One Year of Blogging

It has now been one year since I started blogging. One year ago I started this blog to create dialogue and build bridges between different groups of people and communities that quite often don't understand one another and often strongly disagree with one another. During the past year I have written on a variety of topics, some of them rather controversial. I have made it a point to live up to the name of the blog and run against the grain. I have stepped out of the box of what is typically expected for a Mormon, for a bisexual man, and for an SSA man. I have stuck to what I believe, regardless of what others have expected of me.

It's been an interesting year. I initially had a list of topics that I wanted to write about. I was sometimes surprised at how quickly I moved through those topics and would have to find others to write about. Sometimes one came up just in time, and I would write about current events and my perspective on them. At other times I experienced writer's block, and struggled to find something to write about.

At one point I started sharing my personal story and introducing family members in my blog posts. I found this a wonderful opportunity for this normally rather shy and introverted guy to open up and share about himself with others.

At times I felt disappointed at the lack of comments and feedback I received on my blog posts. At times I would think that nobody was reading my blog. But then someone would write to me and mention that they read my blog, or they would mention it in a conversation. Where before I wondered if what I was writing was making any kind of impact, I heard from others what they thought of what I was writing.

For the last year, I have kept to a regular schedule of posting on my blog every other Monday. There have been times I've surprised myself for keeping it going this long without either missing a post or being late. For a man with ADD, keeping this up was quite a challenge, and posting regularly for a year is quite a personal accomplishment.

I have gotten a lot out of writing this blog for the past year. It has caused me to think on a deeper level on a number of controversial topics. And it has helped me with my mission of creating bridges of understanding and acceptance between the LGBT/Queer, SSA and Mormon communities.

It is with mixed feelings that I am announcing that I am putting the regular posting schedule of my blog on hiatus. I have come to realize that I need a break. There have been a number of times recently that writing a post has felt more like a chore than something I was doing because I want to do it. And I want this blog to be something I'm doing because I want to do rather than something I feel I have to do.

This does not mean that I am going to stop posting altogether or that I am going to shut my blog down. I still want to continue the "My Story" series, and there are a couple of other topics I have in mind that I want to write about. What it does mean is that I will not be posting on a regular schedule for the time being.

In closing this post, I want to thank everyone that has been reading this blog, whether this is the first post you have read or whether you've been reading everything I've posted for the last year. I also want to thank everyone that has shared with me their thoughts and feelings about what I've written, whether it was done publicly or privately. Please continue to do so. Knowing the impact I have means a lot to me. I look forward to continue hearing from the readers of this blog that have been a large part of what has kept it going.

My Story -Part 6

When I last left off in the "My Story" series, I had gotten up to the age of ten. In this post, I will cover another few years of my life. If you have not read the previous posts in this series, I have included links at the bottom of this post.

I continued to do well in school for fifth and sixth grades. Both years I had the same teacher for a fifth/sixth grade split class (meaning half the students in the class were in fifth grade, while the other half were in sixth grade). I continued to be shy, and was still slow to make new friends, though with the friends I did have I got along rather well.

By this time the school had converted to a year-round program to accommodate more students without having to build more schools or bring in more portable classrooms. There were four different "tracks," three of which would be in session at any given time. We would typically attend for about nine or so weeks, and then have three weeks off school. When we came back, we'd be in a different classroom. I remember at first how it felt different attending school during the summer, though it was nice to have breaks from school during the middle of the year.

I also continued to be a very avid reader. Our school was involved in a program called Book-It at the time, which rewarded students for reading outside of class. I was so far beyond the other students in the class, that at one point my teacher got permission from my parents to take me to lunch as a reward during an off-track period.

When I started junior high school, I continued to do well overall in school. It was during seventh grade that I stopped taking Ritalin for my ADD. There is some irony in the fact that I stopped taking it mostly due to forgetting to take it. Though because I was still doing well in school, and because some of my symptoms of ADD had dissipated, my doctor and my parents didn't see a strong need to keep me medicated.

The one exception to me doing well in school was P.E. (Physical Education or Gym class). While I maintained As and Bs in all of my other classes, P.E. was the one class where my grades dropped to the C range. It's not that I didn't participate, because I did, but I was not very well coordinated, athletically or otherwise, and had never had a whole lot of interest in sports. These factors came together to affect my grade.

P.E. in junior high school is also when I can first distinctly remember starting to notice my attractions to other boys and men. Though there was almost never any full nudity in the locker room while I was in junior high school, and I can only remember a handful of times that we were required to shower, being in daily situations of seeing other boys shirtless in the locker room, as well as when we'd differentiate teams by "shirts" and "skins," I was definitely getting more exposure to seeing other boys in states of undress. With this added to swimming activities in Boy Scouts, I started to notice that my curiosity about what others' bodies looked like was developing into something more. Over the first couple of years of puberty, this curiosity turned definitively into attraction.

The more I became aware of the attractions, the more I tried to hide and suppress them. I also hoped that this was some sort of phase that would soon pass. Obviously it didn't. I did not think of myself as gay, as that was a rather abstract term for me at the time, and from what I had heard from those around me, was full of lots of negative connotations and stereotypes that didn't fit me. I also didn't think of myself as bisexual at the time; while I did have some interest and attraction to girls, I was not familiar with the term bisexual at the time.

I also noticed early on that I seemed to be alone in my attractions to other boys and men. I remember some sleepovers with my scout troop in a leader's backyard (in which our leader and his family were sleeping inside) or other sleepovers with groups of friends in which we'd get into games of truth or dare. Though nothing overtly sexual happened with these dares, some of them did involve flashing, mooning or stripping. I quickly noticed that I seemed to be the only one that was interested in closely watching in dares that involved nudity, and I remember the embarrassment and shame I felt when others noticed me looking much more intently than others during these dares. I tried to play it off when I got teased about it, but in reality, I was horrified at being found out. The teasing, while fairly mild in nature at this time, reinforced the sense of feeling different and pushed me to further suppress and hide my attractions from others.

During the summer after I finished 7th grade, my scout troop went on a week-long scout camp. It was during this time that I first developed an infatuation or crush on another boy. The camp counselor assigned to our troop was about a year or two older than me. I quickly found myself drawn to him. Though I did see him as physically attractive, it was his personality that drew me in more than anything else. He was outgoing and friendly (and in particular, he was friendly toward me). I just found myself always wanting to be with him or around him. Though I never saw him again after the camp, I definitely thought about him a lot in the weeks after I got home.

When I was in 8th grade, my parents sold their home in Kearns and we moved. As it took them some time to find a house that they liked, my family ended up living with my mom's parents for about seven or eight months. During this time, my youngest brother was born. So for most of that time, we had eleven people living in one house. There was little privacy, and me and my brothers and sisters alternated between the one bedroom set aside for the children and sleeping on couches, sofa-beds, and love sacks.

I was able to deal with the living conditions without much problem. What did become difficult for me was when we started attending church in my grandparents' ward and I started attending school in the neighborhood. As was common for me, I was rather shy, and slow to make friends. That in itself was something I'd learned to accept and deal with about myself.

What was difficult for me was that I wasn't well accepted by the other boys my age in the neighborhood. Several of them I had met before, as they were my grandparents' neighbors' kids. But as far as most of them were concerned, I was just the new kid in the neighborhood and therefore an object of teasing and ridicule. What made it worse for me was that on the surface they acted like they accepted me. It gave me a false sense of acceptance and comfort at first. Afterwards I felt as if I had been lured in, only so they had someone they could tease and make the butt of their jokes. It would have been easier for me if they rejected me outright. Instead, they pretended to be my friends.

There was one boy that I was able to form a tenuous friendship with. When we were hanging out one-on-one, we got along fine. But whenever he was with the group, he reverted back to the group mentality and teased me just as much as the others.

As I'd already learned to hide my attractions, I continued to do so around this group. In fact, one could almost say that I over-compensated. I remember one instance when we were walking home from school in which several of them mooned me, and I responded by covering my eyes and acting disgusted.

But the real lesson I learned from this experience was that not only did I need to hide my attractions, I also needed to hide my feelings, because the teasing wasn't nearly so bad when they couldn't see that they were getting to me.

It was much to my relief when the end of the school year came and my family moved into our new house in Murray. I saw it both as an escape from the incessant teasing that bordered on bullying, and an opportunity to have a new start with new friends.

* * * * *

My Story -Part 1
My Story -Part 2
My Story -Part 3
My Story -Part 4
My Story -Part 5

I am now up to the age of fourteen, and once again feel that I have reached a good stopping point. As always, I appreciate your comments and your feedback.

The Pros and Cons of Pride

Last month, a number of cities around the country and around the world held Pride celebrations. There was one held in Salt Lake City at the beginning of June. I did not attend it this year, though I have attended it the past two years. My experiences at Pride have left me with mixed feelings. There are definitely positive things that I saw about Pride, although there were also negative things. In this post, I will discuss both.

As I mentioned, many Gay Pride festivals, parades and marches took place last month. The reason that so many take place in June is because the first Gay Pride March took place on the anniversary of the police raid on the Stonewall Inn and the ensuing Stonewall Riots that occurred on June 28, 1969. The Stonewall Riots marked the birth of the modern Gay Rights Movement. The first Gay Pride marches took place on June 28, 1970 in New York City, Chicago, and Los Angeles. In 1971, seven more cities held marches, and by 1972, the number of cities holding marches had increased to 17, and every major city in the United States had gay rights groups.

Pride does a lot of good for the queer community. It provides an opportunity to gather together. It provides visibility. It brings awareness of discrimination, bigotry and violence that still does take place against LGBT people. And it helps bring in others to support the group. It also provides awareness about the risk for AIDS and other STDs. It provides awareness and support for those at risk for suicide. And it provides countless other resources for those in the queer community.

I would argue, however, that Pride celebrations do just about as much harm as good. I'll illustrate what I personally noticed with the first time I attended a Pride celebration two years ago. I ran in a 5K hosted by the local Pride Center, watched the parade and attended the festival. This was all here in Utah, so my observations may or may not apply to Pride celebrations in other cities.

At the time I was working to balance my sexuality and spirituality, both of which were important to me. At all of the events that I went to, I noticed a general anti-religious tone and a specific anti-Mormon tone. This not only made me feel uncomfortable attending, but also made me feel feel less than completely welcome. Because I was religious and I was Mormon, I did not fit the mold of what someone in the queer community should be (at least according to the opinions I heard). I found some bitter irony that a group that so strongly fights bigotry and discrimination in one area was so willing to take part in it in another area.

The other aspect that flavored my first experience with Pride was the overt display of sexuality. I remember one man in particular in the parade that was wearing so little, that what little was covered left almost nothing to the imagination. And though he was the most extreme example, he was far from the only one. I remember joking with a friend afterward that if I wanted to look at porn, I could have stayed at home. Quite frankly, I did not find either the parade or the festival to be family friendly. There is no way I would consider taking one of my younger nieces or nephews to a Pride event. They do not need that kind of exposure to sexuality.

I think both of these aspects of Pride that I observed do a great disservice to the queer community. Rather than creating understanding for those that struggle the most to see the queer community as anything other than sexual deviants who despise religion, it reinforces those stereotypes. It ignores the opportunity to gain allies and create bridges of understanding, and instead widens the gap of separation, resentment and misunderstanding that already exist.

I am not opposed to Pride celebrations, as I do believe that they do a lot of good. But if they are to be successful in their goals of reducing or eliminating discrimination, bigotry and misunderstanding, some things are going to need to change. Instead of being little short of a gay Mardi Gras, Pride celebrations could take a lesson from the Civil Rights marches of the 1960s that did so much more to create the needed changes in society.

As always, your comments and feedback are welcome and appreciated.

Maintaining a Respectful Dialogue (Even When It's Easier Not To) and My Guest Post on Mormon Geeks

This will be one of my shorter posts. I wrote a guest post on another blog a few days ago (which I will discuss later), and I've found myself with less time than I'd like to write a post for this blog.

Recently, issues around homosexuality have become more prominent in the media again. In New Jersey, a bill banning any type of Sexual Orientation Change Therapy for minors (similar to one that passed in California last year) was recently passed in an assembly panel. Also, as the Supreme Court's current session is near its end, rulings on the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) and California's Prop. 8 could come as soon as today.

Both these issues are controversial and are very polarized. I've already seen comments in social media on both sides of these issues that are anything but respectful to those who disagree with their positions. Personally, I find some irony in the fact that many of those that are in favor of expanding rights in one of theses situation are in favor of limiting rights in the other. And many in both groups feel that those in the other are trying to limit their rights. Considering this, it shouldn't be that difficult to empathize with someone else that also feels that their rights are being limited.

It's really easy to just see the other side as the opposition that needs to be silenced or overcome, and nothing more. It takes more effort to work to understand others with whom we disagree and to see that they may have a legitimate reason for their opinions as well.

But, as I've often found in life, the easy thing to do is rarely the best thing to do.

My hope is that we will maintain a respectful dialogue with those with whom we disagree, even when it's easier not to.

And speaking of "hope", that is the topic of my guest post on Mormon Geeks. Keeping hope is something that has helped me (and continues to help me) through difficult times in my life. So if you want to read a slightly different flavor of my writing, read my guest post and let me know what you think.

Men's Groups and Men's Work

Most of those closest to me know that I have been involved in men's groups and men's work for the past several years. While my involvement in these groups has been extremely helpful and rewarding to me, I have had a difficult time explaining to those not involved in men's work exactly what it is. While in this post, I will touch on what men's work is, I will spend more time sharing about my experience with it and what I get out of it, as I believe that will tell much more about it than simply describing it.

About nine or ten years ago, during the time in which I was attending a support group for SSA men that were committed to living LDS standards, I first started hearing about a couple of different experiential weekends for men. The first was called Journey into Manhood and was specifically for SSA men that wanted to find growth, change and healing as an alternative to living homosexual lifestyles or being in homosexual relationships. The second was called the New Warrior Training Adventure and was for any man that wished to attend, and focused on emotional authenticity, personal responsibility, living lives of purpose and mission, and having a supportive community.

I had a number of men in my life that invited me to go to Journey into Manhood (JiM), though I declined for several years, mostly due to the cost. I also remember questioning how much one weekend could accomplish. Finally, after several years, and hearing from literally dozens of friends that had overwhelmingly positive experiences attending JiM, in 2007, I finally decided to go. And it was a wonderful experience for me, giving me the opportunity to truly feel and express my emotions, let go of a lot of the shame I'd been carrying and make a lot of positive connections and develop new friendships, some of which have lasted through today.

After going through JiM, I attended a follow-up therapy group that built on the principles and experiences of the JiM experience. I attended for a few months before I started attending an Integration Group (I Group), which is a follow-up group for the New Warrior Training Adventure (NWTA). With some encouragement from some of the staff and participants of my JiM weekend, as well as the men in my I Group, I signed up for an NWTA in Colorado, and attended it with a couple of friends from the Utah JiM community.

This was also a powerful experience for me, also filled with personal awareness, connection and friendship. And since that time I have regularly attended men's groups, be it an I Group or a MANS Group (a follow-up group for JiM) or sometimes both. Since going through these weekends, I have gone on to staff a JiM weekend, as well as several NWTAs. I've found that I get just as much out of staffing the weekends as I did going through them as a participant.

I also very recently went through JiM for a second time. After all of my life experiences over the last two or three years, it felt like a good time to re-connect with what I learned the first time I went through it. And I found that though going through JiM a second time was a very different experience than the first time, it was just as powerful an experience as the first time I went through.

It was, in fact, an I Group that helped give me the vision that inspired me to start this blog. One of the I Groups that I attended over the years had men that were SSA, men that were gay, men that were straight, men that were LDS, and men of no religious background in it. And we were all able to accept each other as we were without trying to change each other. As I saw this within that group, I began to see the possibility of this happening on a larger scale.

Being in an I Group also gave me needed support during the period of time I was questioning my choices around my religion and my sexuality. It gave me a place I could go and be authentic about what I was going through, while still receiving love, acceptance and support.

I have attended and continue to attend men's groups and do men's work because I see that it helps me better myself. The men I have met in men's groups and by doing men's work have become some of my closest friends and brothers. They support me as they are able to show me my blind spots, both good and bad, and helping me to keep them where I can see them. When I don't see them, I miss out on seeing many of the positive qualities about myself, and the negative qualities that I don't see start controlling my behavior. It's a place I can go and be authentic and open about all of me, both good and bad, and still be loved, accepted and supported, which goes a long way in moving past the shame that has held me down for many years. And I also get close connection, friendship and brotherhood with other men, which is something I've needed, but has been lacking earlier in my life.

In more intellectual terms, much of what I experience in men's work can be described as a mix of the use of Jungian archetypes, psycho-drama, cathartic release, and unconditional positive regard. And I believe that describing what I get out of it speaks a lot more about men's work than describing exactly what we do in the groups and on experiential weekends.

And that, in a nutshell is my experience with men's groups and men's work. As always, comments and questions are welcome.

My Story -Part 5

When I left off with "My Story" in my last blog post, I had gotten up to the age of six years old. In this post, I will cover a few more years of my childhood. If you have not read the previous entries in the "My Story" series, I have included links to them at the bottom of this post.

As I mentioned in my last post, I became an avid reader at a very young age. I enjoyed fiction the most (and I would read fiction in a variety of subjects), though I was also known to take an interest in reading from the encyclopedia and other types of non-fiction. Usually, once I picked up a book, I didn't want to put it down.

I can recall experiences from my childhood that I was more interested in reading than in playing with friends. If I was involved in a book when a friend came by, I'd more often than not want to continue what I was reading rather than  play with my friend.

I did well enough in school in Kindergarten and first grade, though I definitely had an active imagination. And it was very easy for me to get lost in my imagination when I was supposed to be focused on something else. My first grade teacher once had a conversation with my mom about that, and she also spoke of at times seeing me just stare at my pencil for periods of time, probably trying to figure out how the lead was put in there.

Once I entered second grade, being able to focus on school work started to become more of a problem, as I would still find it very easy to get lost in my imagination when I was supposed to be focused on something else. When it came to assignments involving reading, including a class competition for reading, I did very well (in fact, I spent more time reading at home than all but one other person in the class). Though when it came to other assignments, I would get distracted rather easily. I remember charts kept in class tracking our progress in completing various types of assignments, and I was almost always behind nearly everyone else in the class.

Shortly after finishing second grade, I was diagnosed by my pediatrician as having Attention Deficit Disorder. Shortly after starting third grade, I started taking a low dose of Ritalin. This was long before extended release versions were available, and I remember having to stop by the office at lunch every day to take my second dose of the day.

The difference in my ability to focus from before I started taking medication was like night and day. I was now able to focus on my school work and much more easily complete assignments. When I was in third grade, my school separated students into different classes for math and English based on what level they were at. I met with my former 2nd grade teacher for English, and she noticed the difference firsthand.

I continued to do well in fourth grade, remaining near the top of my grade level in reading, and at average or slightly above in most other subjects. I also continued to do well as far as citizenship grades went. I was definitely an introvert during my childhood, and it was almost unheard of for me to be disciplined in school for any behavior problems.

Though Jaron and Evan (mentioned in my previous post) remained my closest friends throughout my childhood, I do recall making other friends during my early years in school. There was Dylan that lived down the street that I was close to for a couple of years, until his family moved away. There was Derek that I met in school, and formed a friendship with due to some of our common interests. And there was Don that lived a few streets away that I was also close friends with for a period of time. Throughout most of my childhood, I was also close to my cousin Lance, who was only a month older than me.

I also had several female friends, one of which lived in the neighborhood for a few years. She was the same age as me, and we were also in the same grade in school. At about the age of seven, it was from this girl that I received my first real introduction to the differences between boys and girls. As this is the only experience of this type in my childhood that had involved any kind of touch, it is something that has stuck with me through the years.

We did not go on too many trips or vacations when I was younger (other than an occasional overnight camping trip, or sometimes staying overnight with my uncle and his family in Wyoming that lived about two hours away), so the few trips that we did take stick out to me.

My first big vacation that I can remember was when I was nine. My grandparents took me, my brother Matt, and my cousin Lance on a road trip. We first stopped in Reno, where we stayed at Circus Circus (which as kids, we thoroughly enjoyed), and then went on to the Bay Area where we stayed for several days with my aunt and uncle. While we were there we visited San Francisco, some some other sites in the Bay Area, and (for us three boys) had our first experience playing on the beach.

The only other vacation I went on during my childhood was about a year later when I was ten. My dad (who at the time did contract work as a drywaller) was offered a job in southern California, and so my parents made it into a vacation for us. We first drove down and stayed in Boulder, NV, where we got to tour the Hoover Dam. After staying there for a day or two, we then drove down to the L.A. area where we went to Disneyland, Knott's Berry Farm, Univeral Studios, as well as another trip to the beach.

One other event of importance during this time of my life was my baptism. About two weeks after my eighth birthday, I was baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Though I had attended church with my parents before this, and continued to do so afterward, this has remained an important milestone in my life.

* * * * *

My Story -Part 1
My Story -Part 2
My Story -Part 3
My Story -Part 4

I am now up to about the age of ten, and once again, this feels like a good stopping point. Stay tuned for future blog posts in which I will continue my story.

As always, feel free to leave comments or ask questions, whether here on the blog, or by sending me a private message.

My Story -Part 4

It's been a couple of months since my last installment of the "My Story" series. Most of the series so far has consisted of introductions to members of my family. This post will resume the sharing of my story. If you have not yet read the previous installments of "My Story," I have included links to them at the end of this post.

As I mentioned earlier in this series, my earliest memories begin around the time I was two years old, which also coincides with the birth of my brother Matt.

My dad has told the story of the day my brother was born. While my mom was in the hospital, and he was at home with me, I made a mess by dumping a ten pound container of sugar all over the kitchen floor. I actually remember this, though it wasn't until much later in life that I made the connection that this was the same day that my brother was born.

Being so close in age, Matt and I were pretty close growing up. We often shared a bedroom and we did a lot of stuff together. And as is often the case with little brothers, he was also good at annoying me (though just as often unintentionally as not), most often wanting to do things with me that I either wanted to do by myself or with my own friends. Though we had many of the same problems that most brothers do, overall we did get along pretty well.

My best friends during my childhood were also my closest neighbors. There was Jaron, who lived across the street from me and was born eight days after me. And there was Evan, who lived next door, and was about six months younger than me. I saw more of Jaron as we were in the same grade in school, though as we got older, our interests diverged. Evan and I tended to have more common interests growing up, and so we would often play together when we were younger, though we were a grade apart in school.

I was very sensitive as a child. I both have been told this by my parents and I have memories of it as well. It would take very little to get me upset over something, usually resulting in me crying. When this happened in public, there were times I got teased or laughed at. I believe that this played a role in shaping my interactions with others when I got older. To avoid negative reactions from others, I often remained quiet, withdrawn and closed off, as a defense against letting others get close enough to me emotionally to hurt me. I would often open up more as I got to know someone better, but early on, I would usually be very shy and introverted.

As I mentioned before, when I was younger my mom taught pre-school in our home. I attended it for two years before I started kindergarten. Being the teacher's son, I think I often got away with more than I should have. I recall at times claiming I felt "tired" as an excuse to go to my room and play.

I also recall experiencing separation anxiety from my mom when I first started kindergarten. I'm sure I wasn't the only five-year-old to experience this, but I can recall not wanting my mom to leave me with strangers I didn't know. Though I was able to adapt pretty quickly, it has left me with a clear memory of my first day of kindergarten. This is one of the first memories I have of the social anxiety that has endured with me into adulthood.

I was also a quick learner. I learned to read rather quickly (having a mother that was also a teacher, and had materials for young children definitely helped). I believe that it was during my first couple of years of elementary school that I developed the love of reading and learning.

* * * * *
My Story -Part 1
My Story -Part 2
My Story -Part 3


Though I have only gotten up to about age six, due to time and space constraints, this seems to be a good place to stop. I plan on continuing with another segment of this series in my next blog post in two weeks.

As always, feel free to leave comments or to ask questions, whether directly on my blog, on the Facebook link, or by sending me a private message.