Me - the gay. Diary.

Gay's blog.

I Fell in Love. With a Guy.

With a guy.Yeah. I know. I wasn't ever expecting it to happen either.But falling in love is crazy.Looking back I've probably started to fall for a few guys in the past. Maybe almost fallen for 2 or 3, and crushed on a dozen more.Before you get ideas, the relationship is already over, and it didn't ever go anywhere. I never dated the guy, never wanted to, and the friendship has been dissolved completely. He didn't want anything to do with people who were Mormon or gay, an

With a guy.
Yeah. I know. I wasn't ever expecting it to happen either.
But falling in love is crazy.
Looking back I've probably started to fall for a few guys in the past. Maybe almost fallen for 2 or 3, and crushed on a dozen more.
Before you get ideas, the relationship is already over, and it didn't ever go anywhere. I never dated the guy, never wanted to, and the friendship has been dissolved completely. He didn't want anything to do with people who were Mormon or gay, and I'm most definitely both.
But it was an experience that helped me understand the world.
I had never really been in love before. I don't find many guys attractive enough for falling in love to be an option. And if I feel attracted to a guy, I usually avoid him. This time, though, a wave of physical and emotional attraction washed over me and turned into love a whole lot faster than I was expecting. And suddenly every love song made a whole lot more sense than they did before.
In the weeks since I've read that being in love is like being on drugs. Just thinking about love when you're in love floods the brain with chemicals - hence the stereotypical weak knees, fuzzy mind, inability to speak, and general euphoria about life. Being in love can make anything else doable. And that was totally true in my case - just thinking about the guy I loved made life that much brighter, and when I could see him and talk with him, it felt close to a perfect day.
Did he make my world spin? Yeah. My mind was definitely high on dopamine and doses of every other feel-good chemical. I can understand the desire that other gay men have shared with me - to wake up next to a guy I love, to walk down the street hand-in-hand, to watch the sunset and care for each other and grow old together. To come home and have someone who understands and loves me completely back. To go out and together change the world, knowing someone is there at my side.
...
Because I want that as well.
I mean, I've been in love. And anyone who has truly felt love... has felt its mind-numbing effects and realizes how sublime a feeling it really is.
From that perspective, it seems understandable of why the world is so adamant that love should prevail over everything else. And perhaps in a world where physicality and sex were wholly separate, everyone would be able to easily follow the gospel and also find people they love. But in my world where all touch has been sexualized, same-sex sexual activity has gone from illegal and taboo to legal to acceptable to embraced and even expected. I can see why "love vs hate" is an issue. Why every gay guy I meet asks me about my feelings about love, and why so many people oppose any seeming attack on the ability to love and spend life with someone, anyone else.
Love is real.
And it can bring real and honest happiness - enough so that many have chosen love over God. Not because they want to sell their souls to sex... but because, at the core of my human existence, I want to feel connected. I want to love and feel loved.
I believe in love. I've seen it, felt it, been carried away by it.
And yet I choose to trust God. 
Not because I reject love, or fight against it to choose the more noble route of faith. No. My choice is not a sacrificial one. I choose to trust God because I'm not willing to give up love or faith. I know that God is real, and I will not deny the feelings of hope and peace and joy that the Gospel has brought my life. I know that love is real, and as uncomfortable as it may make me or others, I won't deny the fact that love, even when I fall in love, is amazing. And I know that, by myself, I could navigate life to follow only one...

...and yet both call deeply to my soul.
No. I choose to believe that, by following God, and His commandments, and only by following Him, I will attain the impossible. To have the best of both worlds... something far more sublime than anything brought by either one alone.

Four Options Survey

A friend asked me to pass this survey along. It takes about an hour to complete, and is being coordinated by a collaborative group with multiple perspectives... which is to say that some of the researchers are pro-religion and pro-celibacy, and some are deeply against.I want to ask you, if you have ever experienced same-sex attraction, to take the time to fill out this survey. Traditionally, these types of surveys have had far more openly gay (and anti-religious) respondents than those who aA friend asked me to pass this survey along. It takes about an hour to complete, and is being coordinated by a collaborative group with multiple perspectives... which is to say that some of the researchers are pro-religion and pro-celibacy, and some are deeply against.
I want to ask you, if you have ever experienced same-sex attraction, to take the time to fill out this survey. Traditionally, these types of surveys have had far more openly gay (and anti-religious) respondents than those who are quieter about their lives and faith.
One thing I noticed from the very beginning was the definition the survey uses for celibacy: 
" I usually don't forward surveys like this. Could you take the time to fill it out?

Am I Facing Up To God, or Do I Face Away? 

 &lt;&lt;&lt;I've believed that goodness was measured by actions. That by looking at my spiritual and physical resume I could determine if I was on the right path.The important part, I thought, was the sum total of the things I had done. If I spent time in pornography, I could counter it with service and family and friends. The hidden deceptions of my heart I could expiate by making the world a better place. Every sin had a price that it could be bought, every guilt w<!--more--> <br> <br>  <br> <br>&lt;&lt;&lt;<br>I've believed that goodness was measured by actions. That by looking at my spiritual and physical resume I could determine if I was on the right path.<br>The important part, I thought, was the sum total of the things I had done. If I spent time in pornography, I could counter it with service and family and friends. The hidden deceptions of my heart I could expiate by making the world a better place. Every sin had a price that it could be bought, every guilt washed clean through the indulgence of a good deed.<br>I was wrong.<br>In the parable of the workers in the vineyard, Christ teaches that the determination of who I am, and not what I have done - and from thence my choice of eternal destination - is only based on one thing:<br>Which way I face.<br>It's the only thing that matters. That's the reason that apostles pray for strength in their dying days. Even men who have done miracles in the name of God can turn away from Him. It's the reason that God reaches out to those who sin. Those who have chosen darkness in the past can transform and exchange their lives for the light of Christ.<br>And I can only choose one.<br>"No man can serve two masters. For either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will hold to the one and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon."- Matthew&nbsp;6:24<br>If I sin and seek to hide or justify my actions, it doesn't matter how good I appear - if I work at the temple or hold a calling as a bishop or love my children or have made the world a better place - I am turned away from God.<br>And in the same breath, if I truly want to repent and choose to humbly submit my will to God, it doesn't matter what I've done or the breadth of my accomplishments. I am turned to Him, and His Grace can make me whole.<br>It takes incredible strength to submit to God. It's easy to take control of my life and to choose the path I take. It takes far more conviction and strength of soul to let Him guide my life and set the course of my faith. Those who submit to God are never weak.<br>It's my choice.<br>And, at the end of the day, it's the only choice that matters.<br><br>

Second-class Citizen

I remember once overhearing a conversation among a group of LDS women - singles and leaders from my YSA ward. A woman mentioned that she knew someone who had just broken up with a guy who was attracted to other men. The responses of the other women were telling. "Don't ever date someone like that..." "She got herself out of a bad situation..." "Promise you'll never marry someone who is gay..."Something inside me broke that day. I had never realized that being gay was seen I remember once overhearing a conversation among a group of LDS women - singles and leaders from my YSA ward. A woman mentioned that she knew someone who had just broken up with a guy who was attracted to other men. The responses of the other women were telling. 
"Don't ever date someone like that..." "She got herself out of a bad situation..." "Promise you'll never marry someone who is gay..."
Something inside me broke that day. I had never realized that being gay was seen as a liability in some circles of the Mormon dating world beyond the simple fact that it made dating hard for me.
That experience was years ago.
Someone asked me if I'm at all interested in girls. And I just realized today that I still feel deep shame, and honestly, unworthiness related to that same issue.
But I don't know how to work through it.
There's a girl I know that was part of that conversation. I've had the desire to ask her out before. I didn't. She had a steady boyfriend, and while I'm an awesome guy in most fields, I feel woefully inadequate when it comes to this. Anyone would be a better option than I would... and she had plenty of options. She still does. Years later, she has another boyfriend, and I still haven't ever asked her out or even mentioned that I had wanted to.
Maybe that would be a good thing to do. Just mentioning it doesn't sound as vulnerable as asking. I could mention it.
But vulnerability is what I'm going for. Is putting myself out there so awful? What's the worst that can happen? I've already rejected myself as wholly undesirable, and I know my entire story. No one can top that.
And being ok with vulnerability is what I'm trying to achieve inside myself. While it's unlikely that anything would come of the conversation from a dating perspective, the authenticity (= courage to live boldly and have courage) gained on my part would be a huge boon regardless of result.
But where is the feeling coming from?
And here's me being vulnerable here.
I think it means that I have a ways to go in accepting myself and loving myself. 
I know lots of guys who are paranoid about their family or friends learning about their sexuality... or at least their friends who are also gay. Those I've tried to befriend kept me on the fringe of their lives - sometimes mutual friends are inevitable and they'll make up a story about how we met, but usually they'll go to great lengths to isolate me from ever meeting people in their other lives.
I know the feeling. I've felt, at least somewhat, the same way. I remember being afraid that people would learn I was gay and facing enormous, looming, unknowable-but-awful consequences... supported by a few bad personal experiences and some awful stories.
"What if it goes away? What if I can deal with it by myself? Why do I need to tell anyone? Won't it just make life harder?"
This isn't a post on coming out. That's a personal decision between one person and God, not between me or anyone else.
But I think that (breathe, David... it's going to be ok) this realization that I feel like a second-class citizen in the dating world means I am still at odds with being gay.
 It means that, somewhere inside me, I honestly think that being gay is shameful. That it's a liability. Even though I'm upfront and candid with family, friends, and the world about being attracted to guys, even though I've seen how much it has influenced my life and been a mortal experience that has shaped me, I've still bought into the feeling that it's an unsavory part of who I am... and that I'm less valuable as a person (or more specifically, as a potential dating or marriage partner) because it is something I face.
That...
That sucks.
I didn't want to say that. It actually took me a few minutes to even write the last sentence because "sucks" feels like gutter slang to me. I don't say that when I speak. But it's also the only thing that hit the feeling. It's depressing, frustrating, angering, stupid, and a handful of other emotions all crushed into one.
...
Yeah.
And it's even worse because, likely, if I'm feeling that way, there are a lot of guys out there who feel the same way. And maybe even some who are reading this post and feeling the soul-crushing, gut-twisting shame that I felt while writing it... and wondering just like I am how to get out of it.
I don't know.
But I do know some things I can do to work through it.
I can make the commitment to treat the people in my life like the awesome people that they are - and to never, ever hide myself or them because I'm afraid of someone finding out about me.
I can talk to this girl (or call / write her) and share my thoughts. Not this whole post, but the thoughts I had about asking her out and how feeling second-class made it take so long to share them.
And I can ask God to help me really believe that I am worthwhile, and even spectacular, with all the things that I carry in life. Learning to love myself more is a process - not something I'm going to ever "reach"... but God does love me fully, and He can help me along the path to believing more in me.

Existential Crises

Most days I find myself facing existential crisis. I don't use that term lightly... and I'm only writing about it because I have finally realized that my daily dose of crisis isn't all that normal. And because being vulnerable - understanding my own weakness - is an important part of thriving in life.The seed sprouts from a mild sense of disconnection. That can come from pretty much anything - when I misinterpret communication from a friend or even a stranger, when there are delays, and pretMost days I find myself facing existential crisis. I don't use that term lightly... and I'm only writing about it because I have finally realized that my daily dose of crisis isn't all that normal. And because being vulnerable - understanding my own weakness - is an important part of thriving in life.
The seed sprouts from a mild sense of disconnection. That can come from pretty much anything - when I misinterpret communication from a friend or even a stranger, when there are delays, and pretty much any time my expectations and reality don't match perfectly.
The sense of disconnection, if it remains and my mind has a moment to think, sensitizes me to one of my personal shame triggers - the deeply set belief that I'm not worthwhile in relationships... and that people would be better off without me in their lives.
My inner persona recoils with shame when the trigger gets flipped. It begins chanting positive affirmations in the hope that one will stick: "I'm not a worthless person. I've done lots of really good things. I make a difference. People love me for who I am... right?"
But in that moment all the things I've ever done don't matter. They're all in the past. They talk about the past me - not the current me. And then I am suddenly engaged in a war with myself, feverishly attempting to show that my life and life's activities prove my worth.
My day-to-day flashes before my eyes, from my distant plans for the future down to the things I did just moments before.
Everything gets weighed. Everything gets judged. Does this really make a difference to the world? Does this really prove that I am good?
And if I can't explain how something in my life is essential to the wellbeing of humanity, it gets tossed to the cutting floor.
Then there's free time - pre-existent or created through the culling - and, without skipping a beat, my internal urge demands that each moment be filled with a valuable, meaningful activity that will change the fabric of the world.
If I can do it, then the crisis fades. The shame quells. And the exhausting fear of being a failure quiets into the fear of failing.
But if I come up short - if I can't identify something meaningful enough, or if I lack the resources to work on it, or sometimes without any excuse at all, the feeling escalates to true crisis. Overwhelming shame fills my soul, and I find myself wanting, wishing I could do anything to get away from myself. Sometimes I have the foresight to drug myself with endorphins at the gym. Other times I down an entire jar of peanut butter, even on a fast day. Or I try (it used to work) to drown myself in video games or movies.
Eventually, no matter what happens in my internal war, the feeling subsides. I clean up the wreckage and start my life again.
Good things come from my sorties with meaning. I find myself pushed constantly - daily even - to better understand my role in the universe and how I can play a better part. I think about how I can be a better friend, a better brother, a better father someday, and I make real plans on how to fulfill those goals.
But I am realizing that these constant daily battles are deeply rooted in fear and shame. I am afraid that I'm not enough. I'm ashamed that I'm not good enough. I'm ashamed that I'm not worthwhile as a friend, as a potential husband, as a future father, as a brother and a son. And so many of the good things I do are an attempt to prove to myself that I'm good enough.
But it doesn't work.
Because while I may be able to convince everyone else, doing great and marvelous things will never make me accept myself. A resume full of glorious accomplishments won't take away my flaws and my weaknesses. Nothing will. And only humility, and compassion, could ever allow me to accept myself for who I really am.
I don't yet believe that I am worthy of love. I don't yet believe that I am worthy of friendship or compassion or anything good at all. I've done good things. I've spent my life trying to prove my worth. Most days I'm honestly happy. I spend my hours and minutes doing amazing things and connecting with people in ways I never would have thought possible.
But sometimes I still have trouble believing in me.

Light in the Darkness

I am sometimes really, really hard to teach.I want to make my own decisions. I want to do my own thing. I want to do what I want. And the feedback God was giving me was something I didn't want to hear.Not only was it something that I didn't want to hear, it was something that threatened the way I look at the world. It seemed to threaten my way of life, the way I interact with people, and everything I hold dear.I'm grateful that He tried again.This last week was easily th

I am sometimes really, really hard to teach.
I want to make my own decisions. I want to do my own thing. I want to do what I want. And the feedback God was giving me was something I didn't want to hear.
Not only was it something that I didn't want to hear, it was something that threatened the way I look at the world. It seemed to threaten my way of life, the way I interact with people, and everything I hold dear.
I'm grateful that He tried again.
This last week was easily the worst week in my memory of ever. The emotional turmoil I experienced ripped me from head to toe, deeply and soundly enough that if I still were bipolar I likely would have also been tempted to commit suicide.
Depression would have brought a feeling of utter worthlessness. But at one point I honestly felt that my life was not only not positive, but truly negative. That my simple existence in the world caused only unimaginable pain to the people I care about most. That everything I ever touched would be ravaged, that anyone I tried to get close to would be shredded in the whirlwind... and since I find myself deeply loving all the people I meet, the only kind thing I could do in life would be to stay away from everyone.
I'm usually a pretty level-headed guy. Ever since my mood swings have gone away, most of the time my emotions are kept easily in check. And so feeling so deeply crushed and ripped that I wanted to yell and cry and pound my steering wheel and drown my sorrows in Christian music... was an intense experience.
I tried spending time with people. But it didn't work - the things that would lift me up couldn't reach me. And some of my attempts backfired and left me hurting even more.
Finally, Saturday afternoon I collapsed in a heap on a porch swing. I fell asleep, woke up, and checked my email to find a comment here on (G)MG.
And as I read, God told me again what He had wanted me to learn.
As I said, I am sometimes really, really hard to teach.
But this time, pushed to the lowest of my lows (albeit by things that once seemed almost inconsequential), I finally listened.
His guidance?
I need to surround myself with awesome people who see me for who I am.
People who can see that I love deeply and completely. People who can give me the benefit of the doubt when autism and miscommunication get in the way. People who love me and always assume I have the best intentions, and who are willing to work through problems when they inevitably arise. People with hearts of gold... who can see my own through the layers of my mortality.
And, hidden along with that feedback, that I should change how I live my life.
I've always wanted everyone to be my friend. Part of it is that I don't easily feel connected to people... and so anyone who wants to be my friend instantly is raised to that level. People close to me have told me that I should be more judicious of who I give my time to... but how could I do that? Everyone is worth my time. Everyone needs a friend. And I definitely need them... so why not expand my love to include anyone who is willing?
The feedback to surround myself with people who see me for who I am teaches far more deeply into my life... because it tells me not to surround myself with those who don't.
God has told me I'm supposed to not pursue friendships with good people that I wanted to befriend. Not to ignore them, but that I am supposed to choose my friends instead of wanting every good living soul to stand in my circle. 
That's rough.
I can see at least some reason. I only have so many hours in the day... and most of them are already taken. I only have so much emotional energy. And looking at the prophetic counsel I've heard for years, maybe I should have guidelines and expectations for friendship other than, "You're currently willing to give me time." I've looked for people with ambition, with passion, with education or talent... I've looked for any way to find connection with friends in countless places, taking anyone who would take me.
And that was a valuable part of my life.
Moving forward, God has told me that I need people who will lift me, inspire me, and love me, and God, deeply - first. Everything else comes second.
And as frustrating as it may be, as much as I want to honestly go against His feedback right now and pursue close friendship with good people I want badly to have in my life but who just happen to not have that quality...
It feels right.
And I'm willing to follow.
I can only remember feeling this way once before. Not all that long ago, I wanted to get a PhD, enter the world of academia, and change the world. I had enormous ambition and had a plan for myself and the world. Everything lined up, everything seemed to be perfectly set. And then, in no uncertain terms, God told me that He would bar my way. He took my ambition and told me He had different plans, effectively locking the door on one of my greatest dreams and telling me to move on. In the years since, while I've done a lot, none of it was in the limelight. But while my plans and accomplishments didn't shake the earth, they changed the lives of people one-on-one.
So God has yet again closed a door. But, (Sound of Music), when God closes a door, He always opens a window somewhere.
I'm torn. Part of me is excited at running in a different direction, and the inherent promise that I will find more amazing people - people with hearts of gold - to include in my life. Part of me is grateful for the amazing people who have already become part of it. And part of me is still pulling on the handle of the door, wanting it to unlock so I can go back inside.
It'll be awesome, David. Get up and get running again.
You ready?
Set.
Go.