#I feel like only other Mormons who struggle with the church would ever understand

[latter-day-gay]

CW: talk of LDS general conference, religious guilt tripping, religious trauma, etc

despite the fact that I’m technically an adult, I’m still basically “forced” to watch conference because I live with family (currently with grandparents in Mexico, other times parents in the US). the result of not watching/refusing would be my family going into a huge panic and crying because they’re scared of me losing my faith/leaving the church (I guess technically valid concerns bc I’m already somewhat entering that general headspace lol). I’m allowed to watch alone which helps but conference genuinely brings me UNFATHOMABLE amounts of stress and there’s no outlet for me to express that without being guilted/it being a Whole Thing. especially living with my grandparents, who have no idea I’m queer and are EXTREMELY faithful to the church, there is no sense of emotional security or personal choice for me. they’re even making me watch the additional evening session. and I’m terrified of sitting through another session where the speakers just say the most heinous shit. idk why I’m even typing this; I suppose it just feels good to get it out of my system. and maybe it will find its way to someone in a similar situation

[queerstake]

As a queer drawn to the faith and trying to deal with the messiness of entering into everything, I've been trying hard to read more of the Book of Mormon because I only have a very vague understanding of it's Whole Deal, but executive dysfunction, ADHD, and honestly, a million other excuses are making it very difficult. Are there any good resources for walking through the fundamentals? Childish but I feel like I'm disappointing the Lord if I'm not more on top of this.

Hi anon! I totally get it and yes, I can think of a few ideas!

If you're looking for ways to understand the BoM (or even just general doctrine) from more of a bird's eye view:

I hope you don't find this silly, but when I was a kid, the church published an illustrated children's version of the BoM that's obviously way quicker to flip through. It might be harder for you to find those exact editions I read as a kid if you don't have ready access to a church library, BUT I found this!! It's (almost) the ENTIRE BoM illustrated and summarized and it's online!

Looks like they put out videos too that summarize the BoM beginning to end. Here's a link to the video series. I haven't seen these, so I can't vouch for them, but they might be helpful! Similarly, there's a BoM in 60 seconds video you might find helpful.

If you'd benefit from a schedule, the church is currently studying the BoM in sunday school! The past few years, we've been using a study guide called Come Follow Me with weekly assigned reading chapters. I've actually been working on posts about CFM as they relate to queer mormon theology, but I haven't had much posted yet since I've been having a rocky start to 2024. As things improve, I'll be able to hopefully even establish a schedule on this blog!

I'm not sure if missionary lessons is something you're interested in at this point, and it's definitely not something you ever need to do, but the missionary lessons themselves are a pretty good doctrine intro if you're looking for just Mormonism 101 in a digestible way. The missionaries teach out a book called Preach My Gospel, which is available right here. You'll be interested in the lessons, which are found in Chapter 3. If you just scroll down, you'll see some of the links are labeled Lesson instead of Chapter--just click on those bad boys. And if you have any doctrinal questions, I'm always MORE than happy to talk about the church! You'll probably get a faster answer DMing me personally at @logans-mormon-blog, but I'll always answer asks here as soon as time permits.

If you're looking for easier ways to finish the BoM from beginning to end:

The BoM on tape. The church has an audiobook version available on the Gospel Library app and other audio apps like Spotify.

The Reader's Edition. If you can get your hand on a reader's edition, a lot of people find this is an easier way to plow through the BoM. What's special about this one is that it's formatted not like scripture but like prose, and it really does change the reading experience!

I don't know if this helps any, but I struggle with some of the same issues as you and I'm always bitterly disappointed when I'm not able to move mountains. If I had my way, I'd be the most well-read scriptorian of all time and this blog would be updated constantly. But life often doesn't shake out that way. I spend way more time than I want to with my brain entirely burned out of my head. So you're not alone, if that's any comfort. I think God gets it--he made our brains, after all, and knows how hard it is to wrestle with. It's easier said than done, but don't beat yourself up. God loves the both of us and he's the most perfectly patient person who's ever lived. He's not frustrated or disappointed with our efforts. Religion exists, in my opinion, to help improve and enrich our lives, not make them more challenging OR even to make them perfect if we only could just run fast enough. I too wish I could be more diligent and on it, but shit happens, right? And we're not on earth to be perfect, we're here to be happy and to learn. When Joseph Smith was translating the BoM, God told him "Do not run faster or labor more than you have strength and means provided to enable you to translate; but be diligent unto the end." D&C 10:4. We're doing our damndest, and that's all God even wants from us.

If anyone else has more resource ideas, please let us know!

-Logan

[wowbright]

Fic: Formed of Clay

Klaine Advent 2021: rhythm

Words: ~550 words

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: At choir rehearsal, Blaine gains a new understanding.

I’m back with more vignettes from my Mormon!Klaine universe for Klaine Advent 2021! This vignette takes place directly after yesterday's post, Family and before My Way Home.

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost.

Notes: I am feeling the repercussions of yesterday's insomnia and also dictated this whole thing, so hopefully the typos aren't too bad. If you have any questions or typo corrections, feel free to use my ask box!

--------

Elder Hummel straightened his tie and clapped his hands. “OK, time to start,” he called out authoritatively. Everyone immediately filed to their places, which Elder Hummel had marked with bits of masking tape on the carpet.

His attention to detail and ability to command people's attention were inspiring. Not inspiring in the sense of making Blaine want to be like him, but inspiring in the sense that a tree or mountain was inspiring—because it was a reminder of the power and tender mercy God used when he created each spirit that would inhabit this world—made it a thing that only it could be.

Blaine sat down at the piano and helped run the choir through warmups, singing along with their scales and their leelooleeloolahs before starting on the songs. He picked out Chandler's voice quickly—not because Chandler was singing too loud or enunciating incorrectly or in any other way trying to draw attention to himself. He wasn't at all, and that was what was so striking about it. It added volume and a richer tone without standing apart from the other voices in his section unless, like Blaine, you were listening for it.

Maybe Blaine was going to have to reassess his view of Chandler, not just out of obedience to Christ’s commandment to love your neighbor, but for more worldly reasons: the assumptions he had made about Chandler didn't appear to line up with the truth.

He gave a quick prayer of thanks for Chandler's contribution to the choir before he could overthink it.

Blaine was comfortable enough with the score by now that he didn't have to look at every note, but could glance back and forth between the music and the choir as he played. Elder Hummel had adopted the U-formation Blaine had suggested, and despite panicking all morning about being able to keep rhythm, hear others, directothers, and sing the right notes all at the same time—despite all those worries, now that he was in the middle of it, he seemed in his element. His arms moved with practiced ease, his shoulders radiating a certainty and calmness that Blaine only ever saw when Elder Hummel was completely focused on the Work. And his face: Blaine could see the pride Elder Hummel felt in the choir, in how fluidly they moved through the sections that had once been such a struggle. His eyes sparkled with it.

Inside himself, Blaine felt the Spirit speaking. Elder Hummel was a creator. He took the rough clay of untrained voices and formed them into heavenly music. He took abandoned pieces of fabric and turned them into clothing that was beautiful and loved. He was taking Blaine’s inchoate spirit and refining it into something more solid, more faithful, more true.

Elder Hummel was a creator. He was so now, had been so before this life began, and would be so when his mortal probation was over.

The church might teach that godhood was reserved only for people like Blaine’s parents who married in the temple and endured its demands to the end. That only those who fit the mold and followed the precepts step by step would become co-creators with Heavenly Father in the life to come.

But the Spirit told Blaine otherwise. Only a fool would keep Elder Hummel’s talents out of heaven. And God was no fool.

[bogkeep]

hmmmmmmmmmm maybe i’ll write an Introspective Musing Post about my relationship to religion and their depiction in stories because i’ve pondering about this topic lately

so for those who are reading this and DON’T know what’s been going on...  there’s this webcomic i fell in love with some years ago, about six years actually, that depicts a post-apocalyptic fantasy/horror adventure set in the nordic countries. it had, and has still, some very uncomfortable flaws regarding racial representation, and the creator has historically not dealt very well with criticism towards it. it’s a whole Thing. my relationship with this comic has fluctuated a lot, since there are a lot of elements in it i DO love and i still feel very nostalgic about, and like idk i felt like i trust my skills in critical thinking enough to keep reading. aaand then the creator went a teensy bit off the deep end created a whole minicomic which is like... a lukewarm social media dystopia where christians are oppressed (and also everyone is a cute bunny, including our lord and saviour jesus christ). which is already tonedeaf enough considering there are religious people who DO get prosecuted for their faith, like, that’s an actual reality for a lot of people - but as far as i can tell, usually not christians. and then there’s an afterword that’s like, “anyway i got recently converted and realized i’m a disgusting human being full of sin who doesn’t deserve redemption but jesus loves me so i’ll be fine!! remember to repent for your sins xoxo” and a bunch of other stuff and IT’S KIND OF REALLY CONCERNING i have, uh, been habitually looking at the reactions to and discussions around this, maybe it’s not very self care of me but there’s a lot of overwhelming things rn and it’s fantastically distracting, yknow? like, overall this situation is fairly reminiscent of the whole jkr thing. creator of a series that is Fairly Beloved, does something hurtful, handles backlash in a weird way, a lot of people start taking distance from Beloved Series or find ways to enjoy it on their own terms, creator later reveals to have been fully radicalized and releases a whole manifesto, and any and all criticism gets framed as harassment and proving them right. of course, one of them is a super rich person with a LOT of media power and a topic that is a lot more destructive in our current zeitgeist, and the other is an independent webcomic creator, so it’s  not the same situation. just similar vibez ya feel as a result of this, i have been Thinking. and just this feels like some sort of defeat like god dammit she got me i AM thinking about the topic she wrote about!!! i should dismiss the whole thing!!! but thinking about topics is probably a good thing so hey lets go. me, i’m agnostic. i understand that this is a ‘lazy’ position to take, but it’s what works for me. i simply do not vibe with organized religion, personally. (i had the wikipedia page for ‘chaos magic’ open in a tab for several weeks, if that helps.) i was raised by atheists in a majorly atheist culture. christian atheist, i should specify. norway has been mostly and historically lutheran, and religion has usually been a private and personal thing. it turns out the teacher i had in 7th grade was mormon, but i ONLY found out because he showed up in a tv series discussing religious groups in norway later, and he was honestly one of the best teachers i have ever had - he reignited the whole class’ interest in science, math, and dungeons and dragons. it was a real “wait WHAT” moment for my teenage self. i think i was briefly converted to christianity by my friend when i was like 7, who grew up in a christian family (i visited them a couple times and always forgot they do prayers before dinner. oops!), but like, she ALSO made me believe she was the guardian of a secret magic orb that controls the entire world and if i told anybody the world would burn down in 3 seconds. i only suspected something was off when one day the Orb ran on batteries, and another day the Orb had to be plugged in to charge. in my defense i really wanted to be part of a cool fantasy plot. i had no idea how to be a christian beyond “uuuuh believe in god i guess” so it just faded away on its own. when i met this friend several years later, she was no longer christian. i think every childhood friend of mine who grew up in a christian family, was no longer christian when they grew up. most notably my closest internet friend whose family was catholic - she had several siblings, and each of them took a wildly different path, from hippie treehugger to laveyan satanist or something in that area. (i joined them for a sermon in a church when they visited my town. my phone went off during it because i had forgotten to silence it. oops!) ((i also really liked their mother’s interpretation of purgatory. she explained it as a bath, not fire. i like that.)) i have never had any personal negative experiences with christianity, despite being openly queer/gay/trans. the only time someone has directly told me i’m going to hell was some guy who saw me wearing a hoodie on norway’s constitution day. yeah i still remember that you bastard i’ve sworn to be spiteful about it till the day i die!! i’ve actually had much more insufferable interactions with the obnoxious kind of atheists - like yes yes i agree with you on a lot but that doesn’t diminish your ability to be an absolute hypocrite, it turns out? i remember going to see the movie ‘noah’ with a friend who had recently discovered reddit atheism and it was just really exhausting to discuss it with her. one of these Obnoxious Atheists is my Own Mother. which is a little strange, honestly, because she LOVES visiting churches for the Aesthetic and Architecture. we cannot go anywhere without having to stop by a pretty church to Admire and Explore. I’VE BEEN IN SO MANY CHURCHES FOR AN ATHEIST RAISED NON-CHRISTIAN. i’ve been to the vatican TWICE (i genuinely don’t even know how much of my extended family is christian. up north in the tiny village i come from, i believe my uncle is the churchkeeper, and it’s the only building in the area that did not get burnt down by the the nazis during ww2 - mostly because soldiers needed a place to sleep. still don’t know whether or not said uncle believes or not, because hey, it’s Personal) i think my biggest personal relationship to religion, and christianity specifically, has been academic. yeah, we learned a brief synopsis of world religions at school (and i remember the class used to be called ‘christianity, religion, and ethics’ and got changed to ‘religion, beliefs, and ethics’ which is cool. it was probably a big discourse but i was a teen who didnt care), but also my bachelor degree is in art history, specifically western art history because it’s a vast sprawling topic and they had to distill it as best they could SIGHS. western art history is deeply entangled with the history of the church, and i think the most i’ve ever learnt about christianity is through these classes (one of my professors wrote an article about how jesus can be interpreted as queer which i Deeply Appreciate). i also specifically tried to diversify my academic input by picking classes such as ‘depiction of muslims and jewish people in western medieval art’ and ‘art and religion’ when i was an exchange student in canada, along with 101 classes in anthropology and archaeology. because i think human diversity and culture is very cool and i want to absorb that knowledge as best as i can. i think my exchange semester in canada was the most religiously diverse space have ever been in, to be honest. now as an adult i have more christian friends again, but friends who chose it for themselves, and who practice in ways that sound good and healthy, like a place of solace and community for them. the vast majority of my friends are queer too, yknow?? i’ve known too many people who have seen these identities as fated opposites, but they aren’t, they’re just parts of who people are. it’s like... i genuinely love people having their faiths and beliefs so much. i love people finding that space where they belong and feel safe in. i love people having communities and heritages and connections. i deeply respect and admire opening up that space for faith within any other communities, like... if i’m going to listen to a podcast about scepticism and cults, i am not going to listen to it if it’s just an excuse to bash religion. i think the search for truth needs to be compassionate, always. you can acknowledge that crystals are cool and make people happy AND that multi level marketing schemes are deeply harmful and prey on people in vulnerable situaitons. YOU KNOW???? so now’s when i bring up Apocalypse Comic again. one of the things i really did like about it was, ironically, how it handled religion. in its setting, people have returned to old gods, and their magic drew power from their religion. characters from different regions had different beliefs and sources. in the first arc, they meet the spirit of a lutheran pastor, who ends up helping them with her powers. it was treated as, in the creators own words, ‘just another mythology’. and honestly? i love that. it was one of the nicest depictions i’ve seen of christianity in fiction, and as something that could coexist with other faiths. I Vibe With That. and then, uh, then... bunny dystopia comic. it just... it just straight up tells you christianity is literally the only way to..?? be a good person??? i guess?? i’m still kind of struggling to parse what exactly it wanted to say. the evil social media overlord bird tells you the bible makes you a DANGEROUS FREETHINKER, but the comic also treats rewriting the bible or finding your own way to faith as something,, Bad. The Bible Must Remain Unsullied. Never Criticize The Bible. also, doing good things just for social media clout is bad and selfish. you should do good things so you don’t burn in hell instead. is that the message? it reads a lot like the comic creator already had the idea for the comic, but only got the urge to make it after she was converted and needed to spread the good word. you do you i guess!! i understand that she’s new to this and probably Going Through Something, and this is just a step on her journey. but the absolute self-loathing she described in her afterword... it does not sound good. i’m just some agnostic kid so what do i know, but i do not think that kind of self-flagellating is a kind faith to have for yourself. i might not ever have been properly religious, but you know what i AM familiar with? a brain wired for ocd and intrusive thoughts. for a lot of my life i’ve struggled with my own kind of purity complex. i’ve had this really strange sensitivity for things that felt ‘tainted’. i’ve experienced having to remove more and more words from my vocabulary because they were Bad and i did not want to sully my sentences. it stacked, too - if a word turned out to be an euphemism for something, i could never feel comfortable saying it again. i still struggle a bit with these things, but i have confronted these things within myself. i’ve had to make myself comfortable with imperfection and ‘tainted’ things and accept that these are just, arbitrary categories my mind made up. maybe that’s the reason i can’t do organized religion even if i found one that fit for me - just like diets can trigger disordered eating, i think it would carve some bad brainpaths for me. so yeah i’m worried i guess! i’m worried when people think it’s so good that she finally found the correct faith even if it’s causing all this self-hate. is there really not a better way? or are they just trusting she’ll find it? and yeah it’s none of my concern, it’s like, i worry for jkr too but i do not want her within miles of my trans self thANKS. so like, i DO enjoy media that explores faith and what it means for you. my favourite band is the oh hellos, which DOES draw on faith and the songwriter’s experience with it. because of my religious iliteracy most of it has flown over my head for years and i’m like “oh hey this is gay” and then only later realize it was about god all along Probably. i like what they’ve done with the place. also, stormlight archive - i had NO idea sanderson was mormon, the way he writes his characters, many of whom actively discuss religion and their relationship to it. i love that about the books, honestly. Media That Explores Religion In A Complex And Compassionate Way... we like that i’ve been thinking about my own stories too, and how i might want to explore faith in them. most of my settings are based on magic and it’s like, what role does religion have in a world where gods are real and makes u magic. in sparrow spellcaster’s story, xe creates? summons? an old god - brings them to life out of the idea of them. it’s a story about hubris, mostly. then there’s iphimery, the story where i am actively fleshing out a pantheon. there’s no doubt the gods are real in the fantasy version of iphimery, they are the source of magic and sustain themselves on slivers of humanity in exchange. but in the modern version, where they are mostly forgotten? that’s some room for me to explore, i think. especially the character of timian, who comes from a smaller town and moves to a large and diverse city. in the fantasy story, the guardian deity chooses his sister as a vessel. in the modern setting, that does not happen, and i don’t yet know what does, but i really want timian to be someone who struggles with his identity - his faith, his sexuality, the expectations cast upon him by his hometown... i’m sure it’s a cliché story retold through a million gay characters but i want to do it too okay. i want to see him carve out his own way of existing within the world because i care him and want to see him thrive!!! alrighty i THINK that’s all i wanted to write. thanks if you read all of this, and if you didn’t that’s super cool have a nice day !

[nerdygaymormon]

Interviewed by 2 Seventies

Background

This weekend my stake is getting a new stake presidency. It’s been interesting to view the process from behind the scenes.

A few weeks ago a list of everyone to be interviewed was sent to the stake president--bishops, members of the high council, current counselors in the stake presidency, the stake clerk and the stake executive secretary. They asked if there’s anyone else the stake president would recommend adding to the list. 

Then each of those individuals was sent a brief set of questions asking about their current & previous callings, their occupation, and their family. As the stake executive secretary, I was asked to arrange the interview schedule, giving 6 minutes for each interviewee. The idea is that the Lord knows who is to be the next stake president and just needs to make it known. I commented that this seems like speed dating.

We had 2 Seventy assigned to this stake conference. One is Elder Kevin S. Hamilton, he’s a General Authority Seventy, the other is Elder Douglas B. Carter, he’s an Area Authority Seventy, meaning he lives somewhere nearby, works his regular job during the week and has Church assignments on the weekend. 

We learned only a few days ago that the General Authority Seventy in Salt Lake are not traveling. They continue to meet in council with the Apostles & First Presidency, so to limit the chance of them being exposed to COVID and bringing it to the councils, they are not traveling. 

So our setup for the interview was Elder Hamilton on a laptop by Zoom and Elder Carter sitting behind the desk. 

————————————————————

The Interview

"Brother Doyle, this says you don't have a wife and you've never been married, is this correct?" 

My reply was, "I'll save you from having to ask 20 questions. I'm gay and being in the Church means certain avenues are closed to me."

“When did you come out?” 

“I consider I officially came out a decade ago, but I was just telling individuals, not making a big announcement, but in 2017 I had a blog post go viral that outed me to everyone.”

They proceeded to ask some hard, probing questions. I doubt they asked similar types questions of the others. Wanting to know if I ever was inactive (there were times I wanted to but I had a Mormon boss or landlord or other reason that made not going to church tricky), did I grow up in the Church (yes), have you always abided by the Law of Chastity (I’m not exactly sure how to answer this, what exactly is it you want to know, while in this calling I have dated some people but I know where the line is about chastity that would require me to be released and I’m careful about that, and also, I haven’t dated for a while).

They asked me if I have a temple recommend (yes), are you worthy (I answered “yes,” but shouldn’t my answer about the recommend have satisfied this question). Do I go to the temple often? (this last question is the only one that Elder Carter asked, all the rest were asked by Elder Hamilton)

When I responded that although I keep a current recommend, I don't usually go to the temple except to support others. There's things at the temple that are hard for me. They asked what about the temple would be hard? "Well, it talks about it's not good for man to be alone, it talks about having joy in our creation." "Oh, I can understand that."

At that point their body language softened and relaxed, they started smiling, and began asking me questions about how I feel about my calling (I felt God asked me to do a work among LGBT members, and when I agreed, He put me in this calling, which is interesting that doing this calling's work opened the way for me to do the other work), how do I help other LGBT members, what have I learned from my stake president? 

They thanked me for sharing that I struggle and do my best and carry on.

As they were wrapping up, the General Authority Seventy said he's confident God will work everything out for me. My response was I hope so, but those are easy words to say and harder to keep faith in.” He acknowledged that he doesn't know the future, but he has faith God will bless me.

Elder Hamilton can tell I’m impacting people, thanked me for being visible,  and said if he was here in person that he'd give me a hug.

————————————————————

Their Comment to the Stake President

After they'd met with everyone, the two Seventy spent some time in conversation with each other, then asked the soon-to-be-released stake president to meet with them, I believe to get his perspectives on certain individuals and if there's background information they should be aware of.

After he exited the office and the 2 Seventy resumed conferring with each other, he told me that when he walked in and closed the door, the first thing they said was, "Well, the most interesting interview was with your executive secretary."

He replied, "I bet it was. I've instructed him to be candid with me and I trust he was candid with you."

"Oh yes, he was candid. As we talked with him, we grew to like him."

————————————————————

Commentary

Even now after all these years, it takes bravery to be LGBT in this Church and deal with these kinds of things. And sometimes it is very wearying, too. 

Today felt like 2 different interviews back-to-back. They were tough on me in the first half. Maybe they were just curious and wanting to learn, but it feels very vulnerable to be asked those sorts of questions in rapid fire that could be interpreted as accusatory. 

I think because these types of interviews to find the next stake president are done under very tight time limits, that's why they just asked question after question, but it was rough to be on the receiving end of those questions in that first half of the interview.

Our stories have power, if they’re willing to listen. Being in proximity is important to spurring change. I know it's unusual for them to come to a stake and run into someone like me, and I've helped them understand better. 

I’m very proud of my stake president for immediately sticking up for me when he said, “I’ve instructed him to be candid with me and I trust he was with you.” 

[spookymultimedia]

ITS MY BLOG AND I GET TO INFODUMP ABOUT MY CHARACTERS >:D

Disability and gender experience

CW for ptsd, panic attacks, su*c*de [I will talk about at the end if you still want to read this and will add another warning] , gender dysphoria, mild transpobia and abelism both internal and external

Disability

Lyla has osteoarthritis that is due to Burns' pretty fucky genes. She found this out when one evening they literally couldn't get out of bed for anything due to intense pain in the knees. Waylon had to come and get them and when he got there Lyla was pretty much on the brink of tears. Lyla then got a diagnosis. At first she was frustrated because it changed everything about his daily life. He was prescribed pain medication that dulls the pain to a manageable degree and was recommended to use a cane to get around during mild flare ups. It initially upset her. He thought she was too young to be going through something like that and hated having to limit how much they work. They later realized that stigma was ableist and bullshit and eventually sucked it up and decided to just embrace his new way of life and let her Grandfather help him learn how to cope due to experience with chronic pain [which means its lifelong] . On some days they get around just fine with pain meds but on bad flare up days they have to use a cane or chair to get around. She eventually mastered working with the aids and can even pop a sick wheelie on his chair. The pain still gets to them and it really sucks but he does swallow his pride and allow themselves to rest and be supported by others.

Sometimes with her partner Ashley he'll get snuggled and taken care of by her. Lyla is pretty dang light like his grandfather and Ashley has no problem carrying him around. Lyla secretly loves being carried. He's pretty fucking privileged to have Mr.Burns allow her disability support. Lyla is very privileged. Sometimes they like to make his cane/chair look cool with spray paint and whatnot. Very cripplepunk. Lyla probably found a disabled community of people his age to help her feel less alone.

Abbey has undiagnosed innatentive type adhd and ptsd that she gets full on panic attacks from. Neurodiversity was something taboo and not talked about in her childhood and didn't even realize she was struggling more than she should be. As a child she struggled paying attention to long boring sermons/lectures and was shamed alot for it. She didn't understand how she occasionally made people uncomfortable with very weird and unconventional topics she talks about. Loud sudden stimuli and intense buzzing overwhelms her and can make her cry. She didn't do very well in school and barely graduated high school. She prefered watching her favorite movies and playing dolls with her sister over studying. She's extremely sensitive to fabric and only has certain types of blankets and clothes that she can stand. She absolutely hates the feeling of fabric draping against her legs too much so sometimes she either wears tight-ish pants and avoids skirts/dresses. She hates sitting and walking in dresses. She never wanted to wear them lol they feel bad to her. She refuses to sit up straight and will cross her legs. Abbey hyperfixates on animation, cinema, and dollhouses. She likes binging movies and making doll projects. She tends to bond with people through movies and model making. She struggled to make friends outside of her circle and just stayed friends with people she grew up with at her church. They all escaped that mormon hell. Abbey struggles with her emotions and usually gets overwhelmed too much which can often leave her drained and tired. She has an intense oral fixation and uses stim necklaces to chew on, before she would chew on her sleeves, pen caps, pens, her hair, her shirt, her sleeves, bottle caps, ect. She was a very curious kid and tried to eat playdough, dirt and grass lol. None of them where good. She is decent at working at the video store and feels happy with her job being related to her interests. Because hrt therapy is so expensive she doesn't feel she can afford any kind of therapy or medication and it's very overwhelming for her to have to prioritize one aspect of her health over another. But with financial support from close friends and her boyfriend Tim she gets by ok.

Gender

Lyla assumed that it was completely normal to have a fuzzy fluid gender due to believing gender is a lose concept for most people. He didn't realize most people have static genders that don't change at all. It wasn't something they never questioned. Later in Lyla's 20s they started to learn more on gender and realized she wasn't as cis as he thought they where. The term genderfluid fit his experiences perfectly. They never felt still in their gender. Even if they felt more towards one gender over another it wasn't a firm feeling. It felt fluid and lose. As a teen they dressed in goth fashion and was a self proclaimed tomboy. But they realized tomboys or most gnc women didn't dress up very feminine on somedays or even wear dresses. She loves wearing dresses and she loves wearing lose jeans and a lose men's tee.

Lyla's gender tends to shift weekly but it may present or change depending on who they're with or what media/environment they're exposed too. For example he might feel more feminine with certain friends and more masculine with strangers. Sometimes they feel more comfortable being agender or a nonbinary genders with certain people such as their partner. Sometimes they only use certain pronouns with certain people. He/she/they at work, she/he with parents, she/he/they/it with siblings, she/he with some friends, and she/he/moths/rots, rats, its with their partner. Lyla will either tell people upfront on pronouns for the week or use a pin.

Most of the time clothes don't dictate their gender that week but there are some key differences. Lyla will not wear dresses on more masculine days and may draw on facial hair with a mascara brush. On more feminine days they dress more like a nature witch and loves floral stuff. They are more likely to have fun with makeup on those days.

Lyla doesn't want to undergo any kind of surgery or hormone therapy. Lyla may bind a bit with a sports bra but doesn't really feel uncomfortable with his chest and mostly doesn't mind having visibile tits on masc days.

Abbey always felt different from her birth sex and felt very frustrated learning she wouldn't just naturally grow into the chest and genitals she wants growing up. It was an extremely taboo and forbidden subject but despite that something inside her soul knew she was a girl. Her parents pushed very strict gender roles on her growing up and causes her to struggle with her femininity as an infertile woman who could not stand dresses. It made her feel a bit lost but she later felt better knowing other women cis and trans who don't conform to gender roles.

Abbey gets intense physical dysphoria from her crotch and for a long time she had to just deal with it until surgery was an option. Some days she could tolerate it but some days [especially when she got on estrogen and felt very hormonal] it was unbearable and a wet dream or boner would trigger a depressive episode that consists of cacooning a cover, watching her favorite movies and long naps. It was a toll on her mental health that was already pretty bad. But emotional support, understanding and patience from her friends and boyfriend helped her carry on though it. She eventually does get bottom surgery and it's a HUGE weight off her chest.

Abbey usually dresses in sweatshirts, graphic tees and cute jeans. Whatever's comfortable on the skin. She wore tank tops more when her tits grew in. And they grew in pretty dang fast and big and ah it hurt. She's a c cup which she loves but God they where tender for awhile. Double puberty isn't fun. Her transition was a bit rough and long being low middle class but she pulled through.

TW for su*cide. Leave the post now if this triggers you.

Abbey is a suicide attempt survivor. She suffers ptsd from her own husband taking his life leaving her a widow. She felt trapped and tired in her unbalanced emotions and uncertainty of ever feeling okay or getting the medical attention she needed and attempted to OD. Fortunately she was with Timothy who immediately called an ambulance. She was very tired and at first a bit disappointed she was still alive but also a bit relieved. She then had to cope with feeling suicidal.

[alexthepartyman]

When I’m Saved (Part 2)

“The press looks horrendous,” Agent Jareau says, looking out towards the front of the hotel as the team exits their SUVs. “Ah, Lieutenant Kim.” 

“Agent Jareau. Rossi, Reid, Prentiss. Where are Hotchner and Morgan?”

“They retired. These are Agents Simmons, Alvez, and Section Chief Cruz. We have an Agent in Peyton with Dmitri’s father,” Agent Prentiss answers. “How is the group coping?”

“We should get inside.” The lieutenant says, escorting the team into the hotel’s back entrance. “The hotel has been placed on lockdown, only law enforcement is coming and going. We’ve questioned all of the kids and the chaperones. Some of the kids are devastated, some are pleased that Dmitri is gone. The kids are in their respective rooms, and the chaperones are in the Monterey ballroom. The girls are in Room 407 with the colour guard staff and two chaperones, officers have been stationed outside the room.” 

“Pleased?”

“Dmitri isn’t so well accepted outside of his friends. One of the kids in his grade claims Dmitri broke his nose, and other kids have backed up the story. Dmitri has also been the subject of a few harassment incidents in school. Here is a list of people that know Dmitri the best.” Section Chief Cruz takes the list and scans over it.

“How is Mr and Mrs Tremblay taking this?”

“Mrs Tremblay hasn’t had much of a reaction. Mr Tremblay is angry about everything, but has cooperated. The colour guard staff, Dmitri’s direct coaches, are taking it very hard.” 

“How is the colour guard taking it?”

“Most are sad, confused, angry. Some of them don’t see Dmitri favourably. One is exclusively regarding to Dmitri as Rhys.” 

“One of them was a next-door neighbour?”

“Yes, LeAnne Owens. Dmitri was a friend of hers before they moved away into a neighbourhood that suited their Mormon beliefs more.” 

“Religion? Peyton’s separated by religion?” Agent Prentiss asks. 

“The town is mostly Mormon, a church on nearly every block in the downtown area. Those who aren’t Mormon aren’t treated very well once the others find out, apparently. Dmitri has been shunned for a few years, most kids only interact with him during group projects.” 

“They probably took advantage of him because of his intellect,” Dr Reid comments. “Dmitri’s IQ is apparently one hundred and eighty seven. Autistic individuals tend to be more excluded by their peers and have troubles relating to neurotypical peers. The other kids would likely not understand how he functions and behaves, and he would struggle to maintain friendships. He would likely just think they were being his friends and not be able to see that other people were manipulating him to get what they wanted.” 

“Our command center is in the La Paz ballroom. We have five officers monitoring the tip lines, and the media has been running broadcasts since one am.”

“What have the media been saying?” Agent Jareau asks. 

“We told them that Dmitri disappeared, and that anyone who might have seen what happened to him should call the hotline. We haven’t confirmed or denied that Dmitri was abducted, but it’s starting to look like that’s what happened. Park search came up empty, we issued an Amber Alert for Los Angeles and the neighbouring counties around three am, stressing that Dmitri’s health is fragile. Free coffee in the lobby, but warning, it’s as bad as our station coffee.”

“Matt, Reid, go up to Room 407,” Agent Prentiss says. “Ask very specifically about what happened last night and our unsubs. Ask them if Diego or Jacob could have taken Dmitri. The adults may not know about what happened, so tread carefully. Luke, you and Rossi should go to the Monterey ballroom and talk with the Tremblays, Mrs Mellencamp, Mrs Kilburn, and any other chaperones that interacted with Dmitri yesterday. JJ, Cruz, and I will set up in the command center, touch bases with PG and Tara. We’ll text you any new information that comes in. Mobiles on. Head out.” 

“Sanchez. Escort Agent Simmons and Dr Reid up to Room 407,” Lieutenant Kim says, stopping a passing officer in his tracks. “BAU. They’re going to question the kids.” 

“Of course. There’s only one functioning elevator in this hotel, but staircases in every corner. Come with me.” The buff Asian and the pipe cleaner with eyes break off from the group, heading back towards the nearest staircase.

“Only one elevator?” Agent Jareau asks as the team follows the lieutenant towards the lobby. 

“Yes, only one. If they couldn’t grab the elevator, the kids would drag their things up the staircases. There wasn’t much comment on Dmitri’s mobility, but Mrs Kilburn did share with us a picture of Dmitri in the Main Street USA parade.” Agent Prentiss squints at the picture and takes a picture of it with her phone. “What is it?”

“Look at the way his left hand grabs the pole vs how the others in the picture are holding the pole, and how his smile droops on the left side of his face.”

“What does that mean?”

“The right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, it looks like that’s where he took the most damage. Look at those transition lenses.” Agent Alvez points to the glasses in the picture. “Those would hide a drooping left eye.” 

“This is the Monterey ballroom,” Lieutenant Kim announces, pushing the door to the conference room open. Agents Alvez and Rossi nod and pass through the door, closing it behind them. 

“Excuse me,” Agent Rossi asks, approaching another officer. “We’re with the FBI, and we’re looking for John and Amy Tremblay.” The officer points towards an older, balding man and an older woman with red hair holding his hand at a table. “Thank you.” The Italian Stallion and the buff, steaming mug of hot cocoa then head to the table, Agent Rossi sitting across from the couple. “Mr and Mrs Tremblay, we’re Agents Rossi and Alvez with the FBI. We’re a few of the agents helping to find Dmitri.”

“FBI?” A woman with dark curly hair asks, ending her hushed conversation with a woman with red curly hair.

“Yes, ma’am, FBI. We have a few questions about Dmitri. The more we can understand about his behaviour, the more we can figure out what happened to him and how to help him. Who might you be, ma’am?” 

“I’m Jill Mellencamp. I assist with band finances and keep all the records. This is Connie Hiratsu, she’s one of the chaperones.”

“When did you last see Dmitri?”

“Nine pm. He was with his friends, leaving Splash Mountain,” Mr Tremblay answers. 

“What was he wearing?”

“Our grey shirts we gave the kids, rainbow shoes. A rainbow bowtie, rainbow ears.”

“Interesting attire. Do you know of anybody Dmitri would know here in Los Angeles? Did he tell you he was meeting up with anybody?”

“No,” Mr Tremblay answers, his piecing blue eyes beaming through the agent in front of him.

“Has he ever been caught speaking to strangers?”

“This one time, last year, I had found him after our halftime performance, and a tall man was holding him while he was crying. I separated them and had our drum major and seniors watch over Dmitri. He did not tell me why he was upset or who the man was.”

“He knows better than to talk to strangers. He’s in high school, he knows the rules,” Connie argues. 

“Connie. He’s hurting right now. Arguing about it isn’t going to help him.” 

“Are you guys going to tell them how much trouble he is?” She retorts. 

“Connie-”

“He threw a water bottle, had a tantrum, and screamed at me, like he was a toddler. Was I supposed to just let him represent our school and organisation poorly? Other people might think we’re snobs if they saw that-”

“Mrs Hiratsu. What exactly was happening?” 

“He was upset, and he threw a water bottle at the ground, and I told him that high schoolers don’t throw things, and he wouldn’t calm down or tell me what was going on. He was throwing a tantrum-”

“Connie. Loud noises and crowds stress Dmitri out. He was freaking out because he didn’t have his ticket into the park and he couldn’t find Ressa Kilburn, so I had him go through the security checkpoint with me and my family, and afterwards, he ran away, but he came back to the group after a few minutes. Mrs Anderson told us she went to talk to him.”

“He aimed it at the ground or at someone?” Agent Alvez asks. 

“At the ground, but it shouldn’t matter. He was acting out of line.” 

“Mrs Hiratsu, Dmitri has autism, and he gets overwhelmed and shuts down. Now when he shuts down, he might be aggressive or defensive, throwing things or screaming,” Agent Alvez replies. “Him aiming the bottle at the ground is better than if he aimed it at a person. It means that he is semi-aware of his surroundings in his state, and he is empathetic and doesn’t want to disrupt things.”

“Then why would he do that?”

“He doesn’t want to do it, but he just does. He probably feels embarrassed that he reacts like that.” 

“He is rather empathetic. If you raise your voice at him, he’ll think you’re mad at him, and then it takes forever for him to get that you’re not mad at him. He always thinks Jill and I are mad at him.” 

“How is he, socially? Does he get along well with the other kids?”

“No, he’s always closed off from the others. Most people don’t even realise he’s there.”

“If he had his way, he’d be in the corner with his music and his notebook,” Mrs Tremblay adds.

“We try to get him to participate with others, but he always just does his own thing. Jill, you’re also involved with the musical theatre program, and you interact with Dmitri there.” 

“Yes, I do, but he’s practically the same way. He gets really embarrassed to have to talk in front of other kids, just almost shuts down, he starts stammering and stuttering and panicking.” 

“He wouldn’t tell anyone if there was something wrong.” 

“Exactly. Nick, Lily, and Arthur have better luck getting him out of his shell, but he still doesn’t ask for help unless you start the conversation. I can see it when it’s just the guard, but I don’t know how to explain it. He laughs more, smiles more with them. Nick and Lily tell me that he actually reaches out to the new guard kids, which is unheard of.” 

“Could any of you tell us how Dmitri changed after his last concussion, three weeks ago?” Agent Alvez asks. 

“He smiles more, laughs more, asks more questions. He’s definitely more outspoken, but he falls asleep everywhere. I don’t know how he falls asleep on the school bus seats, but he does.”

“I caught him sleeping in the doorway one morning during musical theatre class. He’ll just take little naps during class. He seems to be a lot dizzier, falls a lot more.” 

“Yes. He falls when he laughs, and since he laughs at everything now, he always falls. He’s been walking around with hoods up, headphones on, using the walls as supports.” 

“Do his eyes glaze over? Does he eat enough to compensate for the high activity levels? We noticed he’s smaller than most.” 

“The nosebleed. Do you think that was anything serious?” 

“He acted like it was,” Connie asks. 

“A nosebleed?”

“He bled out all over the boys’ bathroom once, and it took half an hour to get him to stop bleeding. He was accepting the sugar we provided him, but he freaked out once we mentioned afrin, wouldn’t let us give it to him, he thought we were going to give him aspirin. He couldn’t figure out what was happening to him, and he was texting his grandparents.” 

“Okay, okay.” The four adults fall silent, appearing to hold a lifetime back. “Thank you. We’ll come back if we have any more questions.”

[nickpaterson]

How my religion taught me to hate

I grew up in a religious family, with Anglican roots.  My mother joined a small growing church group, which developed into one of the largest Baptist churches on Vancouver Island.  We were part of this same church family from the time I was 4 years old. Now in my 40s, my mother still attends the same group.   I am proud that our family was part of and still is part of this growing group that dopes a lot of good and outreach locally in her community.  I value relationships and advice from many members of this congregation.

               During the troubles of my teenage years, members of this group reach out to me to provide guidance when I was lost, to be supportive when I needed it, and to give advice.  One of the most influential people from this church weas my pastor, Mark Buchanan.  He was a little man who more often was in board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt with sandals, instead of a stuffy suit.  I loved watching him break the norms, and make people uncomfortable, to make them think about why they felt this way.  He would walk quietly to the stage, and this big booking voice would get your attention.  He put feeling into his speech, and he challenged traditional ideas, kept you rapt to everything he said, made us laugh and cry, and made sure we understood why we did things.  Mark also wrote a book called “Your God is too safe”.  I still have my autographed copy of the book as well as a spare handed down from my mom.  Admittedly, I never read the whole thing, but the title alone caught my attention, and made me want to research more and break the norms to make sure what I thought was right, instead of just safe and familiar.  

               My mother always gave me ideas to make me think. She told me from a young age to make sure I knew what I believed, and to know why, and that she would support me in those choices as long as I could support my argument with logic and faith. She may not have exercised this as much as she would like, making sure I went to church without fail, even when I didn’t want to, and being less than willing to explore alternate churches.  But the idea and the sentiment were there, and they stuck with me throughout my life.

               On my own as an adult, I spent a lot of time talking to people of different faiths, and asking questions about how, why, what for, history of, and more.  I learned a lot about different denominations and faiths, alternate religions, alternate deities, wicca and witchcraft, natural beliefs and more.  Some were fascinating ideas, some were fantasy style stories that kept the attention but not the faith, and some made me incredibly uncomfortable to the point I avoided them in further research.  But nothing fit. So, I stuck to what was safe and familiar, not knowing how or why to believe anything else.  

               In all my research over the years, some ideas stuck and made it into my daily practice, because they meshed with what I read in my bible, and my interpretation of Jesus love and teachings, even if I didn’t see them in practice elsewhere.  Because I spent so much time talking to people of different backgrounds, I had a lot of friends who didn’t believe in the same things I did. My biggest takeaway from all of this was acceptance.  They didn’t believe in my god, or read my bible, but they answered my questions, and taught me, without judging even if I didn’t accept what they taught.  We debated respectfully back and forth and taught each other whatever we could.  Nobody was judged, or ostracised, or ridiculed for those beliefs.  We made for a pretty hodgepodge group.  

I had Jehovas Witnesses try to convert me.  I had coffee and visited with Mormons.  I head my cards and stars and palms read by Wiccans.  I attended Buddhist weddings in a haunted church at the stroke of midnight on Halloween.  I went to church with United, nondenominational, Anglican and more services.  I saw people speak in tongues, and believe they were performing healing prayers.  I even attended a country revival by a river and marched in an anti abortion silent protest.  I spent countless hours debating, and researching to reinforce my debates when I got stuck, and learning different viewpoints.  

               But I accepted everyone regardless of background. I asked questions that may have been ignorant from simply not knowing. I interrupted classes and speeches and took notes.  I stayed open to new ideas, and only asked from others what I would be willing to do myself, such as attending each others services to learn from a different viewpoint. The biggest lesson I ever learned in life was that nobody was lesser because they believed something different, or practiced on a different day, or used a different word for God.  I wasn’t better than them, or right or wrong.  I condemned no one that I could learn from, and hoped that I could teach them some of the same.

               I learned many things I don’t want to be a part of. I learned how I didn’t want to be treated or spoken to.  I learned what people could blame on their religion, and how awful you could be made to feel in the name of the Holy.  I saw some awful bigotry and hate, both in and out of churches. I made decisions that would shape who I have become.  I also learned that no matter who they prayed to or when, or how, the crazy truth of it is:  Almost everybody preached the same thing with a few small differences, while they condemned everyone else who disagreed.

               I even saw this within my own family.  For example, one of my nephews has recently chosen to express himself as transgender.  So he becomes She.  My sister, his mother, chose to support this in the best possible way.  I asked questions like “What name do I use and when” and tried to express the parts I didn’t understand, and learn the rest.  I let this child teach me whats he needed and I have tried to support her as best as possible.  My children followed my example and made me proud.  Come Christmas a couple years later, and our religious mother is visiting from the west, and expressing her opinions.  She wanted to take my sisters child to a counsellor to get fixed, behind my sisters back, and hoped that I would help.  I said no unconditionally. I found out that my older sister had heard our mother venting about this issues, and ripped into her with her opinion that Mom should stay the hell out of it.  I do love that our family is at a stage in life where we can be blunt and rational as we discussed this, since a couple days before Christmas we were throwing around religious and opinion thoughts on the subject.  I got to look at my mother and say “to be honest, your opinion doesn’t fucking matter, since it’s not your child to raise”. My mom looked shocked and started to be offended, but then realised it was not calling her out or insulting her, and that it was correct.  Then I also got to point out to her that at the very least, she should be proud that she raised three children as a single mother, who could all grow into such loving and accepting people that none of us judged or condemned anyone regardless of their way of life or choices.  This is again a very abridged version of this whole conversation, but you get the general idea.  

               One of the biggest wakeup moments that came in my life regarding religion and peoples attitudes towards it came from a church I attended for a while.  After over a year of getting to know people and following their teachings, it came that I would be moving to another city.  I mentioned to a few nice older folks what city I would be going to, and received a few recommendations on a church to look out for.  One particular gentleman, who always went out of his way to speak to myself and my children, and who I believe was an Elder at the church to be respected, gave me this recommendation.  I paraphrase: “You should check out Church A.  They have this and this and would love a new family with plenty of kids. And you wouldn’t have to worry about any of those fags and weird shit.”

               I knew right then that I would never check out his recommendation, and that I would never return to this church.  I have spent time since then really listening extra close to sermons and messages put out by other churches and church leaders, and looking for the nuances and lessons they teach to their youth.  Everything is put forth as support “You can make your choices within your faith”, Pro life, we will support you when you choose Gods way, and so very many more.  Look up newsletters and ads from your local churches and you will see all of these and more in many different wordings.

               Look a layer deeper.  Listen to what these messages say.  “we will support you in gods path, but believe different and you are alone”. “you are evil for choosing different”.  You will go to hell for eternity. Our way is the only way and everybody else is wrong.  Its very thinly veiled, but every church I’ve been to is secretly teaching me to hate those that are different and hoping that I don’t notice.  

               Hate gay people because they don’t follow the bible. Hate abortionists for not supporting this fetus regardless of health or history or any other option.  Our way is the ONLY way.  You cannot be different.  You cannot think your own way.  We can’t prove it except through vague scripture and ask for blind faith because we said so.  You are evil if you disagree.  Don’t look different or act different.  Judge others and condemn them for having an opinion. See a theme here? You can see this in all those local church and religious flyers too.  Just go have a look, I’ll wait here.

                 Here’s what I learned in Sunday school as I see it. Choose to follow and consider my opinion, or don’t.  Your call!

               -The Old testament is a history lesson.  Here is what God wants you to do and why.  Here is what is good and bad, and here is the struggle we went through to get here.  Exactly the same as our kids learning about war and holocaust and local history in school.  Learn the lessons because people already went through them and get the theory behind the fact.

               -The New testament changed everything.  We no longer had to sacrifice because Jesus did it for us. Unclean foods didn’t matter because we were purified in faith. Sinful acts could be forgiven if we asked for it.  Love everybody as you wish to be loved.  Look at the Good Samaritan, he helped a neighbour he should have hated because that’s what he was taught, but he chose to be a good person anyways, regardless of who was on the receiving end.  Jesus spent time with beggars, and the terminally sick, prostitutes, and men who had no other ambition in life.  He loved them all the same and he gave them the same message, regardless of their background, or choices, or personal opinions.  He didn’t ever treat one person as lesser than the next.

               The church teaches us to HATE sinfulness in their interpretation, and to shun those who are different or to try and change them to our own way of thinking.  I don’t care what church you go to, it will teach the same.  Look at these similarities between religions..  Catholicism, Christians of various denominations, jewish, jehovas witness, Mormon, 7th day Adventists, Islamic, Buddhist, even Native cultures.  On a base level, the stories handed down through history are very similar, slightly changed through translation and retelling over time.  The morals of the stories are the same.  Every different denomination of Christianity has the same base teachings and the same roots.  They simply split off because one group within that religion disagreed on a base idea, split off, and taught in their own way.  Now 2 thousand years later, we have Baptists and Pentecostals and Lutherans and Anglicans, and more, all telling us that everybody else is wrong.

               So who’s right?   Only each of us can decide that for ourselves.  Look at all the common base lessons and live your life to the best of your ability.  Follow Jesus teachings, whether you believe he was a man or a prophet, or the son of god, and love your neighbour unconditionally.  Decide where you stand on all the slight differences of opinion. It’s all on your and your choice. But stop spreading hate!

               Hate destroys everything that religions of all sorts teach.  Hate turns religious peoples into conquerers, terrorists, feuding families, and multiple warring factions.  Hate causes pain to those on the receiving end, and stress to those on the giving end. There is no possible positive side to hate.  

               I chose to avoid churches in general for the last few years because I could not handle listening to the hate, and finding the worst possible bigots and liars within the walls of the churches, pretending to be good people on Sunday mornings so other people would look up to them.  One day a week does not get you into the kingdom of heaven.  A band I listened to said it the best way possible when I was a teenager, but even though I always remembered it, I never understood it.  “The greatest single cause of Atheism today are those that praise Him with their words, then walk out the door and deny Him by their lifestyle.”  - DC Talk -What if I stumble

               Stop living hate when you preach love. Practice the words that come out of your mouth, and truly love your neighbour.  His religion, color of skin, gender identity, or relationship status should have no bearing on what kind of person they are.  You don’t have to LIKE everyone, or spend time with people you don’t mesh with, but you have no right to judge those that have never done a thing to harm you.  

               Hate the lies of the church teachings, hate the bigotry, Love the man or woman you see in front of you.  We are all fighting for the same thing: to wake up each morning, and enjoy our lives in the best way we know how. Hate in any form robs us from this enjoyment of life.  You don’t have to believe in God or the Bible to live a good life and be good to others. You only have to have faith in humanity, and making this a good place for everyone to enjoy.  Be excellent to each other.

               Hate is Baggage.  Life is too short to be pissed off all the time. Its just not worth it. – American History X.

[woodedcove]

Let Us Not Shrink

1992 was a terrible year for me. Within ten months both my parents died, I was laid off from my job, I became very ill and I found out that I had two incurable autoimmune diseases (Crohn’s Disease and Ankylosing Spondylitis, a form of arthritis) that I would have to live with for the rest of my life. Oh, and my truck died. It was the icing on the cake.

My doctor prescribed Prednisone. It was one of the very few medicines they had at the time to treat people who had these diseases. The only problem was some of the side effects could be very severe. Among them were the rare side effects of mental confusion and psychosis. Unfortunately, these were the ones I experienced.  It started with not being able to concentrate and feeling depressed. The quality of my animation work went downhill. When I arrived home from work I would go back out and walk five miles every day just to level out my mood and clear my head. I complained about the side effects I was experiencing to my doctor but he didn’t want to take me off the medicine. So I continued to take it and the side effects continued to get worse. By the time I was taken off prednisone, I was near catatonic. The doctor had to hold my head in place to keep it from drifting off to the side and a voice told me to tell the doctor I was hearing voices. I remember the event as if I were not inside my body. I was only vaguely aware of how frightened the doctor looked. He immediately threw me into a hospital and placed me on antipsychotic medication, (the kind they give to those suffering from schizophrenia), while they tapered me off of the Prednisone. 

The first night in the hospital I suffered from hallucinations of some invisible creature placing pressure on my chest and trying to squeeze the breath out of me. The only way I could stop the feeling was to turn on the light and read the scriptures.  Long term use of Prednisone stops your adrenal glands from functioning so as I came off of the medication and my adrenal glands started functioning again I began to suffer from debilitating panic attacks. I remember when I returned to work I was so overwhelmed by the regular stress of my job that I would roll myself into a little ball in a corner of my cubicle and shake. It was only later when someone described drug withdrawal to me that I made the connection and understood that my coming off Prednisone was the same kind of experience. My reaction to Prednisone had been so severe that my doctor sent me to have an MRI done to make sure I didn't have late-onset schizophrenia. The test came out negative. But from the time my adrenal glands started functioning again I have had to live with an elevated level of anxiety and depression. 

There were other problems as well. I couldn't focus. What I had learned about animation seemed to have disappeared and I felt as though I had to learn how to animate all over again. I had a terrible time reading. It took at least a year for me to be able to read the scriptures, retain and comprehend anything in them again. It took even longer for me to trust that I could receive answers from my Heavenly Father. The experience made me feel more alone than I ever had felt in all my life. I couldn’t feel the Spirit and I couldn’t feel my Savior’s love. I remember crying one night as I wondered how I would ever find my way back to God when I couldn’t feel His Spirit. 

As I slowly recovered from the devastation this drug had reaped upon my mind, all the things that I had not fully grieved for before I was placed on Prednisone came back to me and I experienced them all, the loss of parents, the loss of work, and the loss of health as if they had happened in one day. On one particularly dark day, I remember sitting on my bed with my Dad's gun in hand. I had inherited it after he died. It had occurred to me that I could end all the suffering I was going through with just one bullet. That thought scared me so much that I took the clip out of the gun, walked out to the huge community garbage dumpster, and threw the gun inside. 

That experience was and remains to be, the most horrible experience I have had in my life, yet throughout this trial, I continued to turn to God. For a while, I wondered why I had to go through it all. But when I began teaching I started to see what that experience had given me. I could recognize in my students the various emotional struggles they were going through. I could tell when a student was suffering from depression or anxiety. It was easier for the Lord to show me why a student was struggling. I even recognized the signs of schizophrenia in a couple of students because I had been there. I knew what it was like. So many of the experiences college students go through I had experienced first hand, and this was just one more experience I had been given to help prepare me to teach. It was horrible and it was hard but it gave me a set of unique tools that helped me work with my students in a way that I would not have been able to do before the Prednisone experience.

Years ago, Neal A. Maxwell, a man who was an Apostle in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, was diagnosed with Leukemia. For 46 days and nights, he endured debilitating chemotherapy which left him weak and fatigued. When he asked the Lord why he was going through this trial the answer he received was simple. The Lord told him, “I have given you Leukemia so that you can teach my people with authenticity.” And when he was later asked what lessons he had learned through this trial of having Leukemia. His answer was "I have learned that not shrinking is more important than surviving."

Just before the Lord gave his magnificent Atonement, He prayed that the cup Heavenly Father was offering Him might be removed. Then He did something that most of us still find impossible to understand. Without a word of complaint, or insisting on knowing why He humbly bowed to His Father's will. "Nevertheless not my will, but thine be done." (Luke 22:42) Knowing that what He was going to go through would be so hard that it would cause him to be "sore amazed" (Mark 14:33) and to "tremble because of pain and to bleed at every pore" (Doctrine and Covenants 19:18) our Savior chose to submit to the will of the Father, trusting His Father, more than Himself, to know what was going to be best for Him. as well as all mankind. When our Savior understood that this was the path the Father had for Him to travel, He moved forward and completed the Atonement for all mankind.

In the Book of Mormon, Alma 7: 11-12 it says:  

“And he (Christ) shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.

“And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.”

I am willing to bet that there are going to be a lot of people that will look back on 2020 and say "that was a terrible year". There is fear and anger caused by the coronavirus, and Covid-19, the new disease that plagues our friends, neighbors, and loved ones. Jobs have been lost because of the pandemic and homes are in jeopardy of foreclosure. There is racial unrest, economic upheaval, and injustice all around us. And then there are the personal trials that seek to tear our very souls apart. But I can also say, from my own experience, that if we are willing to turn to our Heavenly Father, there will be a day when healing will take place, meaning will be given to suffering, what was lost will be found and wisdom will grow out of grief. So let us not shrink. Let us move forward with faith in our Father in Heaven and His knowledge of us and what we need. Let us not murmur but sing praises to Him all the day long for His wisdom is greater than anything man knows our trails will be consecrated for our gain and we will be cleansed and become worthy through the great Atonement of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

[jackednephi]

Hey! I'm hoping that this isn't bothering you too much, but I was wondering why you were so upset at exmormons reblogging and commenting on posts. I think that so long as it's not hateful or demeaning, then it should be fine if people with similar backgrounds relate to something in different ways? My point is that I'm not certain what is wrong, and as an exmo who is still quite tied to the church, I feel somewhat hurt. Please explain (if u have the time)! Thank you Vann!!

oh it’s because of the exmormons i’ve run into!

i’m on desktop (for once) so there’s a cut for the extended explanation

OVERHWLEMINGLY it’s been the same recycled garbage over and over and over again

youre brainwashed

youre in a cult

the church is super toxic

how can you believe in god

joseph smith was a con man (we learn about this) and a convicted criminal (we also learn this too)

the holy ghost is fake

the book of mormon is a lie

some other combo of the above

and it’s awful! i’m sick of it! i am absolutely sick to death of people browbeating me with this garbage. i’ve had it hammered into me by people who aren’t members but the worst are ex members. well and truly

those particular posts i had reblogged, they reblogged from a source i’ve seen do this. i’ve also had my positivity posts tagged as #apostate #exmo etc when like no? me talking about my struggles with my faith and trying to find a place for me in this deeply flawed organization isn’t me going “throw the baby out with the bathwater” and to have them reblogged and told “you’re right! we should burn down everything!” when no? that’s not what i meant or wanted? get off my stuff?

like i have NO PROBLEM with people who don’t believe. just like do it away from me? my best friend is a former catholic (now pagan) who firmly believes i’m in a cult. she believes in her heart of hearts i’m but a poor, brainwashed fool in need of rescue. but she also respects that i do not see my situation this way especially as i continue to choose to act how i do and has not once ever voiced this opinion to me out of respect for myself. i, in turn, have not tried to slip her lds reading because she has the right to believe as she does and she is definitely not interested. she has straight up lost friendships because other members have just refused to respect her boundaries

i also know the OPs of those particular posts. they have expressed in the past they are deeply uncomfortable with exmormons coming onto their posts and making it all about “fuck the church, actually” and don’t always have the spoons to tell people to get lost. i know a lot of my friends just hit block and go but that doesn’t solve the problem of these posts being reblogged in this way

no, i don’t have a problem specifically with former members in general. hell, my father was excommunicated for an affair years ago. he was a former member for a period of time (eventually did what he needed to to come back) but he did fall into this category. during this time, he didn’t go all “burn the witch” about it. and that’s what i’m saying

if you guys want to reblog these? fine. trigger tag them. fine. have #religion or #lds or #mormon and even putting #not currently but i was previously (or something similar) but don’t put #apostate and other tom fuckery. that’s ABSOLUTELY rude and uncalled for. you don’t reblog posts about catholicism by catholics and what they go through with crap about them going to hell or being blasphemers or whatever to be asshats to them. obviously not! it’s rude!

not to mention, for me at least, it’s damn triggering! even though i stopped going to church for a few years, i still kept my faith. i clung deeply to my faith. i have experiences i cannot explain any other way except through my faith that i also cannot deny. to do so would be not only to lie but to betray a part of myself. when i posted about it just. the flood. at one point i had to forego any and all internet except for school email for over a week it got so bad

that’s why i was like “hey get off this post” or “don’t clown on this post” because it’s a very specific phenomenon that is horrifically prevalent. ex members no longer tar and feather current members but that doesn’t make this hurt any less real even if it is different. and it hurts deeply for someone to call me an apostate because i’d just cold deck like half the general authorities if ever presented the opportunity

for me though exmo/exmormon is a specific kind of former member whereas former member is more of a general term. kind of like how all squares are rectangles but not all rectangles are squares. in general, i have no problem with rectangles (former members) by and large but squares (exmos) are just the worst. does that make sense?

but like you seem pretty chill. you seem like the kind of former member i have no problem with. that’s going to sound like “you’re the exception to my rule” but no no. it’s more like assholes are the exception to my “be chill with everyone” rule. i ascribe to the “do no harm but take no shit” philosophy. thus why i’m willing to just. throw hands. with anyone

that said, i didn’t mean to cause hurt with my stance of “go all the way away from me” and i apologize since that’s how i came across. i hope you understand me better now and why i feel the way i do. i’m so deeply tired of “you should come to church with me” because people are convinced i’m like brainwashed and feel like they personally have to be the person to rescue me. or for exmos to scream about how like fake heathen stuff happens in the temple. it’s so exhausting yknow

anyway feel free to send me asks and messages anytime. i always reply to things even if they take me months. i currently have one sitting in my drafts about being polyamorous i’ve been giving slow, careful thought towards

[viampythonissam]

Intro, continued...

It was then I became obsessed with death and the occult, desperately trying to make contact with my grandfather through anything possible. Being clairaudient, I was expecting to hear a message from my grandfather all throughtout the whole funeral and mourning period, but to no avail. So in my desparation, I went into research, and stumbled upon things such as the ouija, seances, and many more. I even considered dabbling into necromancy, just in order to hear from him again. His death broke me so much that I was for the most time wishing I were dead too. I had suicidal thoughts but somehow something has prevented me from attempting. It could be I'm too chicken to hurt myself (getting hurt by other things besides self-infliction doesn't scare me though) or the thought of my mother crying over my dead body is another thing that would crush my heart.

I started questioning my religious beliefs then. We were Roman Catholics, and we go to church, but not too often. I am very religious though when I was a child, having been schooled in a private Catholic school, and I know all the prayers by heart; but it all changed. I felt resentment for praying so hard but never getting answered. That everything happens for a reason. A reason still so vague to me to this day, which I continue to believe was the same reason of the breaking apart of this family and eventual downfall. The family is in ruins, and the family home is crumbling apart. My father's only brother, my uncle Aldrin, died a little over two years after my grandfather; and his widow and only child, my cousin, was estranged ever since then, because of inheritance issues. My father decided to sell the house, my childhood home because of this; splitting the family fortune already so that we can all go off our separate ways and stop the bickering. The only thing that's keeping him from doing so is my grandmother who is still so attached to the house built by my grandfather.

At 16, I eventually traversed my way into the craft, dabbling on it. There was a kind of pull into these mystics that appealed to someone like me. Was it power? Was it danger? Mystery, perhaps? Or maybe I just got all too familiar with the unknown for me to be comfortable chasing after it? This craft, shunned by my faith since the dawn of time and even killed tons of people because of it, felt like home to me; learning it felt like retracing my steps back from where I came from. There was a sense of calm, relief, and freedom learning the ways of the earth, elements, and spirits and those who came before. Its unrestrictive nature was a stark contrast to the repressive and dominating teachings of the Catholic scriptures. Wherein Christianity demands a million things to do and not to do to save your soul, the craft only ever wanted you to do anything you want, just as long you harm none, even yourself. I have a lot of arguments to make against my old faith, that's why I consider myself an agnostic in all fairness. That's a topic for another day.

When I got to college at 17, I applied for nursing school under my father's wishes. It was in my misfortune to be enrolled in a school with a toxic environment of sorts: unhealthy clinic hours, unreasonable school workload, toxic Christian classmates who bombarded me everyday with bible verses and inviting me to join Sunday worship thingies. I am very respectful of other's beliefs and opinions but I really have a bone to pick with the Born Agains because upon knowing I am interested in dark movies and occult, they've started telling me that the Devil has a grip on my soul and that I should stop it so that my soul can be saved. They're even worse than the Mormons and Witnesses who knock on your door at certain days. I'd just ignore it and they'll go but BAs will stop at nothing to guiltify me of being possessed and that I need deliverance. It was also the time my parents went to Australia for work because of the failing finances due to to my late grandfather's hospital expenses, my uncle meeting his untimely demise, and my uncle's greedy widow who already demanded their inheritance even though my grandmother was still alive. My best friends of highschool also attended different schools and pursued different career pathways which left me feeling more isolated and unsure of myself. These issues fed my undiagnosed depression and relapse of suicidal thoughts all throughout my 4 years in nursing school. It was a mix of emotions, a rollercoaster ride of disappointments, achievements, first-time experiences, full independence. All without a proper support system. Nevertheless, I grew wiser while treading the craft, and for the first time since I lost my grandfather, I felt safe and sound and complete.

Then I met my elementary school sweetheart again in my final year and we became a couple. He was a sweet guy, smart and responsible. We had our similarities, our quirks, but we also had differences. I was already quite a learned witch, studying tarot and palmistry as my supposed-to-be expertise, when he told me how he wanted to be baptised as a Born Again (he and his family are Roman Catholics as well). He told me how he was deeply affected by the one time he went to a worship service of his friend's church. This struck a chord in me, a subtle reference to my beliefs. At the time, I have fully believed he is the man I'm gonna settle for, the one I'm gonna marry. He's everything I have hoped for then: he's finished school, on his way to a very decent career on a ship as a marine engineer. He's from a good family as well. Well-mannered, and not to mention that we've got a pretty long history way back when we we're 10 or so. He even made a subtle proposal of a civil marriage before he hops on board the ship. I know it was betrayal of myself, but I love this man so much so, I am ready to submit myself to him.

Worst decision of my life. I started to try and mingle with Christians so I may understand just why I needed to be saved. I joined worship services and sang with them against my own beliefs. I taught myself to be like them just so I could fit in, so that I may have friends. In return, they've burned all my books and tarot decks. Even my Slipknot t-shirt that my grandmother bought me was not spared from the Christian pyre. Said that it's to release me from the grip of the Devil. They even did deliverance to me. For a while I thought I was given a new lease on life and that this is the only right thing to do. I was easily convinced since it was the most trying time of my life so far: I was killing myself reviewing for the nursing licensure exams, my parents are already coming to get us and live away in Australia for good, my bf and I hit rock bottom and broke up (the girl who is the 3rd party confessed to me that they're having an affair, and that she was so guilty she can't sleep at night knowing we are good friends and they're doing this behind my back, also I've noticed red flags about him that made me doubt him a bit. I factored everything and the dots connected like a damn constellation so I've called it quits), and I was caught in an identity crisis because of inner turmoil. Maybe it was a time of personal upheaval and the mix of situations was too much for me to handle. Maybe it was a good thing though that I never got baptised because my life just got much more complicated after that.

So I did pass the licensures, ex and I never got together again, I went to live to Australia, but I never recovered from the inner turmoil thing; which made me spiral down again the depression lane, this time in its dangerous, ugliest and darkest recesses. I was fighting with my parents which I never did before, I was angry all the time. I started drinking then and I was exhausted all the time I just want to sleep. All the activities I've enjoyed before like sketching, playing the piano, afternoon strolls, and cooking for the family, I've totally lost interest in. My health deteriorated and I cut off and isolated myself from my friends overseas, ignoring their messages and emails. I tried to cope up by immersing myself in Christian songs and scriptures but it was not enough. I was still empty and numb. I was like a zombie, waking up just enough not to get late for work, then go home after, eat unhealthily, play video games, chug a bottle or two of beer, surf the net for worthless and trivial things, and sleep very late, like around 3 to 5 am, only to wake up again a few hours later for work. This was a vicious daily cycle that went on for 4 years. The only reprieve I had was my video games, and my sombre playlist, just enough to block the deafening screams of suicidal thoughts and ideations before I go to sleep. There was also a time I was going home from my internship waiting for the train home, that I thought of just jumping on the train tracks to end the struggle and pain. I was more than ready to attempt as I felt braver now. That was the time I lost all fear for death. Hell, I was ready to buy a rope at Bunnings too as well. But at the back of my head, the same sad picture of my mother crying over my dead body stops me from doing such thing. They said the deliverance was supposed to stop these things, but guess what? It was it that brought it back. It was supposed to keep the demons away, but it did the opposite, and felt so trapped in a cage of deceit and lies. I was supposed to be saved, but why did it felt like I was dying?

It was then I pondered over everything that's happened in my life so far. Where did I fall, where did I stand tall, where did I pick myself up? I thought long and hard enough and decided to start off where it began to crumble: back home. Retracing my steps back to Manila, now 25, I found my old stuff in my old room, before things happened. It reminded me of my simple life and my freedom and innocence. Back when I had complete control of my life. Back when I was the master of my fate. I let the people around me convince me that the man from the sky take the wheel, and it damn well crashed. A head-on collision with a destructive force. I decided to go back to my roots, the one where I felt best. And embracing it tighter than ever and promising to never betray it anymore for any reason.

My ex is now preparing to marry his girlfriend of 3 years. We met accidentally and forgave him already. I'm happy for him and that hopefully his happiness continue on. My old friends are still my friends, but there's already a notable gap between which I do not intend to close at all anymore. I do have new friends now and I keep a healthy distance from them whilst making a worthwhile connection. I am now preparing to enter med school in August and become a surgeon someday. The old house is in shambles, and I realized that a house is not a home, but the family that lives in it. I miss my parents and that my family will always come first, but I am happy to be more independent now and live by myself while studying medicine. Things are well between me and my cousin (my late uncle's child) and that I have forgiven his mother already for the hurt and trouble that they caused us. We see each other as he visits me and grandmother here at the old house every 2 months. When BAs, Mormons, and other religions try to do bible study to me, I am now assertive to tell them that I am agnostic and that I am firm in my beliefs. I am now recovering from my self-destructive ways and more optimistic and living healthier. Love is around, but it felt to me that I have lots to undertake first before I commit myself to someone again. I have backlogged so much that my time has to be devoted to the craft, my family and myself first before anything else. I am trying hard to pick up all the pieces and it seems things are finally going back in its right place. And the craft, after all these years, welcomed me back with open arms without any questions, like a mother does to her child. The sun, moon and the stars never shone brighter before, the day I returned home and answered its longing call.

Now. I have to let this off my chest now once and for all. Pleasure. Why is it a sin to pursue whatever makes you happy? Why must you endure pain just so you can be saved? Isn't that a crooked logic? Why must you be averse to your own will just so you get into a good place in the afterlife? I am only human, I am flawed, but it isn't my fault because I was born and created this way. Why must I be punished for something that is natural for me? If being free and happy costs me a one-way ticket to Hell, then I'd best be off. If my witchcraft, which teaches the opposite of your tyrannic religion, is a surefire way to deliver me there, then I'll make sure I will be a remarkable witch and enjoy my lifetime, and be very ecstatic to march down the fiery highway to Hell after I am gone. But I will never again submit myself to a narcissistic, psychopathic religion who has to kill millions of innocent people, and shun and humiliate people who think in contrast, just to justify and preach the existence of their god and its scriptures. My argument does not end with this and I will not back down anymore in defending my faith.

The craft is my world, and nature is my home. I am a daughter of those who came before, of those who are truly enlightened, of those you can never ever kill. I am a witch, and you can never take that away from me again.

*** Sorry for the long post. Thanks for reading, if you did. I hope you had something to take from my story and may it help you with whatever is botheringvor troubling you right now.

May the journey of life be kind to us all. Blessed be! ❤

[allthebiddiesartur-blog]

Five Characters Lists

Nick

Conceited

" He sold the Bollettieri Academy, because he got himself into debt, and it was the biggest mistake of his life... He says he's not getting paid what he's worth. He says I've been an unsound investment. He's spent hundreds of thousands of dollars developing me, and he's entitled to hundreds and thousands above the hundreds of thousands I've already given him.”

From this example you can tell that Nick thinks very highly of himself. He is brushing Andre to the side telling him that investing in him was a waste of his time and a loss of money. Only someone who thinks money is more important than anything else, would say something as conceited as that

Selfish

- " Part of the problem with my game in 1989 is my racket. I've always used a prince, but Nick has convinced me to sign with a new company, Donnay. Why? Because Nick's got money troubles, and for delivering me to Donnay he gets a lucrative contract for himself."

Nick is not worried about how Andre plays with the racket he’s not comfortable with, he is just in it for the money. Nick’s whole mindset is on the money, he puts it before Andre’s success in the game of tennis, this shows the selfishness in Nick.

Forceful

" Little girl: what a pretty panda! Where did you get it? Andre: we won it. Little girl: what are you going to do with it? Andre: I'm giving it to a friend. Gabriel: the man wants to see you. Andre: I walk slowly, taking my time. I stopped at the door to Nick's office. Nick: he clears his throat. I understand that you were at Busch Gardens yesterday. Did you have fun? Anyway, my daughter apparently has fallen in love with that Panda. Ha ha. She can't stop talking about it. So here's the thing. I'd like to buy that Panda from you. Look, just tell me how much you want for it, Andre. Why don't you write down how much you want for it? How about I give you $200."

Nick will try anything to get Andre to give up the panda he was going to give to Jamie. He pushes even further bribing Andre with $200. Then at the end he convinced Andre into giving up his panda to give to Nick’s daughter

Wendi

Indecisive

“She says we’re too young to make a commitment, too confused. She doesn’t know who she is. She grew up Mormon, then decided she didn’t believe the tenets of that religion. She went to college, then discovered that it was completely wrong for her.”

Wendi is completely lost and confused as to what to do with her life. She never really commits to something and she is quick to give up on it.

Independant

“I can’t be your travelling companion, she says, your sidekick, your fan anymore. Well, I’ll always be your fan, but you know what I mean. She needs to find herself, and to do that she needs to be free.

And so do you, she says, We can't realize our separate goals if we stay together.”

Wendi feels confined in her relationship with Andre. If she is set free from Andre she is able to do whatever she wants with her life and doesn’t have to rely on anyone but herself.

Supportive

" As we walk through the front door of my parents' house, my father meets us at the foyer. He starts right on me. Why didn't you make adjustments after the rain delay? Why didn't you hit backhand? I don't answer. I don't move. I've been expecting his tirade for the last 24 hours and I'm already numb to it. But Wendi isn't. She does something no one's ever done, something I always hoped my mother would do. She throws herself between us. She says, can we just not talk about tennis for two hours? Two hours no tennis."

Wendi understood how stressful a loss is for Andre. When his father harps at him with all of the things he should have done and could have done, she is brave enough to put an end to his father's harsh comments in order to give Andre’s mind a break. All of Andre life his father has been very hard on him and his mother would never come in between them.

Gill

Reliable

“Somewhere up there is a star with your name on it. I might not be able to help you find it, but I’ve got pretty strong shoulders, and you can stand on my shoulders while you’re looking for that star. You hear? For as long as you want. Stand on my shoulders and reach, man. Reach.”

Gil constantly reminds Andre of his value because there are times where Andre forgets what he is capable of. Gil wants Andre to chase his dreams and will be with him every step of the way through the tough and successful times.

Encouraging

“Gil likes to yell at me when I’m working out, but nothing like my father’s yelling. Gil yells love. If I’m trying to set a new personal best, if I’m preparing to lift more than I’ve ever tried, he stands in the background and yells, Come on, Andre! Let’s go! Big Thunder! His yelling makes my heart club against my ribs.”

Gil’s encouraging words is a powerful tool. He uses his encouragement to motivate Andre to becoming the best version and pushes him to his full potential

Protective

“Four guys burst into the restaurant and sit one booth away. They talk and laugh about my hair, my clothes… He (Gil) picks up the man’s burgers and eats half in one bite. Needs ketchup, Gil says, his mouth full. You know what? Now I’m thirsty… Gil takes a long slip, then slowly, almost as slowly as he drives, pours the rest of the soda over the table.”

Not only is he a mentor, Gil acts as a bodyguard. Anyone or anything that cases Andre to have negative feelings, Gil’s first instinct is to protect him.

JP

Approachable

" He simplifies the bible. No ego, no dogma. Just common sense and clear thinking. Parenti is so casual, he doesn't want to be called Pastor Parenti. He says he wants his church to feel unlike a church. He wants it to feel like a home where people gather."

JP is very approachable. Usually with the church a sense of guilt, and pressure is put on you when talking to a priest. In JP’s church he makes all the pressure and guilt disappear. His humble, calm and kind personality lets people know that they can come to him and talk if needed

Selfless

" look, J.P. says, my life is as screwed up as the next guy's. Maybe more. I can't offer much in the way of shepherding. I'm not that kind of pastor. If you're looking for advice, I'm sorry. If you're looking for a friend, that we can do, maybe."

Though J.P. feels that his life is just as messed up as many other people's lives, he is still willing to be a good friend to Andre and offer his services to him. He is not concerned with what he will get out of this friendship and just wants to be there for him when he can be.

Wise

" I lean against the railing, sobbing. J.P. has the decency, the wisdom, to say and do nothing. He knows there is nothing to say, nothing to do, but to wait for this fire to burn out."

At this point Andre is broken up by his loss at the Munich Cup. Instead of J.P. encouraging Andre's sobbing he knows not to say anything because it will make Andre think about the situation and calm down on his own. Sometimes people need to do this on their own so they don't always depend on others.

Philly

Low-Self Esteem

“He pours out his heart, his self-doubts and disappointments. He talks about never winning. He talks about being a born loser.”

Philly is always being compared to his younger brother and how he fails to meet the standards of his father. He starts to believe in his father’s criticism leading to a lack of self-confidence.

Selfless

“I count out $1000 and throw it at my brother. Your cut of the loot.

What? No! Andre, you worked hard for this, bro.

Are you kidding? We worked. Philly, I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Even though they’re both financially struggling, Philly wants Andre to have the money to himself. Philly puts his needs aside because he believes Andre worked hard for it.

Sensible

“Slipping behind him I gently set the ice cream sandwiches on the conveyor belt.

He looks down, then looks at me.

We can’t afford that.

I’ll have this instead of my potato.

He picks up the box, looks at the price, lets out a low whistle. Andre, this cost as much as ten potatoes. We can’t.”

Philly and Andre can only afford ten potatoes to last them a week. Andre is fed up with eating 3 potatoes a day, he tried to sneak in ice cream sandwiches which are not in the budget. Philly understands that the ice cream sandwiches would be delicious to eat however, it will not be beneficial in the long run. He thought ahead that no matter how much he wants the ice cream sandwiches, it is not necessarily what they need to buy in order to survive.

[aroaceslytherin]

WARNING

My family may deny it, but they really are not the greatest. My life has never been the greatest. I have gone through a lot of shit not everyone believes. So I keep quiet and drown myself in music, books, and fandoms to forget everything that has happened, and each song, ship, and fandom has a story to me. I feel like no one wants to listen. My mother does not believe and my father, though he will listen, will not always support it or me. My mother listens as well but it feels toxic. The whole house feels toxic. They love me, yes, but not in a way I had hoped so I actually do not feel loved. I feel relief in other people’s homes and around other people’s moms. It is so hard living in a household where your two step-siblings are related, they have each other, they have always had each other, they have both blood parents, they were never pushed to the side. My step-dad immediately stepped in to care for me, almost acting like he was replacing my father. Or so it looked like it to me. My parents got divorced when I was two, both remarried when I was four, both gave me another sibling at six, my mother and step-dad gave me my second brother when I was eight. Shortly after he was born, maybe around 9-10 years old, my dad divorced my first step-mom. I developed eating disorders, identity crises, a fear of throwing up, and the art of entertaining myself through imaginary friends and talking to myself as a coping mechanism. My first step-mom even hit me once so I now have a flinching habit, no one believes that, our relationship is currently being repaired. My mother forgets things I tell her. When I was 12-13, he married again. They got divorced when I was just nineteen, almost twenty. I got really close to her, she accepted me for who I was, she listened, she was kind and patient, she asked us politely to finish or do something, we were involved in everything, she was my mom. Then all of a sudden the script flipped. She was gone. The house was a shell of what used to be. It was probably the harder one to go through because we connected and she helped repair some things within me. I thought it was finally gonna be it. But it wasn’t. I am almost scared to love now because of these things. I know my dad says he’s not thinking about meeting anyone else, but I can’t accept it. Something inside me won’t let me. I love that our relationship is changing and we are repairing some things, but there is still something there that is making it weird. When I was sixteen, I started talking online with a guy I had a crush on when I was a little kid, maybe around the ages of six to eight. Our first kiss was at eight years old. He was still slightly abusive at just a young age, which is shocking. He was Mormon/LDS and not respectful of my body nor his. He kinda bullied me in the church halls and at school when no was around, but I didn’t realize this until I was older. I could have potentially gotten murdered if we had gone through with a meet-up date. While we were talking, he was manipulative, gas-lighting me, love-bombing me, cheating on me, playing me, and dating/talking to multiple other girls. I dated a girl shortly after we broke up, that lasted about six months. While I was talking to her, I told my guy friend I liked him. As he and I started talking more, I broke up with her. The last I heard from her she was married, they had two kids, and she was happy. I am happy she’s happy and I apologized for dragging her into my mess. I hope she is still doing well. I hope all five of my ex-girlfriends, two ex-boyfriends, those four guys I talked to, and that one non-binary partner are all doing well. I do not know where me and my friend are at right now or what is going to happen when he gets home, but I really hate that I pulled myself into this mess. It really is not all my fault that this all happened, I was broken and confused by someone I thought I could have trusted. He turned around and stabbed me in the back, ripping my heart out of my chest.

It took me two years to forget, but I am still dealing with the after effects - like not being comfortable around boys/men. I put up walls and the only person who managed to pull them down and push past them, was my friend/crush. I tried pushing him away, but he is still around. I am grateful for him, and my other two guy friends and my four female friends. Not only with everything my first ex had done messed me up, but my father, when I was younger, though a great father, had anger issues, depression, and struggled with certain addictions. I remember he punched a hole in a wall close to my crib sometime when I was younger, possibly around Christmas time. No one remembers well. He loved me to no avail, got stories from his mom, but our relationship has always been rocky. This stretch of singleness has been hard for me because although I am happy by myself, I want to see what happens. I no longer look at it as a way of fulfillment… though it is hard to explain, I want to try. I used to want them just because. Because I had been hurt. Because I needed to be shown a real man. To be shown that my body isn’t a toy. That I am not useless. I understand these things, I know these things, I just think I need that confirmation from someone who actually listens, understands, and cares for me. Now that I love myself though, even though at times I still want to leave this world and still struggle with depression, anxiety, PTSD, panic attacks, memories, ADHD, ADD, insomnia, and so many other mental and physical challenges, I am going to be okay with whatever happens between the two of us. Something about the way I was raised and the way my family said things made me afraid to cry, ask questions, ask for help, make my own food without feeling like I was doing something wrong, be okay with eating, etc… I never knew different until I saw the way my crush’s family acted and I always felt left out when these daughters had awesome relationships with their fathers and they showed up to everything. Yes, my dad showed up to things but he missed a lot and was late a lot. I always ended up asking myself, ‘Why me?’ And as I had said, growing up in a household with two siblings who get both blood parents hasn’t been easy either. A huge red flag to my ex should have been when he pushed my baby sister off his bed from the top bunk and held me down so I wouldn’t be able to rescue her. My mother came in to rescue her, but then we were alone again. It is so sickening that when we are younger, this is taught as a way of a boy saying he likes you. No! This is just the start of him becoming a possible abuser! I would say physical touch is more prominent for me, I think it might be because I wasn’t held much by my father or mother when I was younger. He would sit me on the floor with toys and watch me as my mother went out to work. After they separated, she worked a lot so I had my aunts and nannies or babysitters watching me. I still have nightmares, night terrors, and other sleeping problems from this. I also have abandonment issues. I also adore time and words of affirmation… just talking in general. Letting them get to know the deepest parts of me. Pre-school seemed like it was a second home to me, I became the teacher’s pet because my parents worked late and more often just to support us. No one knows I cry at night because I hold it in because on one has ever believed me. It seems like they have forgotten I was bullied in school and church as well. No one seems to know the different types of bullying, abuse, and trauma either. Not unless you go through it. Well, I have gone through many types. And I shouldn’t have had to. I shouldn’t have had this life. But it’s just made me stronger.

[nerdygaymormon]

Sometimes I really hate being Bi. I know know the Church is true and I'll never leave it, but man is it a struggle. I started to think I was Bi on my Mission, and wow, that was scary. Ever since I got home, little over a year ago, I feel like I'm attracted to women more and more and I hate it. (I know I'm Bi and not Lesbian.) I see a cute gal, and I want cuddles and dates, and so many other things, but I can't act on it. (Especially since I'm at BYUI.) Do you have any tips on not hating yourself

Everyone has some things about themselves they don’t like or about which they’re hyper-critical. Often these are about not living up to our ideals, actions we wish we had or hadn’t done, not living up to some societal ideal, about a failure in our life. This is normal and part of being human. 

Queer people in particular must deal with self-hatred that goes beyond just a normal part of being human. We grow up hearing negative messages about people like us and we internalize those messages. And often we have an inner voice that is authoritative and may sound like our parents or religious leaders and thus when it speaks to us, that voice gives those messages extra heft. These things cause us to see ourselves as lesser and to feel shame over our feelings and how we experience life. 

An important part of unraveling this self-loathing is to recognize the negative messages, refute them, and replace them. 

For example, your world won’t end just because you’re bi. Some people may view you differently if they find out, but a lot of people will continue to respect and love you. Perhaps you’ll lose some people, but you will not lose everything and everybody you care about.

That’s recognizing and refuting the negative messages, now let’s replace them. Being bi is a wonderful part of what makes me the person I am and I’m lucky because it brings many important gifts into my life. I can find beauty and love that others miss. 

When you’re at church or school and hear a negative message about queer people, push back against it. You can raise your hand and speak up. If you’re not feeling brave in that moment, it’s okay, and explain to yourself why that comment was wrong and replace it with a positive comment. 

Another thing you may have heard is that being gay or bi is a choice or the result of a lack of faith or some other reason. Fact is that it’s biological and a natural part of this world. This is literally how we’re made. 

Associate with other LGBTQIA people. 

I always feel so much better after I’ve been with other queer people. Being with them helps fight the things I was taught about the queer community, I can see & experience that they are normal people. They are fun, loving, caring, and supportive, exactly the opposite of what I’d been told. You can attend USGA-Rexburg and there’s a new resource center going up in town. 

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints spends quite a bit of time teaching and celebrating early pioneers. It’s quite a legacy and something to be proud of. The same is true of the queer community, we have amazing pioneers. We are a brave people. You have claim to two incredible legacies. Read about some of our queer Mormon heroes of the last decade.

Shame withers in sunshine

If you’re not yet out to friends and family, that’s okay, you have a blog and can write about your experiences and thoughts online. You can also find & connect with other queer Mormons. 

One thing I’ve experienced, which has surprised me is that as I write and post about things of which I was embarrassed, the shame associated with them goes away. By sharing with others, it is no longer a secret that needs to be hidden, but something I’m taking ownership of. 

If you’re awesome on paper, then you’re awesome in person

I used to know that I could write things on paper about myself that would sound great, but I didn’t have positive feelings about them. That person on the paper looked good, but somehow I didn’t have those same feelings about myself. I was the first person in my family to get a college degree, I now have an MBA, I served a mission, I am the favorite uncle in my family, I play the piano, I am kind and trusted and so on. 

Learn to draw boundaries

Often when we don’t feel great about ourselves, we make up for that by seeking the approval of others, more so than is usual or healthy. We end up agreeing to do things we may not want to do just so that we seem agreeable and worthy of their approval, even from people we don’t care about that much. There is power in being able to say “no.” Schedule time to get your school work done, to participate in activities you enjoy, in having time for friends, for contributing to the community. You can agree to spend time helping others with things they want, but protect your boundaries and don’t overstretch yourself. 

Boundaries also are important when it comes to people and messages you associate with. Try to find allies and queer people that you can associate with. Even if you’re not “out,” you can present yourself as an ally and be with people who express positivity about queerness. 

You don’t have to accept everything you hear at church, what church leaders have said, or even all the “doctrine.” Church leaders have been tragically wrong in the past, they are not perfect conveyers of the love of our Heavenly Parents. You don’t have to believe the terrible things taught about LGBTQ people. I know this is easier said than done. It helps if you’ve experienced God’s love for you, or if you’ve thought about how illogical it would be for loving Heavenly Parents to send queer children to earth with no way for them to express who they are or to have happiness. We are supposed to experience joy in this life. 

Take care of your health

When I met with a psychologist because I was suicidal and also wanted help with my internalized homophobia and low-self esteem, the first things we discussed were if I was getting enough sleep, was I eating a healthy diet, was I getting exercise. Our physical well-being contributes to our mental well-being. Sometimes a good cry is what I need to express the feelings I’m having, followed by a nap, then I feel much better. 

Allow for growth and forgiveness

We all learn and change and grow. As others grow in understanding and do better, allow them the grace of forgiveness by recognizing things said by their past selves were said in ignorance and recognize the growth they’ve undergone. This also applies to you and your past self. 

A common exercise that helps is to think of what you would say to someone else in a similar position. So often we speak of love and acceptance and not being hard on themselves, and it’s pretty great advice which we could apply to ourselves. Another exercise is to have a picture of our younger self, or even of just some young person around ages 5~12, and know that they are going to grow up queer, what advice would you give them? You deserve the same compassion, kindness and love that you show to others. 

Growth and change also happens to our faith. Here’s a post where I shared about faith transitions and I found it very helpful in understanding how I experience my faith is different from my family, it’s because we’re in different stages. 

Take pride in trying, not in failure or success

Coming out is freaking hard and takes a lot of courage. Like a lot of things in life, many people attempt to do this and then fail, they back down, the moment feels wrong, they get panicked, or whatever reason. Failure isn’t the worst thing, not trying is. And the more we try, the more successes we’ll eventually have. And once you have some wins under your belt, it gets easier to do those things that were once hard. 

When being bi brings happiness, it’s easier to love this about yourself

For so many people, being queer is only associated with negative things in their life, but when you can start associating it with positive things it becomes easier to accept and love this part of yourself. When you have queer friends, when you have experienced the excitement of a crush on a boy and on a girl, when you go on dates, or someone sends a message that your posts about your feelings really helped them, those positive experiences will be associated with being bi. 

Add voices and writings that affirm you and your experiences

So often scriptures are used as a weapon against queer people. A lot of people think they know what the Bible says about queer people based on a few verses pulled out of context, but they’ve not put in any real study to the original language, situation or what those verses read like when put back in context. Nor are they aware that there’s also positive scriptures about queer people. I put together a collection of things I learned that I hope will help others. 

This year I’ve really been enjoying the Beyond the Block podcast, which has a Black man and a gay man discuss each week’s Come, Follow Me lesson. I also have liked the Faithful Feminists podcast. Both of those podcast highlight principles and concepts from the scriptures which are important for marginalized people. 

Find blogs, podcasts, books, videos, lectures, classes, twitter accounts and whatever else that helps affirm you and helps you understand yourself.

[takinginair]

Ex-ish

I took this picture when he wasn’t looking, and you can see he was smiling. He was always smiling. 

A lot of people have wanted to know about Diogo and how we are connected. It’s understandable, when I put something on social media as intimate as this, people invest with love, thoughts and prayers; so it’s only natural they are curious as to why he’s now everywhere when he never has been before. Well, the truth is, from the day we met we were together, and yet weren’t. 

Like Romeo and Juliet, we are a romantic tragedy and God willing you will never have such a dysfunctional love; and yet, it’s the only love that infiltrates every cell in the human body and thus the only real love, in life. Just like me and him, our love was a series of contradictions, non-nonsensical emotions and feelings that can illicit ones best dreams and worst nightmares, all at the same time. 

When we met, we both felt nothing romantic - but we were drawn to each other. In June 2013, after a beautiful day on the beach with friends, he drove me to my hostel and dropped me off. He said he was hungry so I gave him my chips and he was grateful. He said maybe we would see each other in Italy and I blew him a kiss goodbye. I remember being shocked that I did that, but I had never met anyone foreign and so kind and I felt so happy that my heart sang. 

During the entire 2 months we skyped every single day. At the end of my adventurous days, I would try to find a signal and we would talk for a couple of hours, comparing notes on our experiences. We didn’t flirt but he taught me about science, I taught him about religion and we truly became best friends.

After two short months we began taking night trains between Spain and Portugal to be together.  It was incredibly romantic and Portugal became as much of a home as Spain was, maybe more so because his family and I fell in love, probably before Diogo and I did.

We went to church every Sunday together and Diogo was baptized Mormon. In March 2014 he asked me to move in with him, but I said no and went back to the USA instead. I was homesick and I know that broke his heart, maybe to the point of no repair. It was devastating. 

We continued to talk daily and continued to tell each other how much we missed one another, and finally 1 year later he came to California. That didn’t go well at all. 

We had changed; my life was different, he had a job, neither of us were traveling anymore and most importantly, we had other people we were “seeing.” It was like we were in an open marriage, totally dedicated and committed to each other but minus the monogamy. It didn’t work at all. So after California, we decided everything we had was left in Portugal/Spain and decided to end it. But that was impossible. 

We checked in with each other every week or so and for the next year we would talk about getting back together, but something always got in the way (Mostly him...although he would tell you it was me). But we never made any plans to be together. 

Then after another full year, almost to the day in March of last year - I asked him to work it out and told him I was going to meet him in England, where he was then living and working. He was happy and  so was I. We decided it would be a our one last try. When I exited the train and saw him waiting on the platform it was magical. He ran up and picked me up and kissed me, and it was as if we never lost a second. It was everything we used to be together - silliness, bickering, chemistry and a lot of love. 

He asked me to come back again and I did only a month later. He worked during the day and I spent time with his sister-in-law, whom I adore. We took turns cooking and on the weekends we’d wonder around museums and hang out in crepe shops. We were absolutely adorable, just like always. 

We decided to be together and I quit my job and took all my important stuff to him in November. But that time something had changed. He was stressed, and Diogo was NEVER stressed. He talked about being down, he had gained weight. He had been dating again....he was distant and pensive - distant is something he also was NEVER, when it came to me. 

Looking back, I should have seen all those as signs he wasn’t himself. I should have worried about him more. But instead I became insecure. I thought maybe there was another girl, maybe he fell in love this time, with someone else. I just didn’t know how to take his actions, so I left to Thailand and told him to come catch me if he ever wanted. He said he would....and I believed him, a little. 

This year is one of the most painful years of my life. When Diogo kissed me goodbye at the airport, I sobbed. I felt like it was the last time I’d ever see him, no matter what he said. And I was right. There were so many signs that he was having inner struggles, but I took it so personal, that I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him about it. 

He didn’t follow me to Thailand. Instead he went back to Portugal and got a legit girlfriend. They were together for about three months or so when she broke up with him. I think he had a hard time with that. He did contact me in the course of their relationship but he didn’t talk about her. He was still tied to me, he needed me to tell him he was right, she was wrong and he was safe. I tried to do that, but nothing felt right to him anymore. He was already making his plans for his own life...his own death. 

I think I was his home. I think England rocked his head a little and he went to Portugal to go “home” but then realized I was home. He contacted me after they broke up and contacted me every day all day 24 hours a day until the moment he passed. During those conversations, he was not himself, I was not myself, we weren’t like we were, in many ways. But we fought, we talked about everything from the beginning of time, our time. In that way, we were very true to our relationship until his last breath. 

Were we ever a couple? I can’t answer that because it depends on who’s definition you’re using.  But I do know this, from the day we met my heart sang, and so did his, and that feeling never left....ever. 

We were totally connected. He would call me when something bad happened to me, because he felt it. I would get a pounding, dull ache in my chest every time he was going to call me, but put the phone down. We were each other’s home. Regardless of details, hurt feelings, angry words, other relationships, it was obvious to both of us - two people were never so relentlessly dedicated to each other, as we are. 

I know I will never love like this again, by the grace of God. It took everything out of me and made me question my sanity at every turn. It made me insecure, unhealthy and obsessed with us. A romantic tragedy such as ours is exactly what Shakespeare wrote about; it’s the reason Beethoven wrote music and Judy Garland sang. It’s the same thing that breathed life into my soul, and yet I’m almost sure, I could not survive it again.  

I wouldn’t wish this type of love on my worst enemy. And yet, like standing at the edge of the Cliffs of  Moher, or staring down into the Grand Canyon, or swimming with sharks in the Galapagos Islands, if you haven’t done it, you haven’t truly lived. 

[eternityofmeaningfulthings]

God has been teaching me...

So I realize I very rarely post on here anymore. I just wanted to kind of update for whatever reason; if anyone was curious and also for myself.  God has been teaching me something big the past few months- and it kind of came out of nowhere. And honestly it doesn’t make much sense; or it didn’t at the time.  As some of you may recall, I joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints back in November. It was about June of last year that I began looking into the church and ended up being baptized on November 5th. I came into it with many concerns that I simply tucked under the rug because so many people in the church convince you that any rational thought is just “Satan trying to push you away.” So I blocked out any doubts and rolled with it. I took a huge leap of faith... and it was all fine and dandy for a few months... but getting towards the end of January, slowly something began bothering me.  I don’t really recall if there was one thing that really set it off; but it all kind of began to go downhill around after I spoke at a missionary Zone conference, giving “advice” to missionaries. Beforehand I was speaking to my mom about what I was going to be talking about. She made it very clear that she disagrees with missionary work and how they tend to shove things down people’s throats assuming to know their life and what they need. At the time I got very offended. I cried after that phone call because of all the “rude” things my mom had said about the church. But after awhile, I began to understand everything she was saying. Suddenly everything she presented to me became apparently true. I began to notice there were three consecutive weeks at church where all talks given were about missionary work and “saving people”. It began to bother me because I started to think about my own family and how pure I believe they are. They aren’t baptized. They aren’t even really Christian... but they are probably more sincere than many people at my church. They did good for the sake of doing good; not because their religion told them to. They loved because they truly felt love; not because they were following some example. Goodness does exist outside of religion, I know that to be true and I was tired of hearing from church that “true joy” only exists in the church and outside of it, there is only fleeting happiness but no one experiences the fullness of joy. There is something missing in their lives. I began to think, um, no? I was happy before I joined the church... and I am not suddenly happier. I am about the same. I didn’t gain some joy that I didn’t have before. I am not suddenly a better person. And I sure as hell don’t find it necessary to go around assuming I know what other people feel and need in their lives.  I try so hard to be understanding and what I like to call “spiritually mature”. This is humbly accepting uncertainty. We can not be sure how other people feel. We do not understand their journey, so who are we to judge? We don’t know their personal relationship with God; so who are we to speak on His behalf about them? I think it is spiritually mature to admit that we can have faith but ultimately we don’t have 100% knowledge of who God is and what the afterlife will bring. Nobody knows. And that’s the point. If we could know, there would be no mystery... and there is a mystery, that’s what makes life great. That’s what makes God great. But I don’t think we should ever put Him in a box; limiting Him to some limited way of thinking.  So this is what initially began to repel me from the church. I also began to notice all my own personal faults with how I interpreted religion. I let religion consume my life. Before being associated with the church, I was following Krishna Consciousness for 4 1/2 years... and that, though beautiful at times, completely destroyed my view of the world. I’m not saying that everyone in KC has this mentality; but I surely did. I seen the world as a punishment, a place we are stuck and should earnestly seek to escape from. I seen enjoyment as evil. I seen love as an obligation, but also afraid to love too much. I seen attachment as pure evil, and so I detached myself from everything. I didn’t want to enjoy too much, I was afraid to... I would refuse to “lose myself” in happiness or enjoyment because I thought that would cause me to become attached and therefore snarled by evil materialism. I would judge myself for watching movies, for hanging out with “karmis” (non spiritual people), or doing anything that wasn’t directly spiritual. I was around 14 years old when I started getting into spiritual life, and I spent my entire teenage years losing my identity. I wanted to become “nothing but a devotee” and I did. I lost many of my likes and dislikes, I abandoned all desires, I even quit going to school and finished online at the age of 16 because I wanted to be home more for doing more spiritual things. I found it useless to communicate with my very “worldly minded” friends. I didn’t really desire to get a job because I thought it would only distract me. I really didn’t want to get married because I was terrified of being too attached to my husband. I even ruined a relationship I was in because of how afraid I was of being attached to him or loving him too much. I judged myself for enjoying time with him. I judged myself for any desires that may have aroused in me. I consistently suppressed emotion for so long that I began to lose the ability to truly feel. I became numb. The only time I would really feel is during worship. Other than that, it just felt like I was drifting through life, with no emotion. A blank stare, completely disassociated from life, just trying to make it through the day until I could do worship at night. I tried to have fun, but I didn’t allow myself to do so unless I was chanting in my mind. I remember being at an amusement park and chanting in my mind on roller coasters because I didn’t want to lose myself in the excitement.  I still struggle with letting go of that lifelessness. I was so prone to seeing life and enjoyment as an enemy that I almost forgot how to just shamelessly live. I finally am learning that enjoyment is okay. I can enjoy the taste of food, I can enjoy time with my boyfriend, I can lose myself in laughter at some dumb conversation, I can actually love without fear of loving too much, I can fully be myself and develop a personality, likes and dislikes, I can feel emotion without being afraid of having to remain “neutral” in every circumstance. It’s okay to get upset, it’s okay to cry, it’s okay to smile so bright the sun would be jealous, I AM HUMAN; and this is who God made me to be! FULLY ALIVE. FULLY PRESENT. Fully experiencing the joys and sorrows of this world; not trying so hard to remain neutral in fear of being snarled by the world. Because the world isn’t so bad... Yeah, I said it. The world isn’t this terrible prison. It doesn’t have to be. Yes there is sorrow, but there is also joy! Stop constantly thinking “the world is just full of pain, death, and disease...” and instead start thinking “the world is full of life, joy, and experiences.” We have a chance to learn and grow and be human.  We were not born human to suppress our humanity.  But anyway, as I was saying, because this was my way of interpreting religion; kind of “all or nothing”, it started to repel me from the church. Because I was honestly getting tired of the constant judgement I was giving to myself. For not reading scripture enough, for not doing this or that enough, for doing something I shouldn’t have, for thinking something I shouldn’t have, etc... I just wanted to be free. To be able to have my own views and not feel obligated to fit some category that I really wasn’t sure if I ever did fit into. I admitted to myself I didn’t agree with the way Mormons viewed God. So I began to ask myself what I did believe about God; and then I realized that what I believed about God was unique to me, and it didn’t have to fit into a religion. You don’t have to try to mold your beliefs around a religion. You can think for yourself. You can be yourself, trusting your intuition. Because God gave that to you. Always trust yourself, listen to yourself, and don’t ever deny that.  So although it wouldn’t seem like it was God pulling me out of two religions; it was. They were good for me at the time; but I had a lesson to learn. My view of life had to change. I needed to start living again. I was loving with conditions. I was afraid to love too much. I was afraid to enjoy too much (just general life enjoyments). But now, I know that God wants me to be happy. He wants me to experience life to the fullest. Not a neutral mind that only wants to escape the world. But rather an alive mind that sees the world as God’s gift to us. An optimistic mind. And I knew that although the LDS Church seemed to be very “life-centered” (surely more than KC), it still held me back from being my truest self. I’m not saying Krishna Consciousness or the Mormon Church are bad for everyone, they can be great things for some people... but it just didn’t fit me. It wasn’t me. And that’s okay. I’m just so thankful that I found myself again. I’m so thankful God led me to the place I am now. A place of spiritual maturity. I am not seeking as if I am lost, I am simply listening. I am open to what God is teaching me; but I am not expecting to be led to a church or religion. I’m not lost without one. I am a theistic agnostic. Meaning, I believe in God, but I also believe that details about God can’t be 100% known for a fact. I acknowledge the things I do know about Him, but I also accept that as a limited human, I can’t know everything. I’m okay with that, and I humbly accept that. I know God continues to teach me, guide me, and speak to me and I love Him wholeheartedly. I continue to serve Him not only in singing, but in my aliveness. I think I am honoring Him by being true to myself. There’s so much more I would like to say, I could go on forever. If you’ve actually read this far, good job haha.  Feel free to inbox me if you wanna talk or have any questions or whatever. :)