Friday, March 21, 2025

What does it mean? I ask myself a lot lately. Am I returning to feeling a lot of self-hating, internalized homophobia because of Trump and his ilk or is this how I always am, even when I do not know I am.

Two years ago and some change, I discovered I had the superpower to not get crushes on people anymore and I’ve been using that to push through all sorts of things. 

Of course it helped a lot that after years of pining (and inappropriately at that!) I learned that the person I secretly liked for years was the exact embodiment of everything I don't believe in.

Her anti-gayness didn't bother so much as her not owning it and blaming a decision she made on someone else, who is a big supporter of lqbtq+ rights. 

Anyway, at the risk of going into another full-blown, near nonsensical rant like I did earlier this week on here, I just want to quickly post about two things: an amazing book search app called Eurobuch and a book that is really helping me see how others see queer people: From Disgust to Humanity




More later if I can pin my thoughts down...

Monday, March 17, 2025

 

It was the not knowing that tore at Jean. Less the thought of what could have been, more wondering how Jo had fared in her new life. Jean would have given nearly anything to know for certain that she was all right.


Having recently finished the novel A Sweet Sting of Salt, I am still feeling it terribly. I appreciate it so much for its beautiful storytelling and achingly relatable characters and surprisingly happy ending, but I cringe at some of the memories it brings up in me with my personal life.

Like two of the characters in the earlier parts of the novel, a friend and I were torn apart after I came out to my parents in 1991. I told my parents about myself because I was in a bad way at the time and couldn't deal with it all by myself anymore. 

I knew better, knew that my parents (though nowhere near as far right as they are now) would not accept me and they didn't. Instead my father shut down even more than normal and my mom flew into a rage so intense it terrified me. They told me I had to leave or go to Christian "ex-gay therapy" (though it was called "homosexuals anonymous" at the time).

Telling them I would go (not knowing just yet how bad the 'therapy' would be) I went to my summer job the next day, upset but functioning. 

When I returned home the next day, my mom had gone through all my drawers and stuff in my room and found letters my friend and I had been exchanging all summer. She had them in her hand as she spoke on the phone to someone.

That someone was my friend's father and my mom was outing his daughter to him. I couldn't believe my ears, that she was doing that to someone she didn't know at all, possibly ruining a life in one nightmare moment of anger and self-righteousness.

Not that it would matter to my parents or anyone on their side, but the letters didn't have any kind of "hanky panky" in them or "devil's work" or whatever other words one might use. Instead, those letters served as support systems and bonding over all sorts of things, not just the isolation and sadness of living in a world that didn't accept people "that way."

To this day, I do not know whatever happened to my friend and my parents still do not accept me. I ended up going to "homosexuals anonymous," but it was so, so, so very bad I went home one day and told my parents I couldn't do it anymore. They gave me an ultimatum: go back or leave the house for good.

I couldn't go back but I also had nowhere to go so I told my parents I would change on my own, that I was "mistaken," "confused," and would join the local church youth group. The same church my mom had marched me into and demanded the pastor tell me I was going straight to Hell. (He told my mom he personally agreed with her that was where I would go, but that he didn't think that might be the best approach, a far kinder tone in his voice than either of the two leaders of the HA group had).

I started trying to date "normally" for the next five years after that, but I was still miserable and still having very dark thoughts of how nice non-existence sounded. I was fortunate that I made a nice friend through my feeble attempts at dating and he and I hung out together through a good part of the 90s.

Because I "changed my mind" in my parents' eyes and lived according to the way they wanted me to, I still had a place to live. In my late 20s I finally moved out and could breathe more freely, but I never forgot the horror and guilt of how I hadn't thrown the letters away and that my mom found them and called my friend's parents. I should have done better.

I've really, really digressed from the book I wanted to talk about, so I'll just say this before I leave for now. Whether it's the 1832 in the novel or the 1991 I tried to come out in or the 2025 that is the horror show that is now Trump...being gay and the struggles and sadness and isolation that come with are still all too real.

Some people still react poorly (or worse) and those they inflict damage on still suffer.

“Josephine Keddy?” Jean flinched. It wasn’t fair of her mentor to bring up Jo, and it wasn’t like that. Not at all, and it never could be. She and Jo had been the closest of friends, joined at the hip, telling each other all their secrets. Friends first, and then more than friends, right up until the awful Sunday at church when Jean found she couldn’t get close enough to exchange a single word with Jo anymore without some member of her family appearing to hurry her away, a solid living barrier sprung up between them. Mrs. Keddy had slandered nineteen-year-old Jean to anyone who’d listen, that she wasn’t to be trusted around their daughters, a filthy sinner and a bad influence…and in what seemed like no time at all, Jo had been married.


This probably sounds very disjointed and not readable, but I find that I get just as much flustered with my writing as I do with my verbal words when I am upset over something.

Wednesday, March 12, 2025


I saw some gaslighting and transphobia today that really bothered me so I asked AI what it thought of the true Christian attitude towards respecting people‘s pronouns and this is what came up:

(If even something as auto-generated and heartless as AI understands this why can’t human beings?)

Here's why respecting pronouns is seen as a Christian act:

  • Love and Compassion:
    Using someone's preferred pronouns is a simple yet powerful way to show respect and affirm their identity, which is a core Christian value of loving your neighbor. 
  • Empathy and Understanding:
    It demonstrates empathy and a willingness to understand and connect with others, even when they hold different views or identities. 
  • Avoiding Harm:
    Misgendering someone can be hurtful and damaging, and respecting pronouns helps create a safe and inclusive environment for everyone. 
  • Biblical Principles:
    Some Christians interpret biblical passages, such as 1 Corinthians 9:22 ("I have become all things to all people, so that by all possible means I might save some"), as encouraging Christians to be open and accommodating to others, even if they disagree with them. 
  • "Pronoun Hospitality":
    Some Christians, like Preston Sprinkle, advocate for "pronoun hospitality," suggesting that using someone's preferred pronouns is a way to show respect and keep the door open for relationship and spiritual conversation. 
  • Not a Compromise of Beliefs:
    Respecting pronouns does not necessarily mean agreeing with someone's identity or lifestyle, but rather acknowledging and honoring their self-expression. 
  • Creating a Welcoming Environment:
    By respecting pronouns, Christians can create a more welcoming and inclusive environment for people of all identities, which is in line with the Christian call to love and serve others. 








Tuesday, March 11, 2025

 


One of the very hardest things for me as an adult is making new friends. Though it's nowhere near as painful nor as difficult or challenging as when I was a child or teen, it's still something that leaves me uncertain and so extremely nervous I overcompensate by talking too much.

Years ago, when I would babysit for supplemental income in my early 40s, I took care of a little boy who would greet other children on the playground by yelling, "Hi, everybody! My name is John, wanna play with me?" It was endearing and adorable and the kids responded well.

But doing that as adult would go an entirely different, most likely not good, way.

Well, this morning I opened my email and I had the nicest message from someone I met through a work event last Thursday. She wrote how much she enjoyed our talking and how she thought my cat was cute and to please text her if I had any questions about our event or if I just wanted to chat about our pets.

I felt like I was back in school, only this time with more favorable results. For me, making friends at this age is both welcome and scary and I am so grateful that my trying harder to meet people didn't have someone running for the hills.




Wednesday, March 5, 2025

 

Caught by surprise hearing "Let Your Love Flow" earlier today, it was all I could do not to break down crying, both for personal reasons and because of how things feel in the world right now.

Released in 1976, "Let Your Flow" is one of at least half a dozen songs I first remember having an emotional impact on me as a six year old. And that year is probably the first year that I have any memories of from my childhood. I remember my family and I were traveling to Gatlinburg, Tennessee in the summertime and ever since then I always feel a strong connection to the single.

More generally, today it hit me hard because of the lyrics:

There's a reason for the sun-shining skyAnd there's a reason why I'm feeling so highMust be the seasonWhen that love light shines all around us
So let that feeling grab you deep insideAnd send you reeling where your love can't hideAnd then go stealingThrough the moonlit nights with your lover
Just let your love flow like a mountain streamAnd let your love grow with the smallest of dreamsAnd let your love show and you'll know what I meanIt's the seasonLet your love fly like a bird on a wingAnd let your love bind you to all living thingsAnd let your love shine and you'll know what I meanThat's the reason
There's a reason for the warm sweet nightsAnd there's a reason for the candlelightsMust be the seasonWhen those love rights shine all around us
So let that wonder take you into spaceAnd lay you under its loving embraceJust feel the thunderAs it warms your face, you can't hold back
Just let your love flow like a mountain streamAnd let your love grow with the smallest of dreamsAnd let your love show and you'll know what I meanIt's the seasonLet your love fly like a bird on a wingAnd let your love bind you to all living thingsAnd let your love shine and you'll know what I meanThat's the reason
Just let your love flow like a mountain streamAnd let your love grow with the smallest of dreamsAnd let your love show and you'll know what I meanIt's the seasonLet your love fly like a bird on a wingAnd let your love bind you to all living thingsAnd let your love shine and you'll know what I meanThat's the reason
Just let your love flow like a mountain streamAnd let your love grow with the smallest of dream