Two daddies...two mommies...so much love

Emma got to go to the White House with her two daddies for the easter egg roll. Trey, at Daddy, Papa and Me writes beautifully about Emma and her fun on the White House lawn on Sunday. He comments about the controversy and says

O'Reilly, the not-so-bright-bulb that he is, was afraid that we'd make parents talk about homosexual sex to their children... but when those parents are explaining single parents or even just other families, do they speak of their sex lives? of course not, no reason with young children, including when talking about our families.

and

Of course, O'Reilly was right about something, for a segment of our society, this just made it worse. The section that hates us, it just makes them hate us more. It did no good with them. But I don't care about the Perkins', O'Reilly's and Dobson's of the world any more. I am not trying to get their approval or acceptance. I don't even care that the Bushes weren't there. I've given up having them listen to us and as yesterday proved, the didn't want to. I've written our president off. I will talk to the average American, who in the end has a heart of gold and American values of fairness, tolerance and acceptance. To them I direct my words.

Of course, in the end, what matters is that kids like Emma, Parker, Lele and NaNa had a fun day. Susan Mathis, mother of Lele, 10 and NaNa, 8, said

I look forward to the day when reporters won't have to cover a group of families who just want to bring their kids to the White House so they can roll some Easter eggs.

An aside...while I'm on the subject of gay parents, I want to highlight this from Steve at Adamant Sun:

When a constitutional amendment passes (regarding SSM), there are thousands of children who find themselves without health insurance. When domestic partner benefits get outlawed or overturned, there are children who find their legal connection to one parent severed completely.

These kids deserve so much better from their fellow Americans.

Hope rising

Happy Easter for those of you who celebrate it.

For all of us...

May hope be resurrected.

May light shine into dark places.

May we all rise up whole.

They dared to discipline

I was thinking lately about the things that I was taught to believe about myself--things like being "strong-willed" (in the negative Dobson-esque sense of the word), stubborn, melancholy, lazy, manipulative, wayward, stiff-necked, negative, thick-headed, too smart for my own good, "always trying to get attention," defiant, cold/calculating, and so on.

Sadly, I now realize that many of these messages came from my parents' attempt to parent with inadequate tools and Dr. James Dobson as a guide. He dared my parents to discipline, and boy did they take that challenge and run with it.

I was disciplined and guilted and shamed into submission for many years. It somehow seems appropriate to me that Focus on the Family is such a partner with Exodus. My parent's treatment of me as a child (using Dobson as their guide) no doubt made me all the more vulnerable to the ex-gay message. I was ready and willing to believe myself a damaged and broken person that needed to be fixed, with my sin nature needing to be beaten down and submerged, subdued, and dominated. I was willing to believe that my homosexuality was a part of my own strong-willed defiance gone horribly wrong and satanically out of control.

I can't even look at Dr. Dobson's book Dare to Discipline without wanting to weep. The way he talks about children makes me shudder. He calls them "tyrants" and "dictators" and seems obsessed with defiance. Here's a quote from the first chapter (link):

"I'll never forget a mother...who asked for my help in handling her defiant three-year-old daughter, Sandy. She realized that her tiny little girl had hopelessly beaten her in a contest of wills, and the child had become a tyrant and a dictator. On the afternoon prior to our conversation, an incident occured which was typical of Sandy's way of doing business. The mother (I'll call her Mrs. Nichols) put the youngster down for a nap, but knew it was unlikely she would stay in bed. Sandy was not accustomed to doing anything she didn't fancy, and naptime was not on her list of fun things to do in the afternoon.

On this occasion, however, the child was more interested in antagonizing her mom than in merely having her own way. Sandy began to scream. She yelled loudly enough to upset the whole neighborhood, fraying Mrs. Nichols' jangled nerves...[snip portion]...
The actual meaning behind this conflict and a hundred others was simply this: Sandy was brazenly rejecting the authority of her mother."

He goes on later to state, "When properly applied, loving discipline works! It stimulates tender affection, made possible by mutual respect between a parent and a child."

Does calling a child a "tyrant" or a "dictator" or "brazen" rejector of authority sound like mutual respect?

For parents like mine, who got almost all of their parenting advice from Dr. Dobson, is it any wonder that everything turned into a battle of wills and they saw their child as a "strong-willed tyrant" that needed to be battled into submission? Dr. Dobson is a man who says that "If discipline begins on the second day of life, you're one day too late." What kind of discipline could a one-day old infant possibly need?!?

I have heard of Dobson-style parents commenting on how "manipulative" a four-month old baby is, because the baby will smile when an adult is playing with them, but cry when it is left alone.

There's also the story of how Dobson treated his own dog, Siggie (yes, after Freud) in a battle of wills between man and beast. Dobson relates this story in The Strong-Willed Child:

"I had seen this defiant mood before [defiant mood being indicated by Siggie not wanting to leave a warm spot in the house and go to his kennel, and subsequently growling at Daddy Dobson], and knew there was only one way to deal with it. The ONLY way to make Siggie obey is to threaten him with destruction. Nothing else works. I turned and went to my closet and got a small belt to help me 'reason' with Mr. Freud."

You can read the chilling conclusion here.

This is a book my parents, and many other parents in Christian households, read (and still read to this day) in an attempt to learn how to discipline their defiant, strong-willed children.

Dr. Dobson goes on to say, "Perhaps this tendency toward self-will is the essence of 'original sin' which has infiltrated the human family. It certainly explains why I place such stress on the proper response to willful defiance during childhood, for that rebellion can plant the seeds of personal disaster."

I wonder what my parents think of their child-rearing methods now? I was their "strong-willed," "rebellious" and "defiant" child. I was the one who was told I was like "Israel--who were a stiff-necked people." I was the one who was harshly disciplined in an effort to break my strong will and subdue my defiant nature.

Interestingly, I have not had problems with bosses or others in authority. I'm well liked at work. I don't recall ever having much problem with teachers at school, either (well, except for that first-grade teacher who wrote "Christine talks too much!" on my report card). I was always well-liked by the parents of other children. In fact, one of the problems I had with my own parents was that I felt like I could never stand up to them. I could never say what I had to say -- what I was feeling or thinking. Does that sound like someone who is pathologically strong-willed or defiant?

And yet I wonder if they now believe that my willful, rebellious defiance during childhood was perhaps not properly weeded out, and the seeds of that led to this "personal disaster" of me becoming a lesbian. And the really convenient part (at least for them) is that no matter what, it can always be blamed on Satan, or on original sin.

This brings me to another thing I've wondered of late. In talking with other ex-ex-gays or those who have survived fundamentalist upbringings, many of us have in common parents who are absolutely unable to love unconditionally. These parents do things and say things that most parents would not utter to their children no matter how upset they were with them. Is it the idea of sin or satan somehow controlling our lives that gives them license to think of us this way, or talk to us this way? Is it a lifetime of thinking of us as "defiant tyrants" that gives parents the idea that their child is in league with the devil himself?

My own mother once looked at a 5-year old boy and said out-loud to him "get thee behind me, Satan!" because she was convinced that he'd looked at her in a defiant manner that gave her chills and that she could only attribute to Satan. She told our family about this later, with an air of pride that she'd had the guts to speak out against Satan in this manner (nevermind the poor child who probably still remembers that church lady calling him "satan"). For those of us whose parents see us in this light...could this be an explanation for why they are so willing to throw us away, to denounce us and reject us? Do they truly still see brazen and defiant tyrants controlled by satan when they look at us?

My parents often say that they did the best that they knew how to do. And you know, in many ways, they are right. They used the Bible as their guide, and spoiled not the rod. They turned to the Christian guru of parenting, Dr. Dobson, and put into practice his words. They saw what they were taught to see, and executed his parenting instructions with zeal.

Unfortunately, I'm thirty-four years old now, and it seems they still view me as a conduit of original sin, a vessel of satan and as a defiant and strong-willed overgrown child (again, not unlike how PFOX or Exodus views "homosexual activists" such as myself).

If I'm strong-willed, it's only in my determination to heal from this Christian-sanctioned abuse and to rebuild my self-esteem and my own sense of self and self-worth. If I'm defiant, it's because I will no longer allow others to define me with their harmful words and negative views. I will defy anyone who tries to do that. I reject my own mother's view of me when she sends me the following excerpt from an article she's written: "Father I repent for looking at our friends and coveting what they have. [Our friends who don't have children] will never have heartache from children hurting them. They will also never understand Your deep pain over Your children who run from you, and don't honor You. In some ways they (our friends) will never know the depths of your great love either. That knowing seems to be born out of deep pain and loss. I am so aware of Your unconditional love and compassion for Your children. I share that unconditional love for my children with You."

With unconditional love like that...

Thanks, Dr. Dobson.

How could anyone?

On Wednesday night I went to meet up with Soulforce's Equality Riders. They were here in Denver after having come from BYU, about to go to Colorado Christian University the next day. The local Denver PFLAG chapter was hosting them, complete with some chair massages and vegetarian dinner. I went to the event to see a friend from GCN (who happened not to be there that night, unfortunately).

But still, it was great to see all these folks so dedicated to bringing the truth about GLBT people to college campuses around the country. Having done an action with Soulforce in the past, I know what a challenging, draining, and moving experience it is. I was able to share dinner with some of the riders and spent some time talking to one rider in particular, Carolyn, who patiently and graciously answered so many questions while trying to eat her dinner.

During one point in the following PFLAG presentation, a lesbian and her partner (of 17 years? 21 years? anyway, it was a long time, just in case you're paying attention Alan Chambers) had us sing two songs. The last song was just the simple chorus How Could Anyone written by Libby Roderick.

How could anyone ever tell you
You were anything less than beautiful?
How could anyone ever tell you
You were less than whole?
How could anyone fail to notice
That your loving is a miracle;
How deely you're connected to my soul.

Not surprisingly, this hits me in a pretty tender spot right now. I couldn't hold back the tears. I bought a recording of the song on iTunes and have played it endlessly for the last two nights. I need to hear this message so badly. Maybe someone reading my blog does, too.

Local flavor

Yesterday after finishing a fantastic lunch near Coors field (Denver) my friend and I passed by an old-time barber shop. Intrigued, I stopped and poked my head in. The barber was sitting at a desk hand-rolling cigars. I was right when I assumed that no one did that in Denver anymore, and certainly not your average barber.

So we stopped and talked to him, and found out all about the art of rolling cigars; how they're pressed and made. Clay Carlton explained to us that he'd started a nonprofit organization called "Cigars for the Troops" that sends cigars for free to troops overseas. As he explained to a local newspaper, "Not everyone supports the war," he said. "But everyone supports the troops. This is something that's a direct perk for them. It's something that can be sent to a battle zone and enjoyed." You can read more about Clay Carlton here on his site.

I've gotten mixed reactions from folks to whom I've mentioned this (everything from "Why not send the troops porn while we're at it?" to "That's the worst thing to send them. We put them in harms way and then send them lung cancer?" to "Hey, what a great idea!")

I don't know about your neck of the woods, but around here the yellow "support the troops" magnets are seen on cars everywhere. But what do people do to support them in a literal sense? [An aside, I tried to keep one of those magnets on the back of my truck, next to my "war is not the answer" bumper sticker, but it got ripped off. I guess people don't like the idea of an peace-monger supporting the people who are there.] The only thing I've done so far to "support the troops" is buy a few phone cards for donation at my local post office.

I believe in self-determination, and the idea that I'm not the judge of what someone does with their lives, lungs, etc...and I know lots of guys like a good cigar now and again (and some girls too!)--so I made a small donation to this cause.

If you're in the Denver area, first stop at Buenos Aires Pizzeria (yum! and right near Coor's field - on 22nd between Market and Larimer) and then hop over next door and get a haircut or see how cigars are made (I think Clay's only there from Wednesday to Saturday, though). If you'd care to, drop a little something into the hat for the troops as well.

What often passes for conservative Christianity

I think I've probably been reading Steve Schalchlin's blog off and on since I first heard about it in 1998. He was one of the first people to ever keep a blog (back before they were called "blogs"), and has been doing it ever since 1996.

XGW linked to this recent entry from Steve, and I thought it worth mentioning here. He writes about a call he got from a Christian friend and former bandmate:

Now, flash forward a few years. I'm sick. The HIV has finally taken hold of me and we don't know if I'm going to live or die. Word gets back to T. I get a phone call in the middle of the day.

"Hello?"

And a voice comes on. I know who it is immediately, "AIDS IS A MANIFESTATION OF THE SIN OF HOMOSEXUALITY WHICH INFECTS YOUR SOUL. YOU NEED TO RENOUNCE YOUR EVIL HOMOSEXUAL NATURE AND COME BACK TO EAST TEXAS WHERE I WILL BAPTIZE YOU SEVEN TIMES IN LAKE JACKSONVILLE AND HEAL YOU OF AIDS."

"Hello?"

He details the rest of his experiences--including a recent e-mail he received--with his former friend and bandmate, T, here.

What a sad and poignant story. But what I really want to highlight is this comment that a guy named Mark Poole wrote in reponse:

I'm more and more coming to think that what passes for conservative Christianity among a lot of people in this country is really just a pagan or mystery religion, with large doses of magic and superstition and wrapped in a thin but brittle veneer of Christian symbolism. The bible and prayer and Jesus are wielded like occult tools in a Dungeons & Dragons game. It is sometimes nearly impossible (as in this story) to discern the spirit of Christ or the great Commandment to love God with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself.

'nuff said.

Let me sum up

There has been quite a bit going on that I haven't been blogging about, for myriad reasons. Mostly, I think, because I felt it was too private. It involved other lives besides mine. It involved family issues and drama.

But aside from telling my experiences as an ex-gay (and this is really a piece of it), part of the purpose of my blog is having an outlet for what's going on...a chance to get support and feedback, to participate in a community of sorts.

As Inigo Montoya says in The Princess Bride, “Let me explain…no, there is too much. Let me sum up.”

To sum up, I am, at this point in my life, an emotional orphan. Meaning I have parents living but they are not participating in my life, or I'm not participating in theirs (there are multiple ways of looking at everything, I suppose).

Of course, knowing me, you know I can't help but try to 'splain a little bit, right?

Here's the Reader's Digest condensed version:
[Edited in 2007; to sum up even further - my family is not perfect, I have deleted just a bit here that really just says, hey, we've all got issues, and unfortunately, I have significant issues with my parents]

I attempted to start some dialog in the beginning of 2005, and that went nowhere (I never got a response until I wrote again at the end of 2005). There has been some letter writing this year, but the main purpose seems to have been to attack, manipulate and guilt me. My original letter was compared to Japan bombing Pearl Harbor, or like me throwing up once on my mother when I was a small child [slight unnecessary snarky comment deleted here].

[As an aside...one reason I hesitate to even write about this because, well, I feel like I'm giving ammo to those who want to find out "why" I'm gay, and why I didn't change (see? classic moberly theory! she is looking for a mother relationship in other women! see? she hasn't resolved her issues with her parents, so therefore her sexual orientation can't change!) but I've never pretended I've had the perfect upbringing (I've always said that I could be the poster child for the ex-gay movement for their "why a girl becomes a lesbian" theories--the point I've always made is that no matter how I ended up this way, after all the healing work I've done, my orientation hasn't changed; end of story).]

So...to sum up, I am dealing with the loss of my parents, and the loss of a feeling of having a family. I am really done this time. For my own mental health, I need to go on with my life without my parents being in it. If you're about to tell me that I should try harder, or that I shouldn't dismiss family so lightly, just know this is a decision that's come about after many years of heartache (and subsequent therapy) and trying to resolve the issues. I had actually been thinking that I needed to end the relationship in the beginning of 2004, but have spent the last two years trying to see if there wasn't something that could be done about it. Trust me, it takes two and I'm the only one who genuinely showed up.

So it's difficult now to deal with the reality of it, and in the view of many others, my grief doesn't seem "real" (as in, "oh yeah, I fight with my mom, too"), and it's not something I can explain to most people. When I start to cry for seemingly no reason, I can't say, "My parents just died" (which in some ways is what I feel like) and people will understand. I can't get bereavement leave. I can't tell clients I'm late with work because of a death in the family.

I've been told to "get over it" and "move on." But I can't move on without moving through the grief, which is real, heavy and all-consuming. It has been hard to sleep...hard to concentrate...hard to just live my daily life. Combine that with a crazy work schedule and I'm just pretty much toast.

I've been trying to come up with something to do, some kind of ritual to mark this significant time for me. I am collecting items and putting them in a box. Things that remind me of the good and bad aspects of the relationship with my parents. I plan to have some sort of ceremony (maybe bury the items in the mountains somewhere) so that I can have some closure. I'm sending the final letter to my parents this week (I was going to send it today, but realized that I should have it arrive after Easter, so that they can enjoy their favorite holiday freely).

I'll always love my parents, and I'll always wish things had been different. I'll always hope somehow for them to change so that they can be more supportive parents. I'll always hope that they can see me differently. And I'll always cherish the good memories I do have, even as I continue to heal from the bad.

Goodbye, Mom and Dad. I'll always love you, even if it's with a broken heart.

Ooooh...

Somebody is shooting at random from a building near where I'm working. At last count there were 14 cop cars and the entire SWAT team outside (this is the view outside the window that is directly at my back). I guess if you want to commit a crime in another part of Denver, this would be the time.

Actually, we're just hoping it's not someone who's gone postal from the advertising agency...

[UPDATE: so now they're saying it's a suicidal guy with a gun in an apartment (just around our corner)...they're going in to attempt to negotiate with him...if you're the praying kind, please pray for this person.]

[UPDATE #2 4:31 pm: Apparently the suicidal guy wasn't even in the building. Turns out he was in Boulder. They broke down his door and found...no one...so the SWAT team is packing up and leaving...but there might be a suicidal guy still running around Boulder. Nothing to see here...nothing to see....move right along, please.]

The search is over

For my blog fans in the Islamic Republic of Iran...finally, what you've been searching for. Without further ado, here's your Toscano Sex Picture!

Back in the classroom

No, I haven't gone back to school. Although I admit I do consider it now and again.

Really what's up is I've had the opportunity recently to be on some panels in a few college "Human Sexuality" classes. I belong to a speaker's bureau at CSU and sometimes professors like to have a panel of people to share real-life experiences. Because I work freelance I'm often able to schedule around other jobs, as was the case both yesterday and today.

It's a great experience to be able to sit in a room full of people who, for the most part, genuinely seem to want to hear our stories. The panels usually consist of transgender, gay, lesbian and bi individuals, and each of us have unique stories.

The questions we get are always interesting and vary from the typical (for me, it's usually a question of where I am now spiritually, and how my family deals with my sexuality) to the unusual (yesterday we were asked something along the lines of why a femme lesbian would want to date a very butch lesbian--wouldn't she just rather date a man at that point?)

The unusual questions, or those that rely on (often incorrect) stereotypes make me really glad that we're doing this, and that these folks are asking the questions. How are they going to know if they don't ask? And I figure there's at least a couple other people that have the same questions who aren't brave enough to ask. How recently was it that we didn't even have these types of panels and discussion in college classes?

Even if someone goes into the class feeling like homosexuality is "wrong" or a sin, I'm hoping that at least they leave with the knowledge that I'm a human being with feelings. I've put a name and a face to something they may not have had a lot of exposure to, and I'm so glad to do it.

We often get a lot of compliments, too, and people who are so supportive of us--especially those of us who have had a hard time coming to terms with our identites. Today we touched briefly on the genetics (nature/nurture) debate and the idea that being gay was something bad that should be fixed.

I mentioned the theme of "brokenness" that runs through the ex-gay world and spoke of the title of my blog being representative of my new outlook on my wholeness. A girl spoke up and said, "Yeah, you don't seem broken to me at all!" and beamed at me.

What a sweet moment.

Working together

I just delivered 2/3 of the work that was due today. This might be the first time in my life I've ever missed a deadline. Fortunately the client is OK with giving me a bit extra time.

Anyway, I am getting through it, thanks to help from Max and Sophie (and also some good stuff to look at on my nearby bulletin board--click for a larger image).

I'm not Jesus

Just in case there was any confusion.

Over at exgaywatch.com there's a thread about Stephen Bennett, ex-gay extraordinaire (he believes complete change is completely possible - something even Exodus doesn't say) and his recent press release opposing HIV prevention drugs.

It was noted by Eugene that Stephen is mixing up his parables, saying that Jesus told the woman at the well to go and sin no more, when in fact he said that to the woman caught in adultery.

I added the following to the discussion:

You know, the interesting thing about when people say "well Jesus got angry and drove people out of the temple" or "Jesus told so-and-so not to go sin anymore"...

Am I the only one that thinks...That was Jesus? Did Jesus ever tell others to run around telling other people to sin no more?

I figure when Jesus gives me the ability to truly see in people's hearts and minds...when he gives me an amazing and overwhelming sense of compassion for other people....when he gives me the ability to tell someone everything they ever did in their lives in such a loving and compassionate way that they still want to introduce me to everyone they know, then maybe (just maybe) I'll be able to tell someone to go and sin no longer.

Until that time (and I'm not holding my breath waiting for the above to happen), I'm just gonna keep my mouth shut. Well, about whether you should stop sinning or not, at least--let's not go overboard here or anything.

No time for blogging

I had a great visit with Brian last weekend. Lots of fun!

But now I have paying clients who actually expect deadlines to be met (what is the world coming to, anyway?)--gah.

Thanks to everyone for the comments on my new blog design.

In the meantime, feel free to comment on the following excerpt from a letter to an ex-ex-gay from her parents:

Father I repent for looking at our friends and coveting what they have [free time because of not having children]. As I looked at them, I realized that they will never have heartache from children hurting them. They will also never understand Your deep pain over Your children who run from you, and don't honor You. In some ways they (our friends) will never know the depths of your great love either. That knowing seems to be born out of deep pain and loss. I am so aware of Your unconditional love and compassion for Your children. I share that unconditional love for my children with You."

With unconditional love (and guilt) like that...
/eye rolling

Brian's here!

If any of you follow along to gaychristian.net's GCN Radio, then you know who Brian is! If you don't, well, then you probably don't.

Anyway, he came out to Colorado for a bit of a vacation, with a special request to see the mountains (poor boy is from Indiana!) He got in yesterday and today it was beautiful outside, so we drove up to the foothills. The pictures are kinda bad quality (I don't have a proper digital camera, so this is from my cell phone), but we were having fun and Brian was enjoying all of the panoramic views, the nature visitor's center, a creek, and tunnels on the way up the mountainside. I also introduced him to Colorado's favorite mountain pizza--Beau Jo's--in Idaho Springs. The pictures of him at the bottom are at Buffalo Bill's gravesite. Brian really loved getting behind that dress with the gun!

Tonight we rented Rent! I hadn't seen it yet. Wow, what an amazing movie. I would really love to see that on stage. I have a very big love for musical theater (I know I've been told I have to turn in my "lesbian card" for admitting that), and this was just phenomenal. We also watched the documentary about Jonathon Larson, who wrote the musical (and who died at the age of 35 the night before it opened). So powerful. I love documentaries too, so this was just an awesome night to get to watch both of these with a friend.

Tomorrow we're planning to meet up with a few of the Denver GCNers and then come home and watch Crash. Should be good times.

"The opposite of war isn't peace--It's creation!" (from Rent)

A new look and name

I can't sleep, so I'm fiddling around with my blog template instead. Feedback, anyone? Suggestions...criticisms...whatever.

Oh, and I also changed from "Rising Up from the Ashes" to "Rising Up Whole." (No, that's not Rising Up Whore. Get your eyes checked!) ;)

I think one of the most damaging things about my time as an ex-gay was internalizing the concept that I was broken. That my sexuality was broken, my way of relating to other people was broken--that I was just...not whole. That there was something really wrong with me that needed fixing, and that everyone else who was straight was "whole" while I was inherently broken.

Well, guess what? I am whole, and I'm increasingly finding that I'm more whole than I've ever been. I'm still learning and growing and finding out every day who I am, but I'm rejecting the "broken" label. I am rising up...from the ashes of my time as an ex-gay...into wholeness, freedom and life.