letmebecandid

[letmebecandid]

Letting go of shame

“You don’t have to apologize for who you are, Shane. You don’t have to make any validations or explain anything. God made you who you are, strengths and weaknesses, and gave you your wife and those beautiful children because he trusts you with them—isn’t that beautiful? Not everyone is going to understand that, but they don’t have to. This is your journey.” 

And goddammit if she wasn’t right. Her name was Sara, and I met her Wednesday night at a bible study. It was an LGBT study and a friend, Amy, invited me. I decided to go because I have so far been in circles where people know and accept my identity, or people who know and accept my faith. I can’t recall having both equally accepted in one place. 

I was fighting back tears as she talked because I didn’t want to let it in. The truth of her words almost made me angry, though I don’t know why. Maybe I’m angry because for years and years and years I have felt like I’m supposed to feel bad for where I’m at. Something went wrong, right? I’m a Christ follower, I’m same-sex attracted and no longer believe that’s something that will change *gasp*. Or that is even supposed to change. I mean, is it okay to say that? I guess I’m still struggling with the weight of accepting such a massive notion—that God loves me exactly as I am today. That I don’t have to change a thing about who I am in order for him to love me. My history with the church tells me otherwise.

Maybe that’s where the anger comes from. That I feel robbed of the years of freedom I could have experienced if I had accepted that God loved me just as I was. That I didn’t have to—that I don’t have to—do anything different for God to love me any more than he does right now. Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me??? 

[please, dear God, tell me you remember this scene? I’m also hoping the occasional gif will lighten the weight of such a heavy post]

Even as I’m writing these words, I'm honestly having such a hard time taking that in. I want to weep or punch a hole in the wall. For years, I have squirmed around under the weight of shame that I should feel bad for just existing. If I was a better Christian, I wouldn’t be this way. Right? If I was closer to God, I would have turned out... straight? Or, given that I now have a wife, if I loved her enough, then my attraction would only be devoted to her and the gay feelings would just disappear. Isn’t that what some of us in the church grew up to believe as true? 

I have had many gay friends imply (or outright tell me), that I was just gay and that they believed my marriage to Helen was a cover that I needed to feel good about having a family and being Christian. When I got married almost 9 years, a long-time gay friend of mine, Clarence, sent me an email explaining how I was making a grave mistake. That I was in denial and doing what I thought the church and society expected of me. I guess, from his perspective, he could never understand why I wanted (and so thankful I now have) a wife and kids being that he was 100% gay. Well, maybe 110%. 

Ironically, when I decided to get married, I had a good friend turn his back on me because he didn’t agree with my life choice. Hashtag fucking ironic. Honestly though, I can’t blame him. He was trying to do his best to speak from his heart and share what he believed to be true and helpful from his worldview. I think he (and maybe others) assumed I conjured up some extrinsic attraction to Helen or made a convenient or contrived decision instead of one based on mutual love and attraction, which was actually the case. From my experience, a lot of gay guys are cool with bisexuality unless it swings in a woman’s direction.

Helen has a few guys she works with that are gay and one time when we were all together for a Friendsgiving dinner, she told me that she felt like one of them was looking at her like does this bitch know her husband is gay? We had a good laugh about it when she told me the next day. She said she wanted to just say yeah dude, I know. Simmer. 

Sometimes when I’m out with my family, I’ll see a guy look at me and in an instant I can tell they’re making assumptions about my situation. Wife. Kids. Clearly Not Straight. It used to bother me and I wanted to blurt out I’m not living a lie! Jesus, stop with the judgment already. Which would undoubtedly be awkward. Maybe they were judging my situation, or maybe I had a two-foot patch of toilet paper coming out the back of my shorts. It’s hard to say. But not only did it bother me, it made me feel like I wasn’t accepted. Like these people—gay friends and strangers— were telling me that I made the wrong choice for the wrong reason and I didn’t belong.  

On the flip side, when I’ve spent any length of time around straight dudes, there is misunderstanding and lack of acceptance in a different direction. If I don’t talk about sexuality with them or if they don’t know this part of my life, there’s still this kind of vibe that I don’t quite fit in. I may be able to connect with and talk about shared interests like CrossFit, cars, or a mutual hatred for the president. But it starts to unravel if I mention that I’ve never watched a full sports game start to finish, or if I can’t participate in discussions about how hot some particular girl is. 

Or—God forbid—I openly talk about sexual identity and that I’m on a spectrum. I used to want so badly to be accepted by straight guy groups (men’s small groups, CrossFit buds, coworkers, etc.) but I’ve learned that you can’t force acceptance. You can only receive relationship on the terms the other person is willing to offer them. Anything beyond that turns you batshit crazy. 

Here’s the thing, when people don’t know you, they don’t understand the complexity of your situation. They don’t know the depth of your thought or the reasons you made the choices you did in life. And unless they get to know you, they never will. 

Most people don’t know that, a week before I met my wife in Kenya, I prayed and told God that I wanted a wife. I had increasing attraction to women into my 20s and wondered if I could find a woman who wasn’t concerned with how I identify. They don’t know that the day we met we talked about me dating men and women and she said well, one day maybe you’ll meet someone who doesn’t care who you’re attracted to, but only that you care for and are committed to them. These are things that only close friends know, if at all. And—well—now you. You’re welcome.

I guess what I’m trying to say is your journey is your journey. If people don’t know you and don’t care to get to know you, there’s no reason why their arbitrary opinion about your life or circumstances should mean anything to you. The people who love you with fierceness, intention, and grace—those are the people you should let it and listen to. Most likely they are the ones who understand the complexity of your life and who will be with you till the sun turns black.

[letmebecandid]

Let’s call him “Thor”

If you are reading this, you are either 1.) average looking 2.) good looking or 3.) very good looking. And you probably know what category you fall into, right? I hope you accept your place in this spectrum with humility and thankfulness. My sister, Kylee, used to say that she and I were lucky because we were born average looking. I used to quietly disagree, but her argument was pretty legit. If we were born very good looking, then we’d question people’s motives for wanting to be close with us. When was the last time you were ‘just drawn’ to someone who also happened to be smoking hot? Be honest. It happens. I do it too, but I try to course correct before I actually extend kindness.

I think Kylee was getting at the fact that, when you are average looking, people want to be around you if they like you. Your friends are your true friends. Conversely, if you are good-looking or smoking hot, people want to be around you maybe because you are a good person, or maybe they want to watch your mouth move while you read entries from the dictionary. At a certain point, it doesn’t matter what someone says if they look like a super model. 

Side Note: this is why I believe that some very attractive people are dumb as rocks. It’s not that they’re genetically less intelligent than the rest of us, it’s just that we as a society require less from them than we do other people. We’d rather look at them than require that they contribute to society. That’s why, on one end, we have Sarah Plain and Tall writing exquisite poetry and, on the other, The Kardashians. I think all kinds of people are capable of contributing to society, but by and large we’re surprised when a hot person is also substantive and deep. 

Recently I went into a small clothier here in Atlanta just to look around. I’d been there a few times before—but at the time they didn’t sell my size. I went in last week and the owner said “You’ve been here before, yes?” and I said yes. Then, a minute later, he said “You look different, have you lost weight or something?” “Yeah” I replied. “About 70 pounds”. “Holy shit” he said and then we started talking about health and weight loss. He mentioned that one of his previous employees never worked out and was so attractive that he made people feel uncomfortable. He even showed me his picture to prove it (which he had quick on the draw, as a side. In his photos app, but that’s none of my business). And the guy was ridiculous. What’s interesting, though, is that he said his friend had to go out of his way to make people feel comfortable around him because he knew what he looked like and how it made people feel. Poor baby I thought when he told me this story. He has it so tough. I rolled my eyes so hard my optic nerve is still sore.

I think that’s what my sister was touching on, though, when she said we should be thankful that we’re average-looking folks. Nobody sees me and wants to be friends with me because of what I look like. If I’m honest, I kind of wish I was that guy because I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to be, as Derek Zoolander puts it, really really ridiculously good looking [flashes blue steel]. But if I was, I probably wouldn't know how to wield it and I’d be more self-centered than I already am. 

I have always been resentful-slash-jealous-slash-rude-to people who are very good looking because I feel like they get easier breaks, more attention, less rejection and an all-around easier life. I know it’s not mature to admit it, but I felt like if I was friends with them or even nice to them, then my kindness was one more drop in the bucket of stroking their ego or approving of the Aesthetic Is King mentality that makes their lives disproportionately easier than everyone else's.

I used to work with a guy that was pretty good looking. He even had a super hero nick name, but to keep with anonymity let’s call him Thor. He was tall, slender, worked out three or four times a year, had nice hair, was handsome, and totally emotionally unavailable. Oh, and he was a nice dresser. Well, nice ish—he only had one pair of jeans (that were like Arizona or something), but nobody seemed to mind because—again—he was wearing them. He knew and we knew and he knew that we knew that he was good looking. It was often a point of discussion. He wasn’t conceited, per se. He was just aware. And so was everyone else. One time, one of the upper level employees said something like “Thor, I’ve got a wife and kids, but you look hot today”. Everyone laughed but me. I hated him. I still do. 

I enjoyed poking fun at him though. When everyone else said he looked nice that day, I told him he looked like shit or that his breath smelled. He didn’t look like shit though and his breath smelled like an Alpine dream, but he didn’t need to know that. All he needed to know was that I required more of him—that if he was going to get my approval, he had damn sure better contribute something substantial to society. 

[letmebecandid]

We don’t believe in labels!

[Alright, if you can’t roll with some Golden Girls references, this is your cue to leave.]

There was an episode where Rose had a job as the producer at Wake-Up Miami (morning talk show) and she convinced Blanch and Dorothy to be guests. Rose thought the piece was simply about women who lived in the same house. What unfolded on air, however, was that it was really about lesbians and whether or not society makes it harder for them to be openly gay.

--[during the first show’s break]--

ROSE: You’re mad, aren’t you? BLANCHE: Rose Nylund. Every man I know is watching this show. This live show. This live show about lesbian lovers of Miami! ROSE: Every man you know is watching? Hey, we could beat The Price is Right!

--[show resumes]--

TV HOST: We’re back. Let’s meet our panelists. Dorothy, a lesbian. [Dorothy tenses up at the word]. Blanche, another lesbian. [Blanche tries to hide her face]. And Pat and Cathy, image consultants.  DOROTHY: How come they’re not lesbians?!?! CATHY: We don’t believe in labels.

It should be pointed out that Pat and Cathy have a rather masculine energy with mullets.

The show continues on while Blanche and Dorothy are appalled at the thought that people all over their home town might wrongfully assume they’re [dun-Dun-DUN] lesbians. For some reason, Cathy’s response has always made me laugh so hard. She says it with fervor and conviction.

“We don’t believe in labels.”

Knowing how to refer to one’s sexual identity is an ever-changing subject that quite frankly used to get on my nerves. I’m not sure why exactly, except that it seemed to keep changing. In the last 50 years, the terms and their appropriateness have changed a good bit:

Queer is acceptable

Queer is unacceptable

Gay is acceptable (and no longer means happy)

Lesbian

Bisexual

Transgender

LGBT

Queer is back in!

LGBTQ

Gender non-conformist

Gender fluid

Am I missing anything here? Undoubtedly. And I have no judgment in my heart now for these titles because they help various people clearly (or with as much clarity as possible) describe how they identify. In the Christian church, I’ve also noticed some ever evolving descriptive names including homosexual struggle, same-sex attraction (SSA), or (the most abrasive I’ve seen to date) Struggling With the Sin of Homosexuality. 

Side note: I went to a Christian group in Tampa in my teens where people had same-sex attraction. It was like a round table of Christian homos sharing their woes. I didn’t exactly like going, but it was helpful to be around other people in my situation. There was a group leader who insisted on calling it Struggling With The Sin Of Homosexualty. He seemed to really love the sin part—but who doesn’t, amirite??? If someone said “gay” or “same-sex attraction” he would interrupt and clarify—just in case we forgot in the last few minutes—that it was, in fact, a sin punishable by an eternal lake of fire. I only ended up going for a few months because I just didn’t know what to make of it. Also, there was some dude who always asked me afterwards if I wanted to go “grab coffee” which I can only assume was a euphemism. Sure, he was handsome with white (though possibly veneer) teeth, but something told me he didn’t quite struggle with the sin part if you catch me. At that point in my life, I assumed any attractive male was actively trying to give me Full Blown Aids so I never ended up going to ‘grab coffee’.

So why is it still so hard to talk about sexuality? I have heard people say that the first time they said “I’m gay” or “I’m bisexual” was a huge moment for them. My guess is because it’s when they’re declaring how they see themselves. You belong. You exist. You have a family. What a sense of belonging and known-ness.

The problem I have is that some of these terms can also be seen as a declaration of how you behave, what community you belong to, or what you believe. So when I was single and not sexually active, ‘gay’ or ‘bisexual’ felt like an unfair title implying that I belonged to a community that, as I’ve mentioned before, I didn’t feel a part of. I would use them occasionally for the sake of brevity (or inclusion), but it never felt quite right.

Being married, if I refer to this topic, I usually say that I’m also attracted to the same sex. To me, that’s descriptive, not alienating, and paints a clear picture without unnecessary baggage or questions. I have heard the term “Mixed Orientation Marriage” being used more often lately. That is how some are describing a marriage between a man and a woman where one partner is, at least in part, attracted to the same sex. What I like about this is removes the secrecy that some people might have in this situation. Not everyone is in the closet so to speak. Some people, like me, are more open about the circumstances around their marriage and aren’t using their spouse to appear heterosexual.

Certain labels also passively imply sexual behavior. For example, if someone says “I’m gay”, someone might hear that and assume that they’re either dating or open to the possibility of dating the same sex. Others might use the term, but be celibate and a Christian, and just trying to describe their primary gender attraction in the most concise way. 

Maybe Cathy was on to something. Labels are confusing and it’s difficult know how they will be heard.  

It’s not my intent to make anyone feel any certain way about labels and what to call different sexual identities. I myself am not totally sure how to talk about these things in a way that’s accurate, respectful, and inclusive. But I think it’s important to think about it and understand that there are different reasons for why and how people identify. And it’s important to understand that, when someone tells you how they identify, they are trying to tell you who they think they are and how they see themselves. And when they do that, we should always lean in with the love and empathy of Jesus.

[letmebecandid]

Lookin’ good

Every night before our kids go to bed, we read The Jesus Storybook Bible. Well, more accurately, we tell them to wash their hands after dinner DON’T PUT SPAGHETTI ON THE WALLS, go upstairs and put their clothes in the hamper. Then we tell them about five times to brush their teeth with ever increasing volume until we have to raise our voice and say MOSES IF I HAVE TO TELL YOU ONE MORE TIME TO BRUSH YOUR TEETH SO HELP ME ALL THAT IS GOOD IN THE WORLD YOU’RE GOING TO REGRET IT!” And then he cries, and then Eden laughs at him for crying, and then he screams and says “STOP LAUGHING AT ME EDEN , IT’S NOT FUNNY!” and she whispers that it is, in fact, very funny.

But then after all that we read the bible like perfect angels.

If you’ve never read the Jesus Storybook Bible, it’s stories from the Bible, written for kids to understand not just the details and the why of the story, but also how those stories fit into the bigger picture. Each story points towards Jesus in some way—even ones from the old testament. One of my favorite stories in the book is the story of Leah called The Girl Noone Wanted. If you don’t know the story of Leah and Rachel from the bible, let me break it down for you:

Rachel is the beautiful sister. She was probably a fashion blogger. Dudes buy her drinks. She gets a blowout once a week with her besties. Loves frappuccinos with skim milk. And Rachel has a sister named Leah. I can’t remember if Leah is older or younger, but she’s very different from Rachel. She has naturally frizzy hair and still uses scrunchies (that she made herself in home ec). She wears old jeans, but not in an ironic way. Her instagram is private and she doesn’t take selfies. She hates makeup.

One day this bro, Jacob (who probably had a 4-door Jeep droptop and popped his collar) sees Rachel and tells her dad, “Yo, dude, she mad fine. I’ll work for you for like EVER if you let me marry her.” And so her dad agreed. Jacob worked for Rachel’s dad for 7 years and then they got married.

The day after the wedding (and subsequent consummation), Jacob realized that he accidentally married Leah instead of Rachel. So everyone was kinda pissed at the dad because he apparently married off his less attractive daughter on purpose (remember, her face was probably covered during the wedding and such). But Jacob worked another 7 years to win the hand of Rachel. Jacob must have really looooooooved her personality. Also, I guess you could apparently marry multiple women back in the day? IDK, the bible doesn’t always make sense to me TBCH... 

The interesting thing, though, and what sticks with me is that Leah is described as being so loved by God. He saw her heart and delighted in how precious it was. She was so loved, in fact, that God promised her that the lineage of Jesus would come from her and her descendants. 

The first few times I read that story, I got choked up ugly cried. What would it be like to have been Leah, knowing that not only did nobody really want you, but your dad pawns you off on some dude who really wanted your sister. And then that guy is mad at your dad. BECAUSE THEY ALL THINK YOU’RE UGLY. I have my fair share of self-esteem issues but that is some next level shit. But God loved her so much that he gave her a promise that superseded all the other praise or recognition she might have received if she was beautiful on the outside. THE CONTENT OF YOUR HEART MATTERS PEOPLE. I’m yelling this at myself too.

I’ve had an evolving theory for some time that someone’s level of attractiveness (or lack thereof) is directly related to how much attention they get. Sure, not exactly a new theory, but I have spent a good part of my adult life knowing this. When I have been of a normal size (think Zach Galifianakis in Hangover), people have noticed me more, talked to me more and engaged with me as an equal.

Unfortunately, almost all of my life I have been overweight, obese or (my favorite, almost gag-worthy description that my doctor likes to throw around as though I’m not even in the room with him) morbidly obese. At my largest, I was over 300 pounds which is roughly 50% larger than a baby elephant, for reference. So I was big. Really big. I couldn’t shop at Old Navy, never mind Gap or Banana Republic. My wedding ring had a muffin top. It was a whole thing.

I felt embarrassed, isolated, and invisible. People didn’t want to look at me and I could feel some people looking through me. Sure I had friends who loved me. And they would say things like “Shane, you are a really beautiful person and so funny!” which is best friend code for No, I don’t want to see your beach vacation pictures.

As lonely as it felt, I started to become comfortable with being invisible. People didn’t want to talk to me, so I didn’t have to engage. I pulled away a little more. I wasn’t seen as someone valuable with something to offer, or at least not as much as more fit/attractive people around me. This gave me more time to eat. At the time, I called that a win-win. I was jaded and angry; I didn’t want to risk being known anymore. Also, Chick-fil-A tastes good when you eat it.

I’ve since lost a fair bit of weight and am now proud of the way I look, but I still see myself as Dr. Goldman saw me. I occasionally catch a quick glimpse of a guy as I’m walking down the street and think dang brotha, looking good before I realize that it’s me I just saw. I am admittedly having a very difficult time owning my identity now that I am not fat. Which is funny because I used to accuse people of being vain and only looking at the exterior. But I only looked at my exterior to define me. Now my exterior is changing and sometimes I feel good about myself, but other times I realize that I am as thin and shallow as Jacob. Looking only on the outside without taking a moment to think about the state of my own heart. 

[letmebecandid]

But why dude?

I decided to start this blog mainly because I feel like I needed a dedicated place to put my thoughts on the subject at hand and point people towards it when they ask me. I fully enjoy having a good conversation about faith, belief, and sexuality, but a concrete place to think out loud and be totally candid about my struggles, frustrations, and insights was needed. Sometimes when I talk with people face to face, I’m afraid to say what I really think or feel. Some people are judge-y, some are confused, others disgusted (pastors, men wearing camoflouge, republicans, etc.). So I don’t always feel free to get down to the heart of what I’m really trying to say.

Here’s the thing, as much as I have a tendency to care about what others think of me, I now give zero point zero zero (0.00) fucks if my perspective or openness on the subject makes someone else feel uncomfortable. I have spent over two decades hiding or feeling ashamed that I am attracted to men and that is exhausting. I also don’t think that’s what God wants from me. There’s a difference between forcing your thoughts on someone else and just trying to be honest. I’m doing my best to err on the side of honesty and openness, but sometimes I get pissed off by American Christianity and homophobia and am more brash that I ought to be. Enter: Jesus, grace, and my new ZFG policy.  

There was a short stint where I tried to pretend to be straight by making comments about other women—comments that may have had a foundation of truth. Maybe a girl was beautiful, or curvy or flirty. But in my heart I found no satisfaction by objectifying her and talking about her like a sex object around other men. That didn’t really feel natural and it never got me a pass into the boy’s club anyway (which I’m sure had nothing to do with my keen sense of style and aforementioned mahjong circuit with my old lady neighbor and her cronies) so I decided to let the dream go of ever being seen as straight. I’m also not ultra ‘straight acting’ as they used to say (the new term is masc I think—IDK, I can’t keep up), so I never felt like it was a believable front to begin with. More on this later.

I have also spent some time around a lot of gay people, going to clubs, and partying. I was in my early 20s when I worked at Starbucks and Banana Republic. 

Side note, if you’re reading this because you want to be more sensitive to or friends with gay people, you can google and then go visit your closest Banana Republic. I’m not saying everyone that works there is gay, but you can’t throw a hanger without hitting a well-dressed guy with great hair and a tone body. Who may or may not also be a good dancer. I worked there in the late 90s, but was there yesterday shopping and I think this argument still holds water.

Anyhow, this time partying with the gay crowd was short-lived because I didn’t feel comfortable or natural around them. While I enjoyed the freedom of being able to talk openly about my attraction to other men, I also felt kind of alone. I always felt like I was made for more—that God had a purpose for me and that it doesn't involve this, whatever this was. 

If this sounds like a judgement, please hear me out. I love people—all kinds of people. Some of these friends I had I really cared about, not just because they made me laugh or were fun to go dancing with, but because they were first and foremost people. I have always wanted to be the kind of person who can see past someone’s exterior into their heart and engage with them as a person (except for really good looking guys. They can go fuck themselves).

I have spoken with guys who have said they don’t know how to talk about this stuff with other people—that I was the first person they ever told (outside of an anonymous hook up) that they were attracted to men. I know how hard it is to look in the face of society, religion, family relationships, others’ opinions of you and admit that you have a deep desire for something outside what you or others think is acceptable. 

So I guess I’m writing this for those people. If you are struggling to understand your place in the spectrum of gay-to-straight; if you are Christian but not sure what you should do with your conflicting feelings; if you are happily married to someone of the opposite sex but have same sex attraction, this is for you. Maybe you want to dig deeper into these things yourself or to understand a friend. I hope that my honesty and openness will encourage you to be more open and honest with God and ask him what he wants of your life.

Everything looks better in the light anyhow.

[letmebecandid]

A Few Ground Rules

If you’re reading this, you may have peeked around some of my writings and wondered where I stand on certain issues. Specifically, because I don’t deny that I have conflicting desires, my faith and commitments are often incongruous with my feelings (hello, every male who is married whose eyesight also works). So I’m upfront about that because I think we all have belief systems or committments that don’t allow our desires to have their day in the sun—at least the way we’d want to. Why do we feel the need to pretend that our feelings always align with our belief systems or truth? Or maybe by the time you’re reading this, I have published a NYT bestseller and you want to find out more about the brilliantly humble author behind the book that made you weep, laugh, love God a little bit more, and punch a homophobic Christian man in his fat fucking face. Welcome, you belong here.

Below I’ve explained—sometimes beautifully, sometimes with reason full of holes—what I believe about God, faith, homosexuality, worldview and faithfulness to my family. 

What I believe about God I believe in God. I believe in Jesus and that he was the son of God. I have a relationship with God through Jesus and I believe that my relationship with him is what brings me joy, purpose and, ultimately, eternal life. I’m not big on theology (I got kicked out of Bible college in my junior year and it’s been downhill since—but it’s a great story that involves weed, shoplifting, and four meals in jail so stay tuned), so people who start saying things like “postmillennialism” or “the right theology” I usually tune out. I love Jesus, he’s saved and transformed my life. Boom. I like to keep it simple. That doesn’t mean that I don’t find different ways to look at spiritual living and learn from it. But from my experience, people who get really jazzed about theology and biblical interpretation are also dicks who judge people a lot.

What I believe about the bible and homosexuality To many people, this is really simple. “God says it’s wrong” [cites the dozen or so verses in the bible referencing this] and drops mic. Easy peasy. Other people I’ve met say that, while they believe what the bible says, the context in which the bible refers homosexuality is somewhat vague when you look at the original text and they have peace about interpreting it differently than what mainstream Christians do. Where I stand is somewhere in the middle. Most of my life I believed that if I acted on same-sex feelings or embraced a gay relationship (prior to marriage) that it would have been wrong for me. That has since been challenged as I have met gay and lesbian people who are in a relationship with Christ and genuinely exhibit evidence of the spirit in their relationships and marriage. I’ve struggled to admit that out loud (and have changed this portion of the post since its launch) because in my mind, it didn’t matter *what* I thought was permissible before, because I now have a wife and two kids and that is no longer an option for me. But I’m in the middle of accepting what it means to be fully committed to marriage with my wife, to parenting my two kids, and still fully accepting and living as a loved child of God without shame. 

No matter how you interpret scripture, I see no reason to hold anyone outside of the faith to the standard of the bible since it’s not something they’re trying to do themselves. 

What I believe about imprinting and sexuality Since I’m sharing my experiential thoughts and musings on life here in this blog, I’m not trying to convince you of anything. You’re a guest in my home, sitting on my couch and you’re going to drink the tea I serve you. However, as you’re reading you may say to yourself, I wonder what he believes about.... So I’ll lay that out. There are basically three camps of belief when it comes to sexual identity origin that I can see. They are:

Nature: This camp essentially believes that sexual orientation is purely genetic—that there is a yet undiscovered gene that says you are gay, lesbian, straight, bixual, transgender. In believing this, sexual and gender identity is not innately right or wrong—it just is. There’s no need to go to conversion therapy for having blue eyes because it’s just who you are. It can’t change. Often people raised in Judeo-Christian traditions don’t believe in this theory because “God would never MAKE someone gay”, because, you know, he hates them.

Nurture: The nurture camp believes that life experiences (usually in childhood) largely shape sexual and gender identity. People who might believe this will cite their or others’ sexual abuse as a child as a reason they became sexually attracted to the same sex when they hit puberty (or before). Another person might believe that their emotionally absent father and overbearing/emotionally attached mother shaped their identity. Paging Dr. Freud! This camp typically believes that sexual desire emerges from and seeks to meet unmet emotional or psychological needs from childhood. I have met openly gay people who believe this. I have met others who are offended by this idea and have said it’s an insult to insinuate that their sexual or gender identity has anything to do fulfilling an unmet need from their youth. It really depends on how you look at it (and who’s doing the looking). I have also, unfortunately, heard the stories of men and women who who experienced sexual abuse in their childhood and subsequent same-sex feelings. While I think it’s offensive to assume this is the cause of same-sex preference for most people (it’s not true for my personal experience and many people I know), it’s also something that falls in the ‘nurture’ category of sexual orientation and should be acknowledged. 

Choice: People who believe sexual identity is a voluntary choice often think that gay people wake up one day and say “you know what? I’m bored. I think I’m going to try sleeping with a dude and see how it all shakes out”. Am I showing my bias against this theory? I do think it’s a ridiculous notion, and it’s often touted by unsympathetic preachy types of people who say things like “love the sinner, hate the sin!” Their interpretation of human sexuality is astonishingly simple and very binary. You’re born 100% heterosexual and one day wake up and start playing Tetris with your bathing suit areas out of sheer curiosity. I have asked people who believe it’s a choice if they themselves could foreseeably experiment with someone of the same sex. Shockingly, they could not. I have a lot of judgment for this way of thinking because, again, it is so simple and uncomplicated. I have never met someone who simply wanted to try same-sex sex and just plain ‘ole did and liked it. I have met people who lived and enjoyed heterosexuality and then had a same sex experience. Some of those people go back to heterosexual relationships happily while others discover that that experience uncovered a latent desire that was deeply met in their experience.

What I believe is quite simple My personal experience suggests that there’s some environmental component in the development of my sexuality. I grew up with overwhelming (and sometimes overbearing) female role models; my mom, two sisters, grandmother, aunts, female cousins, all of their girlfriends (and the Golden Girls). I played dress up with my sisters when I was a kid. My grandmother taught me a lot about antique costume jewelry because that’s what she was interested in. My mother relied on me emotionally to be The Man Of The House because my father was drunk, abusive, and then absent. Women were plentiful in my family and men were mysterious and brooding and left no breadcrumb trail to follow in their footsteps (which, in hindsight, was a beautiful intervention from God).

As I got older, my comfort level with women grew. When I was 15 years old, I went to my neighbor’s house to hang out. But my neighbor wasn’t some cool kid named Cody with a skateboard and a Bieber cut. She was a French Canadian in her 60’s named Doris Demers. She had Crones Disease, a wig and a swimming pool. Sometimes we’d watch the Golden Girls together, sometimes we’d play cards. I baked her an angel-shaped birthday cake for her birthday one year (we had the same birthday fifty years apart). I finally got let into her mahjongg circle when one of the ladies stopped coming (it’s possible the lady died but we never talked about it). So Doris, I, and two other old ladies in their 60s and 70s would play mahjongg and smoke Virginia Slims 100s. I’d go home smelling like smoke and I’d blame it on Doris’s friends if my mother asked. I felt like I belonged with these women. On our 16th/66th birthday, Doris and I went to go see Mother in the theater together. It was my first date with a woman. I’m shocked myself.

Motivations for belief I can’t talk about belief and imprinting and nature vs. nurture without also talking about the motivations for belief. We would all like to think that we’re open-minded and our belief systems are based on objective facts or observations that then informed our thinking—that we just so happened to stumble on the one worldview that is perfectly objective and truth-based. What’s more likely, however, is that our worldview informs our beliefs, not the other way around. If you’re a fundamentalist, conservative, evangelical Christian, you’re not likely going to believe that homosexuality is genetic. Because you can’t believe that. To you, homosexuality is wrong and God wouldn’t make someone imperfectly. You need to believe what you believe because anything else might threaten the foundation of your worldview.

Conversely, if you’re more liberal and/or if you are openly gay, then you’re less likely to believe that this comes from a flippant choice or a relational imbalance from childhood. I have met people who don’t fit this mold, but by and large, people who accept and believe living openly gay is acceptable believe that it is also purely or largely genetic. To do so would be a threat to the foundational belief of what is true.

Motivation is important, is all I’m saying.

This initial post is woefully incomplete and full of philosophical and logical holes, I’m sure. But hopefully, you’ve understood where I’m coming from and why I believe what I believe. If you seriously disagree with me or want to comment on this subject, please write. I by no means believe I have the corner on truth and am always growing and adapting my way of looking at the world.