Monday, November 17, 2008

People You May Know

So this amazingly hot guy popped up on my "People You May Know" thing on facebook today. We have two mutual friends, and I know I don't know the guy, but I really want to add him so I can stalk his photos. Haha. I think I qualify as a professional facebook stalker (but not in a creepy way, I hope). Once for one of my classes we had to write a short biography of someone else in the class. The professor expected us to do an in-depth interview with the person and write a revealing bio. Well, instead of interviewing, I just added the girl on facebook and put my skills to use. I ended up writing a stunning bio that won the "Most Funny" award. Good times.

Acceptance

Right now, the thing I want more than anything in the world is for my family to accept that I have a boyfriend, and to treat us like a couple. My family doesn't know that I'm even dating someone. My parents think that I'm trying to "be good" and not act on my homosexuality, and since this creates less waves, I haven't told them otherwise. Yet I want so much for everyone to know about it so that I'm not viewed as the "single one" anymore. Every family gathering I'm surrounded by married couples with children, and I'm automatically put in a different category because I don't have a "spouse."

If I were straight and my boyfriend were a girl (that's a lot of "ifs" but play along) we would definitely be married by now, and probably pregnant (by Mormon standards). There have been so many occasions where I've wanted to just say that I'm not single to everyone. It's really not that bad to pretend you're not dating someone, but at the same time, the single lifestyle is different from the "attached" lifestyle. For example, my mom was talking about how maybe I'd have to go move in with my grandparents because they're not doing so well these days. And while I'd be very eager to help them out, and I'd be willing to move in with them if necessary, that's something that only a single person could be expected to do, really. My mom wouldn't think of asking my sister to go live with my grandparents. My sister has a husband and kids. She can't be expected to go take care of grandma. In my mom's mind, I'm unattached, so it would be no problem for me to move in with them. In reality though, I live with my boyfriend, and I depend on him. I have a really hard time sleeping when he's not next to me. I get sad if we're apart for even one day. We're basically married, just without the official certificate.

Anyway, I think I'm rambling right now, but that's what's on my mind. I wish it weren't so difficult to have a gay relationship in Mormon culture. I just want to bring my "spouse" home for Thanksgiving and have everyone be alright with it. Is that too much to ask?

Admitting to myself that I'm gay

I've never really told anyone the detailed story of how I admitted to myself that I'm gay, but I'm bored so I might as well do it now. Just a warning, this is going to be a really long post.

The first time I remember having a crush on a guy was when I was a freshman in high school. He was a junior and we had the same math class. He had dark hair, dark brown eyes, and a really nice body. He was on the soccer team (which was the only reason I attended soccer games). I thought he was so incredibly hot, but I refused to say I had a crush on him because I hated the feelings I had. I hated that I was different. I thought that I could suppress the feelings, and continued to think so until December of 2007.

I served a mission from 2004 to 2006, and thought when I came home that I would get married. I had written a girl from my highschool throughout my mission, and thought that I might be able to bear being married to her. I always wanted to be more of a "best friend" but she wanted us to be more than that. I figured that she was my only chance at getting married, so when I returned, we started dating, but I was always extremely reluctant to do anything with her (and I mean ANYTHING). Not only could I not bring myself to kiss her, I couldn't bring myself to date her more than once a week. I felt so horrible because I felt no physical attraction to her. We broke it off after a month. I never kissed her.

After that, I realized that I was gay. I'd always known that I was, but I finally admitted it to myself, and I admitted that it was never going to change or even be subverted. I was terrified of what would happen if I decided to live the gay lifestyle, so I told myself that I was going to be celibate for the rest of my life and I would carry my gay secret to my grave. I would not tell a soul about what I was going through. My mom told me about her uncle who didn't marry until he was in his late 40's. Maybe I would be like that. Maybe I would finally meet someone at age 40 and get married, not to have kids, but just for companionship. My life continued like this for several months. I noticed hot guys on campus all the time, but I told myself I could never be with a man or a woman.

I struggled with depression for most of my life, but for the first time I began seriously considering suicide. I thought about it every day. Since I was so experienced in hiding my feelings from everyone, I also thought I had to hide my depression from everyone. I wanted so desperately to find help. Then one night my mom found me crying in my room, and I told her I was depressed. We agreed that I would go see a therapist.

I was so intent on dying without telling anyone that I was gay that I didn't tell my therapist about it. Instead, we focused on trying to get me out of my shell so I could make friends. He worked wonders with my confidence. I became comfortable with who I was.

Then (and I've never really told anyone this part because it's corny and I don't want anyone to think that I came out only because of this) I watched a movie online called "Rock Haven." Before that point, I'd thought that all gay people were whores and that only the ugly ones wanted relationships. Even though I knew it was a movie and that the characters in it were not real, it showed me that loving gay relationships were possible. It filled me with such a desire to find a relationship like that. I'm not saying that this movie convinced me to "go gay" but I would be lying if I didn't say it was a small influencing factor.


I remember going to work the day after watching the movie and feeling so good inside. I fantasized all day about finding a boyfriend and falling in love. About a week later, I met my boyfriend. He had been through a lot of bad experiences with guys, so he had a lot of barriers up that kept him from opening up. Eventually we broke through all those barriers, and our relationship has been amazing. I'm so glad that I have him. We are so incredibly perfect for each other. I don't see how it could be coincidence that I found him.

Anyway, this post has been very long and I've only touched on certain parts of my life that I'll probably talk about in more depth later. Congratulations if you actually read any of this. Haha.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

This one goes out to...

Yesterday my boyfriend and I were talking about songs we would dedicate to each other, songs that we could consider "our song," and songs that just make us think of each other. We have somewhat different taste in music. Lucky for me we both hate country, so that's good, but he considers my music weird and boring most of the time. I dedicated "First Day Of My Life" by Bright Eyes to him.

And he dedicated "A Sorta Fairytale" by Tori Amos to me.

I like "First Day of My Life" because I met my boyfriend at about the same time I admitted to myself that I was gay and didn't want to fight it anymore (I'll have to tell the detailed story about that later), so I kind of view that as the "First Day of My [New] Life," and that's why the song means so much to me. I like how the song says, "I swear I was blind before I met you" and other cute stuff about meeting the person you fall in love with. One line that is somewhat poignant to me is "I'm glad I didn't die before I met you." This line sticks out to me because before I met my boyfriend and came to terms with who I am, I thought about death every day. I carried around pills with me in case I suddenly got the courage to end my life. Whenever I stood at a crosswalk and saw a bus coming, I'd think about stepping in front of it. Whenever I'd be in the upper level of a building, I'd think about jumping. Now that I've met my boyfriend, I'm so incredibly grateful that I didn't end my life. I'm so glad I didn't die before I met him. Oh crap, I'm getting sappy now. That's how I really feel though, and it means a lot to me.

Another song that makes me think of my boyfriend is "Die Alone" by Ingrid Michaelson.
Die Alone - Ingrid Michaelson
I used to listen to the song before I met him and think about how I was going to be celibate for the rest of my life and would be lonely until the end. The song isn't really about that though. The song is about how she never thought she could fall in love with anyone, then she met the perfect person for her and suddenly she realized that maybe she won't have to die alone after all. It's kind of obvious why I relate to this song now, but I'll still lay it out. I used to think that I would never be allowed to love. I thought that I would have to live a life by myself and would become a shriveled old lonely gay man with an apartment full of cats. Then I met my boyfriend, and suddenly I realized that maybe I won't have to die alone after all. Maybe I'll have someone to care for me in my old age, and I can care for him too. It's kind of stupid for me to think so much about that, but I was always afraid of being lonely until the end then dying alone. It means a lot to me that I have someone now that I really want to spend the rest of my life with.

Anyway, I think I've been sufficiently sappy in this post for one night. Oh well.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

This is just to say...

My boyfriend is so amazingly cute. I don't know how I got by without him.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Sister drama again

So I posted that Keith Olbermann clip (about Prop 8) on my regular blog - yes, this isn't my main blog. I have a blog I use more often where I'm not anonymous... and not gay. Well... not AS gay - and my sister has obviously been upset by it. She made a post on her blog about all the things frustrating her right now, and included in the list was Prop 8. She talked about how it made her sad, but she knew it was wrong because God said so. I'm not sure when God descended from the heavens to preach intolerance against the gays, maybe when Pres. Monson encouraged members to support Prop 8, but that's not what really troubles me. It troubles me that I can sense that my sister is FINALLY starting to comprehend that I'm gay, and the route she is taking is the "Homosexuality Is Wrong And Can Be Overcome" route. I've already been through this with my parents. It took me months to get my mom to understand that homosexuality is not a phase or a state of mind that can be changed with hard work and gumption. I'm not looking forward to going through that with my sister at the moment. She might be ready to talk about it, but I'm not. I'm very happy with who I am, and though I am experiencing some pretty severe anxiety about school, I am happier than I've ever been in my life. I don't want to suddenly have my sister "all up in my bidness" telling me that I'm not really happy because I'm not doing what she believes God wants me to do. I know I'll eventually have to go through this with her, and with my brother and other sister as well, but I kind of want to wait until the anxiety of school is over. We'll see what happens. 

Monday, November 3, 2008

JDMA

I had a dream last night that I was a temp in the Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency. I was running around doing errands to get ready for some party they were having. The majority of the dream I was trying to show J.P. Calderon that I wasn't a loser. Haha. It was a pretty stupid dream, but it felt very real. I was disappointed when I woke up and found out that me impressing J.P. with my knowledge of Diana Ross lyrics was not a reality. The stupid thing about the dream is that once I realized it wasn't real I was overcome by the intense urge to start going to the gym again - in the off chance that I ever run into J.P. again. So stupid.