No Going Back

This is a book review of "No Going Back," a book by Jonathan Langford that was mentioned a few weeks back in Justin's post about gay themed movies and books. I hadn't heard of this one so I thought I would give it a try. These opinions are strictly my own. I will try to keep it short so as to not lose you before it's even started. (Warnings: there may be spoilers, but it's still a really good read...also it has the word faggot a lot, but I just think of thishttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2M9TzdnSpLo)

This book is about a gay teenage Mormon growing up in western Oregon in 2003. First of all, I wish I had heard about this book sooner. Just it seems to me that now that I'm okay with myself I finally find all the things I was looking for before to help me be okay with myself.

The protagonist is a fifteen-year-old boy named Paul, and the plot revolves around the happenings as a result of his coming out. The book just starts right out with Paul coming out to his best friend Chad. It's not about him figuring out he's gay and going through that, but dealing with people's reactions and figuring out what he really wants. (For me, this has been the longer process of the two.) At first I was slightly disappointed, especially after Chad's reaction is basically calling Paul a faggot and storming out. But then the focus switches to Chad's thoughts and you see how he struggles with this new information and the fact that he still cares for his best friend and what that means for him.

The book is written in third person omniscient. Langford writes from the point of view of every major character (and some minor ones) and he does a really good job at approaching this issue from all sides. It's not just a book about a gay boy, but also the people in his life. I think that not only makes it easier for more people to relate to this book, because you'll at least fit in one of the character's shoes, but also you see how different people deal with the same issue. I think many times we forget that other people see the same things differently (or as my mom always says, there's two sides to every story).

Paul comes out to his best friend, his mom, and his bishop. I thought these were the most important and handled very well:

• I was a bit scared at how he would write the bishop's reaction, but it was what it should be. As long as Paul didn't do anything against the standards of the church he was completely worthy. I know that some bishops don't react like this because they think the act of identifying as gay is wrong, and this just pushes the person farther away from the church.
• His mom goes looking for information that's out there, but is only able to find politically charged support groups. She's not interested in politics or gay rights, only in finding a way to help her son and make his life as easy as possible, because she loves him.
• Chad has his ups and down in the book, finding what this means for him and what it means for his relationship with Paul and also dealing with other people's reactions, including his own parents (because they think he might catch "the gay"). In the end he sticks next to his friend and stands up for him, even when others start saying that he's gay too and call him the same horrible names. This is the kind of friend I want next to me, and what I try to be.

Not all the reactions were good, which is probably something every one has experienced also. Paul joins the GSA (gay-straight alliance) at his high school because he needs people who understand that part of him and make him feel like he belongs somewhere. Unfortunately, they don't like the fact that he's Mormon and tell him that he should just forget about the church. It's hard for them to understand why he can't give up something that they view as so hateful. This is a problem I can relate to. Many people don't understand why I can't just stop being gay, and on the other hand people have told me that I'm not being true to myself if I keep letting the church tell me what to do. I always find it interesting when people get mad if you don't accept them, but have no problem not accepting others for everything they are. This is why I am very grateful that here at BYU we have USGA where everyone understands the struggle of living these two equally important parts of you and finding that balance inside of you.

To add an even deeper level, Langford places it in a time when a gay marriage law is trying to pass and shows just how quickly people become political and forget the whole point is to love one another. I guess it's just the way that I think, but I was very surprised at how many of the characters were so quick to call faggot (his church youth group especially) and ostracize him, and associate his being gay to his being a bad person. I never came out very openly before college so I'm not sure if it's just teenagers can be cruel, or if I've just been very lucky to find people who aren't so stupid. It also made me appreciate my own parents' reaction a lot more.

I really enjoyed this book, but the ending got to me a little. The message I walked away with is that it would be better to just ignore this part of you and go on living in the church in silence. This may not be the message Jonathan Langford was attempting to send, who knows. I personally just think that I couldn't do that. For me I needed to accept my being lesbian as much as I needed my being Mormon. I needed to be able to love that part of me before I could accept any of me. Had I read this a few years back I'm not sure I would have been brave enough to really search for that love for myself. I would have been more scared and more in the closet. Maybe that's why I haven't found it before now. But the truth is, Langford's story is a reality for some people. Over all I recommend reading it for yourselves, and especially approaching it with a truly open mind.

~Bridey J

This and That

So, here's a short anecdote from my own life. This last week my roommate was complaining that no boys had come and asked her on a date (we were doing this thing in my ward where they were supposed to, so it made sense). It was supposed to be just a little fun date, nothing serious, so I told her "If you want, I'll take you on a date". She looked at me with this look that has grown so familiar to me and has come to say 'Bridey, I'm still not a lesbian', to which she added "I love you, but it just wouldn't be the same". I pulled my best sad/hurt face and said "I tell people that all the time, but no one believes me". I'm not quite sure why, but this was instantly hilarious to both of us and had us holding our sides in laughter. I love my roommates, and I love that we can have these moments.

Afterwards we talked about it a bit, how the situation would be the same, just with different people. Just as going on a date with a girl isn't really her can of olives (if you will), going out with a boy is not something I get excited about either. There have been other times in my life where I've been asked to explain to someone how I feel towards women, because they cannot understand, as the idea is foreign to them. I've heard people compare it to being born with a mental illness--in that I did not choose this for myself, etc. Recently I heard it compared to someone who is predisposed to become an alcoholic...they have these temptations and desires that they should just ignore, and may sometimes need help getting over. I believe that neither of these (and others I'm sure you've come across) are a good way to understand gay feelings at all. The only way that I can see it, and have used to explain it to my friends, is that it's exactly like the feelings they have for boys (or for girls if they are my straight guy friends). The only difference is who those feelings are for. If it's the same, think how hard it would be to be told that you have to be with, and marry, the gender that you're not attracted to. Most of my friends say that they don't think they could do it, or at least not be happy doing it. I've found it helps people be able to put themselves in shoes they never thought they could. Being willing to see things from someone else's point of view is the key to understanding and finding compassion, and that's for any situation, whether that be one's sexuality, religion, culture, politics, personality or just general way of reacting to life (this goes both ways). The point is loving people, even if we may never understand them.

~Bridey J

They're Everywhere!

Anyone who follows me on Facebook (you bunch of creepers) knows that a few weeks ago I had the very unfortunate experience of reading the opinion column in the Daily Universe (BYU newspaper). The columnists had decided to write in response to the New York gay marriage law going through. I'll post it here, not to get all riled up again (that may or may not be another post for another day), but for context for anyone that has no idea what I'm talking about:http://universe.byu.edu/index.php/2011/06/27/that-is-not-a-family/

It really upset me. For one, it just showed ignorance and narrow mindedness. Also because the next day they only posted letters to the editor that agreed with her, leaving me feeling that all those opposed were not given the chance to make it manifest. I just didn't like that so many are quick to try and put their opinions on others. I knew that in the past my reaction would have been very different. I would have been scared, seeing the the article as the opinion of all BYU students and equating it to saying I was a bad person. I'll admit this would have only been made easier due to my ridiculously low self esteem at the time and the already deeply held belief that if I were to admit the truth (being a lesbian) to anyone, they would get the torches and pitchforks and run me out of Provo. (thoughts may have been exaggerated to illustrate the depth of my fear and self hatred). Now I know better, about both myself and the people around me. However, I'm sure that there are others who are at the stage in their process that I once was, and I worried.

I got the idea in my head that if I went and talked with her in person that she might gain some understanding, even if it was only the slightest bit more than she had before. Well, it did not go down the way I had hoped at all. A few minutes into it I could already tell that she was not the least bit interested in understanding or listening to anything I had to say. Luckily, my roommate (who later wrote a kick ass response to the article) came with me and stopped it before it got worse.

Before this sounds like I'm just ranting, I'll bring in my actual point of this post. My whole life the idea of loving people and acting on that has come so easy to me. My experience with being lesbian and learning to accept and love myself for everything I am has opened my mind and heart even more, which I am so grateful for. Sometimes it's hard for me to really understand why people wouldn't want to try and understand or love one another. Then I remember that other people don't actually think the same way I do, or have not been through things in their lives that might force them to really take a look at something outside their own bubbles. This really brought me down for a while. It was this reminder that no matter how much I accept myself and others, there will always be people who won't.

That being said I would like to tell you that there will always be people who will accept you and love you for everything you are. A friend once told me that even if they don't understand, if they love you they will try. This past week or so events have brought to my attention, not just all the people who currently are in my life and making it wonderful, but also the people who have been or have yet to be but are willing to step up and help me through anything. I am very fortunate to have these people who love and support me. It has taken me a long time to find them, but I am constantly reminded that these kind of people are all around. Look for them, you might be surprised by people sometimes.

~Bridey J

Hope and Meaning

I don't claim to dispense great words of wisdom. Ever. I'm not even sure if anyone reads my posts and walks away better for it. I know I used to search the internet for anything that would let me know that there was hope. I would dig through pages of blogs to find people who were like me (gay, and very rarely Mormon too) that had ended up happy, and stronger. At the time it was all I could do from giving up. I've come a really long way since then...but then again that wasn't very long ago either.

I read something earlier this year while preparing a short talk. It was about a man named Viktor Frankl, who was a psychiatrist and concentration camp survivor. Many psychiatrists believe that human beings can not handle very much pain, which is why we develop psychological ways to compensate and survive. Viktor, however, saw that people could withstand and push through great amounts of pain if they could find meaning in their suffering. He saw it was the prisoners who came to believe that the bleakness around them was all there was ever going to be...those who lost hope...that were the ones who broke down, got sick and died much faster. He believed very strongly that "...even the helpless victim of a hopeless situation, facing a fate he can not change, may rise above himself, may grow beyond himself, and by so doing change himself...changing a personal tragedy into a triumph".

Much of the time the only thing that could keep me going was to think that there was some reason for this messed up life of mine. I always fantasized that maybe someday I could find and help somebody going through this same thing and keep them from feeling alone and hopeless like I did. I have yet to do this (directly anyway). Some days I still get discouraged, left feeling like I've helped no one, and it was all pointless. I've only recently been able to recognize what I havedone. I've had lots of roommates and friends who probably would have never had the issue of homosexuality come up in their lives if they had not met me. I think the fact that I have allowed people to help me through this has opened doors of understanding and compassion. In this way accepting their service has been service to them. This is the greatest meaning there can possibly be in life.

This is why I write to you...whoever you turn out to be. Don't give up Hope. You will find meaning.

~Bridey J

Support System

Much apologies for forgetting last Monday. To make up for it this one will be a bit of a long read. Also mostly because I've had words in my brain all week and want to get it out there.

So this past two weeks or so I've been having very real and frank conversations with lots of people. Most of these were with my roommates and close friends, but I'm slowly branching out to family. That may seem kinda backwards for some people, or so I've been told before. Many a councilor and church leader who I've discussed my sexuality and depression with have asked if I have a support group of sorts. Not like a group that meets every week called 'Lesbians Anonymous' or something, but people I talk to and that know the situation I'm in. When I would say yes, it was always followed with the apparently unsatisfactory answer of the names of my close friends. Every one of them, without fail, said that that wasn't good enough...I needed to tell my family. This always made me scared and angry and all sorts of other things. "Don't you understand? I can't tell my family". The idea was so scary to me. Family would always be there, which is why they make a much stronger support, but it's also why I didn't want them to know. If they reacted badly and didn't care to understand then that would be the relationship I would be stuck with for the rest of my life. I interacted with my friends on a more regular basis, especially since coming to college and having them as roommates and such. In my mind it seemed like the people who I was around more would be the better choice to tell.

It's taken me years to understand this was not the right idea. I would even go so far as to say it didn't really click until this last weekend. I understand now that since high school I've been trying to find someone that could be my support. Someone who would be there to lean on no matter what, and knew everything I was going through...and would be a constant in my life. I could never understand why I couldn't find someone who could be that for me. I really tried. I stretched myself to the breaking point, and others as well, trying to make them into something they couldn't be. I wanted consistency and unconditional love that wasn't their job to provide. I needed my family.

Slowly I told them, starting with my brothers. I got more understanding than I ever thought I would get from them (on this particular issue). I felt so much closer to them over this one thing, because I had shut myself off from them before. We don't really talk about my being gay, but I don't feel like I have to hide myself from them anymore. They can be a part of ALL of my life now. My parents are a little different story. They've really known since about my freshman year in college, but I never actually said anything and came out until this last Christmas. We never talk about it. It feels like this topic is no longer on the table. It feels almost just as bad as not telling them was. I feel cut off, and hidden. It makes me feel like it's still a part of me that I'm supposed to be ashamed of. And I know that I shouldn't expect instant understanding. I didn't even have that for myself when I came out to myself. It's taken me seven years to get to where I am today, being truly okay with myself and loving me for it.

This weekend I had a small wake up call from a good friend of mine. She reminded me that while friends are great to have, and coming out to random strangers is fun and a bit relieving, it's really the important people in my life who I should be talking to. I'm not saying that friends can't be good support or important people (but probably not the strangers at Walmart). I really don't know how I could have gotten through a lot of life without my friends. I'm just saying that I realized that I need my family. I need them to be my support. I need them to know, even if they don't quite understand. These people are the most important people in my life and I want them to know who I am and what I go through. Being lesbian is a reality of my life that is always going to be there, as will my religion (Mormon), experiences, and my family. I will always have these parts of me because they shape who I am.

I am generally a big believer of talking about things. I would always rather talk with you and be offended than continue to live in silence. Having kept this part of me a secret for so long I can tell you that in takes a huge amount of energy and strength not to talk about it. It weighs you down everyday that it goes unsaid. I know I've waited a long time for other people to want to talk about it, but I think I need to step up and be the one that starts it. Don't take them for granted. Let the important people in. They may need it as much as you do.

~Bridey J

Never Give Up, Never Surrender!

Forgive my lack of originality today, but this has been stuck in my head all week...I promise I explain why at the bottom.

by Dee Groberg

The Race

"Quit, give up, you're beaten!"
They shout at me and plead.
"There's just too much against you now.
This time you can't succeed."

And as I start to hang my head
In front of failure's face,
My downward fall is broken by
The memory of a race.

And hope refills my weakened will
As I recall that scene,
For just the thought of that short race
Rejuvenates my being.

A child's race, young boys, young men
How I remember well,
Excitement sure! But also fear.
It wasn't hard to tell.

They all lined up so full of hope
Each thought to win the race,
Or tie for 1st or if not that
At least take 2nd place.

And fathers watched from off the sides
Each cheering for his son,
And each boy hoped to show his Dad
That he would be the one.

The whistle blew and off they went
Young hearts and hopes afire
To win to be the hero there
Was each young boys desire.

And one boy in particular
Whose Dad was in the crowd
Was running near the lead and thought,
"My Dad will be so proud!"

But as he speeded down the field
Across a shallow dip,
The little boy who thought to win
Lost his step and slipped.

Trying hard to catch himself
His hands flew out to brace
And mid the laughter of the crowd
He fell flat on his face.

So down he fell and with him hope
He couldn't win it now...
Embarrassed, sad he only wished
To disappear somehow.

But as he fell his Dad stood up
And showed his anxious face
Which to the boy so clearly said:
"Get up and win the race!"

He quickly rose, no damage done,
Behind a bit, that's all
And ran with all his mind and might
To make up for his fall.

So anxious to restore himself
To catch up and to win.
His mind went faster than his legs
He slipped and fell again.

He wished that he had quit before
With only one disgrace,
"I'm hopeless as a runner now.
I shouldn't try to race."

But in the laughing crowd he searched
And found his Father's face,
That steady look that said again,
"Get up and win the race!"

So up he jumped to try again
Ten yards behind the last,
"If I'm going to gain those yards," he thought
"I've got to move real fast!"

Exerting everything he had
He regained eight or ten,
But trying so hard to catch the lead
He slipped and fell again!

Defeat! He lay there silently
A tear dropped from his eye.
"There's no sense running anymore
Three strikes; I'm out; why try!"

The will to rise had disappeared
All hope had fled away;
So far behind, so error-prone:
A loser all the way.

"I've lost so what's the use?" He thought
"I'll live with my disgrace."
But then he thought about his Dad
Who soon he'd have to face.

"Get up" an echo sounded low
"Get up and take your place,
You were not meant for failure here,
Get up and win the race!"

"With borrowed will, Get up" It said,
"You haven't lost at all,
For winning is no more than this
To rise each time you fall."

So up he rose to run once more
And with a new commit,
He resolved that win or lose
At least he wouldn't quit.

So far behind the others now
The most he'd ever been,
Still he gave it all he had
And ran as though to win.

Three times he'd fallen stumbling
Three times he rose again,
Too far behind to hope to win
He still ran to the end.

They cheered the winning runner
As he crossed the line 1st place,
Head high, and proud and happy
No falling, no disgrace.

But when the fallen youngster
Crossed the line last place,
The crowd gave him the greater cheer
For finishing the race.

And even though he came in last
With head bowed low, unproud,
You would have thought he'd won the race
To listen to the crowd.

And to his Dad he sadly said,
"I didn't do so well,"
"To me you won!" his Father said
"You rose each time you fell."

And now when things seem dark and hard
And difficult to face,
The memory of that little boy
Helps me in my race.

For all of life is like that race
With ups and downs and all,
And all you have to do to win
Is rise each time you fall.

"Quit, Give up, You're beaten."
They still shout in my face,
But another voice within me says,
"Get up and win the race."

I know it's really easy to pick out all the religious symbolism in this, but I hardly ever read it that way. I look at it from a general life perspective. Life is gonna be really hard sometimes. What may not seem a big deal to some may be a mountain to others. Sometimes you're going to fall, have horrible days, weeks, months or years...i don't know. But I really do believe that you need to keep trying. If someone can't get up, help them. If you need help, don't be afraid to ask. I know I've had some days where the only thing I felt I could do was just stay in bed and try again the next morning. This week has also not treated my very kindly. And it gives you that feeling like when you're well and you think you're never sick, but as soon as you're sick the only thing you think is "I have always been sick and will never be well again!" But I really think you only truly fail at life when you stop trying all together. Never give up.

~Bridey J

Friends Can Make the Difference

The last few weeks I've been talking a lot to my roommates. They're amazing girls. I think the thing I like most about them is how they make me feel when I'm around them.

With roommates in the past, the fact that I'm a lesbian was something that everyone skirted around very lightly. I have had a few who would talk about it very openly with me, and most of them remain my friends today. With the majority of them, however, it either became an issue in some way or something we just swept under the rug never to speak of again. Like the big giant glitter-covered rainbow-colored hippo in the bathtub that nobody wants to mention. Sometimes I was grateful for the silence, because it meant they had no plans to grab their torch and pitchforks anytime soon. But mostly I hated it. I hated never talking about it, and more so feeling like I wasn't allowed to. Feeling like everything I did was screaming at them "I like girls!" and so I needed to stop it. They knew the truth, but it felt more like they were trying to pretend it wasn't so. Wishing and hoping that it would go away soon...like I once did. I thought that was getting the good end of the "coming out" process. The fact that no one immediately said "you know you're going to hell, right?" was a huge step for me.

Then I met these girls. If it comes up it's never a big deal. We talk and joke and everything else like it's just another normal part of life. Because it is! I've noticed that it almost feels like it's not this huge thing on everyone's mind anymore. At first I thought it was like before, when people wouldn't really take it seriously. Treating it like it was some other thing that would just go away if left alone. Then I realized it's the opposite. This is a part of life, but no more than the fact that my roommate likes boys. A little different, but nothing to be scared of. It feels amazing to feel good about this part of me, that I don't think I fully accepted because I still felt I had to hide it. Now I don't. I've told other people and have found that it's not really a big deal. Not to make it sound like I'm belittling this part of myself, but the opposite. It's just another part of who I am and people are okay with who I am. And if they're not, I still have people who are and love it.

Don't give up ever. There are people who will love you for every part of you, and they are worth waiting for and finding. Life feels so good when you know you're being your true self and being loved for it.

~Bridey J