makes him unworthy of God? It is easy to see the mindset that can form against God when looking at how people treat each other. Maybe that is why Jesus commanded us to do to others the way we would want done unto us. Our influence over each other is so profound and lasting that it can reach all aspects of our lives, including influencing our relationship with God.

The good news, however, is that God is not everybody else. He is flawless, perfect, and pure in everything he does. Humans are not this way. We are fallen, imperfect, and certainly far from pure in most cases. Just because someone fails you, that doesn’t mean God will do the same. Just because someone hates you, doesn’t mean God hates you. Just because someone rejects you, doesn’t mean God will reject you. What we have to keep in mind is that we are in God’s image, and not the other way around. God is not an expression of us, we are an expression of him, one that has been weakened and flawed because of our sin. So when we view God through the lens of how we view others, we are wrong to do so. We can certainly see God at times through other people, but that doesn’t mean that we can see God in everything somebody else does. Only Jesus holds that distinction. The rest of us, too much of the time, fall short.

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.