As I sit down to (finally) start this thing, it is with a
keen mixture of anticipation and trepidation. Ten years after coming out to
myself—which is about eleven years after it should have been fairly obvious to
someone as introspective as I am—I’m still trying to reconcile my religious
background (Mormon) and my sexuality (lesbian). (Obviously, or there’d be no need
for reconciliation.) This, I’ve discovered, is a process not unlike conversion
itself: an explosively amazing experience followed by a whole lot of work.
But before I get too deep into my own experiences, some
disclaimers:
- I am
not blogging as a representative of all gay Mormons. In fact, after
perusing some other blogs, it seems I’m quite different: I neither abhor
so-called “SSA” nor the Church. They are both part of who I am. That being
said…
- I do
not consider myself to be only gay or only Mormon—or even mostly
either of those things. I am also an
auntsisterpartnerdaughterteacherfriendreaderwriterartistdreamerthinkertraveller
and I could go on. The gay thing and the Mormon thing just happen to be
the two parts of me that are in the most conflict.
- And
speaking of conflict, I am not writing this to stir up any bitterness or
negativity towards the Church. I credit the Church with bringing a lot of
light into my life, and while my feelings are inherently conflicted, I
don’t want to create external conflict.
- One
more thing: I don’t pretend that my life, joyful though it is, is a template
for others to follow. I don’t believe that I have all the answers or that
my “lifestyle” (which is much more similar to that of my sisters than to,
say, the cast of “The Real L Word”) is right for everyone in my situation.
Please don’t read this any other way.
When I told my younger sister about this enterprise, she
said “You realize you’ll be opening yourself up to criticism.” I do, and that’s
where the trepidation comes in. I’m out to my family, my friends, my
colleagues, my students. I feel like I’m out to the world…but then there’s the
Church. Most of the people I grew up with have probably heard things through
the grapevine or figured out my situation on their own (I’m halfway through
thirty and there’s been no wedding reception; that says a lot in this culture.),
but because of those who maybe haven’t, there’s an element of nervousness I
feel. Isn’t that funny? All those years and miles between us, and I still don’t
want to disappoint people.
Well, enough self-disclosure for tonight. More to come.
