Defeating My Shame

I've recently had many opportunities to think about shame, and in the context of being LGBT, consider how shame is a barrier to happiness and progression. I'm no Brené Brown when it comes to shame (one of the leading experts on shame), but I've got some life experience with it. My intent is to share how shame negatively affected me on my life journey as well as a few things that helped free me of it.

Coming out was a process of decluttering my life psychologically. I had to rearrange, rethink, and reconsider everything I thought about being gay. I made many changes in my thinking, but perhaps the most life-altering lesson had to do with the sense of shame when it came to my identity. I found that I couldn't move forward in any aspect of life until this inner turmoil attached to my identity was resolved one way or another.

I'd like to start by sharing a part of a journal entry from a time about six months after I first sat down with my parents and told them I was gay. I wrote this during a time when I was struggling deeply. I try to keep anything that comes from my journal as close to what I initially wrote as possible, despite the urges to make changes. This entry remains completely unaltered.

May 19th, 2013

"I’m sitting in a Sunday school room during this second hour of class. I’ve been having a harder time than perhaps ever before. I’m out of ideas. Yesterday I had a complete break down. I just keep realizing that I’m ashamed of being me. A missionary from my mission was at the track meet so I went up and said hi to him. He asked me if I was dating anyone or if I was getting married any time soon. I said no, but didn’t mention that I was gay. I’m embarrassed and worry so much about what other people are thinking of me."

"This is obviously not a good way to think, since it has really been hard to be alive the last few days. There are so many things that are bothering me about all of this, I can’t even wrap my brain around it. No matter how much I tell myself that it’s okay to be me, and that it’s okay to be gay, I hate it. I hate me. I wish I were someone different all the time. I’ve wanted to “fit in” all of my life and have never been able to. That’s probably what’s been so hard lately. I just wish I were normal and that I could experience normal relationships and friendships like every other guy. But no, almost each relationship I have is affected by my being gay. It’s hard for me to watch straight guys all together without being bitter that I can’t do that without wanting more from the relationship. But wow, I’ve gotta get cool with myself, or else I’ll probably end up killing myself from the torture. Honestly, I’d rather be dead than feel the way I do. No kidding. People all say such nice things about me, but they have no idea that I fight the tendency to loathe who I am. That’s gotta stop! I can live like that."

"I’m on the verge of not being able to cope with this, so something has to change. I feel like if this goes on, I’ll become mentally ill or something. Seriously though, I can’t live life like this."

Reading these words brings back dark memories. If I remember correctly, I went into an empty room because I was losing my composure in Sunday school. This was a time when I felt trapped inside a person I hated, there was no running from what was happening and "fixing" it had been futile. Death seemed the only out, the only way to stop being me and to stop feeling what I felt... and what I felt was unworthy of loving myself. What I was feeling was shame, not of something I had done, but something deeper. It was shame of something that I was. Of course, I know that there is far more to myself than my sexual orientation, but it is a part of me, not a choice or something I do.

For me, my attraction to men is not just some transient feeling that waxes and wanes. It is as consistent as my natural hair color, eye color, or personality. It's just a part of my make up. Because I found that same-sex attraction was inseparable from me, despising it meant I despised myself. This self-perception was corrosive and began to destroy me. What magnified this even more was the idea that God believed similarly, that he abhorred what I felt and thus abhorred a part of me.

Establishing in my mind what God thought of LGBT people was a crucial step for me. Only until recently has there been any substantial conversation surrounding LGBT issues in the LDS church. Many of my teachers and leaders growing up were left to their own opinions or best efforts to describe how God felt about LGBT people. What was confirmed over and over was our standing belief on the value of the family and marriage. I also have to honestly say that even some respectable individuals in the church did not speak respectably about LGBT people.  This lack of dialogue created a gaping hole in my understanding of what God thought about what I was feeling and experiencing. I was left to guess what God thought about it all, and I usually guessed that he had harsh views when it came to LGBT stuff.

What came to guide me the most were my feelings, both spiritually and emotionally. As the depth of my shame became unbearable, I recognized that what I was feeling was dark, and kept me far from God. Because it kept me to far from him and any feelings of light, I concluded that it could not possibly be coming from him. So, I began to question what it was that God really felt about me.  It was around this time of deep self-loathing that a few simple experiences helped me toward a healthier perception of myself and God. My perspective and hope changed by understanding some simple truths and my life changed as a result.

One learned principle came through a process of talking things out with friends and family, as well as searching my soul for what I felt was true. On one occasion, I had spoken with someone about how I wondered if I could ever be the man God wanted me to be if I were gay, as if that would somehow bar me from being a good person (you can see that I thought there was inherent weakness or evil about LGBT people). As I talked with this man and later reflected on our conversation, I considered the possibility that I was just the way I needed to be, and that perhaps the opposite were true. Perhaps only the gay Carson would fulfill the role he came to earth to fulfill. You know those moments when an idea suddenly becomes very clear and there is a distinct clarity and light about it? This was one of those moments. I felt a huge burden lifted off of me as I felt that I was just as I should be, sexual orientation and all. I felt that this attribute of my life would shape me and lead me to perform tasks that I otherwise would not be able to perform. I began to love the gay Carson and not just some imaginary straight Carson. For the first time, I felt an inner congruence, as though a battle were no longer raging inside of myself. With the idea that I didn't need to change sexual orientation to be close to God, naturally came a mend in the great division that I had felt between us. I no longer felt at odds with him and felt more hope at the life that was left before me. 

Along with gaining a more positive perspective of God, I was also spending time reasoning with myself, realizing that being gay says nothing of my character (duh, right? Not sure why it took me so long to internalize all of this). There is nothing about being gay that makes me lesser, weaker, less capable, etc. If anything, I contribute some of my greatest strengths to the experiences I have had because I am gay. I am more compassionate and empathetic to those who don't fit in, I am more resilient to life's challenges, and I have considered life more deeply and sensitively than ever before. And, because I journaled my feelings extensively through it all, I like to think I'm a better writer. ;)

So, rather than living life wondering if I can stand another minute inside my own skin, I spend my energy making important life choices, including ones dealing with sexual orientation. I already have enough to deal with without trying to navigate this world hating myself every step of the way for something that is neither good nor bad... but something that just is. My experiences have been painful, but that pain motivates me to seek out others who suffer in similar ways. Whenever I'm talking with an LGBT man or woman who is recently coming to terms with their sexuality, I can almost always assume that they feel shame towards what they are going through, which breaks my heart. The first thing I try to convince them of is their worth, how it is completely unattached to their sexuality, and that there is nothing to be ashamed of.

I understand that these are my own personal experiences, and that others have come to different conclusions on some of these matters. Some may even question where all these ideas or feelings came from, and to be honest, I sometimes ask myself if I was just telling myself what I wanted to hear (which I really don't believe to be the case). But one thing is absolutely irrefutable. The moment I affirmed that I did not need to be heterosexual, and that I was whole as I was, I stepped out of darkness and into light. I felt closer to God and felt his spirit more in my life. I ceased to envy the dead and believed I had a purpose and a reason to live. I felt peace and happiness. I felt the fruit of the spirit. This is my experience and to say otherwise would be a lie. 

I also understand how it would seem that such an affirming attitude might lead one to act or behave in a certain way. I think that this is another reason I resisted loving myself as I was. I feared that if I did, I would lose control of my ability to make wise choices regarding my sexuality, and worried that I would slip down the slippery slope. To be perfectly honest, I experienced the opposite. My mind was clear, and I felt like I could make wise, less impulsive decisions regarding my future. For most of us, strong negative feelings like fear and hate cloud objective judgement. I'm grateful to say that I have been very deliberate about any and all decisions regarding my sexual orientation, and I contribute much of that to the process above.

Of course, this healing process didn't happen over night. It certainly wasn't a sudden fix, but shameful moments became far less frequent. I did have to (and continue to) deal with social stigma and other things that can cause embarrassment and shame, but at least Carson is okay with Carson. I'm now completely comfortable in my own skin (minus the broken neck part, ha), and while it's not always the most convenient thing to be gay and Mormon, I certainly don't hate myself for it. I'm at peace and I am grateful to say that.

It took courage for me to look into the mirror and learn to love the man that looked back, which is certainly an issue that we all have to deal with, regardless of sexual orientation. It took guts to ask questions, and consider new perspectives. It was difficult and uncomfortable at the time, but the result was far worth the pain. For me, little has contributed to my happiness as much as the process above has. Both my sexual orientation and an SCI have challenged my strength to love myself, but I continue to make progress where I think progress can no longer be made. I look forward to an even greater sense of confidence as I go through life seeking for answers and solutions to life's problems... and I'm actually starting to believe that I will find them along the way.

The Core Conflict

When I started this blog, I spent a lot of time thinking about the title. In fact, it was one of the aspects of creating this blog that took the most time. I wanted the title to capture the essence of what I sought to express. As I have looked over my past, reviewed my journals, and reflected on the general feeling of what it's like to be an LGBT member of the church, there is one word. The word is "conflict". For many like me, reconciling faith and sexual orientation has been a battle. It's a conflict between two of the most motivating aspects of our lives.

So with the word "conflict" in mind, I decided to find a title that would express that. When Worlds Collide seemed to fit best as both sides of the conflict are legitimate and enormous. There are many conflicts that I might write about in the future, but I want to start with the core of the conflict. What I intend to do in this post is to describe the details of this inner battle through the eyes of my own experience, and with the help of a journal entry from February, 2013. I have chosen to be transparent about many aspects of my life and recognize that there is a risk associated with that choice. There are many posts that have made me vulnerable, but this entry might take the cake. Proceed with sensitivity.

As I began to come to terms with being gay, I realized that I had developed some misconceptions throughout my life when it came to what I thought about gay people. I grew up in a home where I was taught to be kind and respect others, and when it came to LGBT issues, that's as much as I learned. I had the idea that gay people were attracted to people of the same sex and it was as simple as that. But, as I began to mature throughout junior high and high school I realized that such was not the case.

During junior high I began to recognize strong feelings of attraction towards other guys. I discussed it very timidly perhaps one time with my mom and that was it. I began a ten year attempt at stifling, avoiding, fighting and even changing my feelings of same-sex attraction. I did everything within my power to change my feelings because I feared what they would mean for my future. I believed that my attraction to men had everything to do with physical attraction, so I became an expert in self control and did anything to avoid situations or places where I might be confronted with an uncomfortable situation.

I continued with these attempts throughout high school. I prayed, fasted, set goals, and immersed myself in anything that would distract me from what I was feeling. Inevitably, I always realized that nothing had changed except my ability to control who I looked at. I was still absolutely, unquestionably attracted to men. I assumed that being gay only implied this physical attraction, so that's all I was aware of in my efforts to change.

In the last few years of my high school experience I began to make close guy friends. I enjoyed hanging out and doing all the normal high school stuff. However, I began to experience something that confused me. I was involuntarily forming strong emotional bonds with my guy friends... only it seemed to be a one way bond. It is normal in any friendship to have mutual interest, but I recognized that my male friends were not feeling what I was feeling for them. I remember feeling so much disappointment at the way our friendships turned out. It was always clear that I wanted to spend more time, connect at deeper levels and be generally closer. I distinctly remember going into my bedroom and sobbing at the whole dilemma, wondering what on earth was wrong with me. Why did I care so much about these guys? Why did I think about them all the time and get excited about a text or a phone call? Why was I so different than they were?

After high school and as I worked through things, I wrote down my feelings as a way of clarifying my thoughts, which helped immensely. I had one epiphany that trumped all the others and helped me identify why I felt so much emotional pain. I realized that being gay wasn't all about sexual intimacy. I wasn't crying in my bedroom night after night because I wasn't fulfilled physically, it was because I was longing for and lacking emotional connection and didn't know why. Here is an excerpt from my journal as I looked back on high school experiences.

"As I have had the occasional moment to express my feelings to a listening ear, I have identified several things [regarding my attraction to men] that have been hid away... Recently, as I have reviewed my [past] relationships with men... I have recognized my deep feelings of care and emotion for them. This is not raw sexuality, but issues of wanting to belong, feel cared for and loved by someone that I have... desired to be with. Through my teenage years and to the current date, I recognize my... feelings for other (some, of course not all) male friends I had and [realize] I consistently felt acute disappointment at how these relationships turned out. I was always denied the connection that I longed for. The longing to feel needed, to feel supported, and to feel wanted, and most deeply, to feel loved... Emptiness, inevitable emptiness always follows. Never fulfillment. No friendship alone would be enough to fill my well of sentiment. It’s more than friendship that I long for… Perhaps following a path toward a same-sex relationship would fill that well. In fact, I believe that it would, and for a person who feels as much as I do, what a relief that would be… to feel whole for once in my life."

In that entry, I was trying to describe my realization that being gay went far deeper than who I thought was attractive. It had everything to do with all those feelings I described. Emotional closeness, connection, belonging, feeling wanted, etc. I realized that for me, this had more to do with emotional intimacy and less to do with physical intimacy, which made things far more complicated. Sure, I could survive without physical intimacy I suppose, but could I survive without meaningful companionship for my whole life? I used to think this was all about lust and self-control or something, but it's so much more than that. It is about the deepest longings that human beings posses. It truly has to do with love, and therein lies the conflict. For me, the conflict is feeling that what I need and desire most, what I feel would be best for my life and future, is at odds with what I believe.

For me, much of the conflict was found in my desire to have a traditional family (which is central to our belief in God's plan), but knew that I would probably never fall in love with a woman, which for me was requisite in building a family. I remember feeling terribly stuck, and even felt at times that I was created contrary to God's Plan of Happiness. All I wanted was to do God's will, but felt incapable of doing it authentically. And not only was there a dearth of pull towards women, but there was an abundance of desire to continue to connect with men. I felt confused since I felt like I should want to like women, but struggled to even want to, since my attraction to men felt not only natural, but good, healthy, and wholesome.

The realization that sexual orientation is immensely deep and includes many feelings that transcend arousal is one of the greatest that I've had since reconciling my feelings. It is the one thing that I wish I could tell anyone who expresses any desire to learn more about their LGBT friends or family members. It is easy to navigate this issue mentally or spiritually if you believe that this is simply an issue of lust or sex, which is not the case. I believe that understanding the depth of these feelings helps breed greater empathy toward LGBT members of the church.

I want to express to any LGBT members who are currently going through this, that there are answers available when it may seem like there are none. There are roads to happiness. It is my experience that God is aware of this plight and that he will lead us down personal paths if we have the courage to follow him, wherever he may take us. In the past I have felt angry with God and thought of him as a mean parent. He is not a mean parent, not if we believe he is who he says he is.  I believe that as we intend to do his will and do our best and follow inspiration for our personal lives, that answers will present themselves that will lead to our happiness.

Why I Write

"What if I'm gay?"

I heard myself silently voice this fear countless times after returning home from serving a two year LDS mission, each time with a renewal of panic and anxiety. I had been home from my mission for about six months and I was trying to carry out my life plan. The plan was to grow up, go on a mission, come home and date a bit, find and marry the woman of my dreams (though I never dreamt of women for some reason) and live happily ever after... As I moved towards these goals, I found myself incapable of asking even a single girl out on a date, and I was simply unwilling to face the reason.

Deep down, I knew that I was attracted to men and I knew that I was not attracted to women, but I was so far in denial that I kept myself from accepting that fact. Previous to my mission, there were many times when my feelings were far too evident to deny, so I would immerse myself in a spiritual self-improvement program to try and change what I was feeling. My efforts were initially helpful in controlling certain aspects of my feelings, but never truly. The truth of my undeniable same-sex attraction always came back to hit me in the face. When this happened in junior high or high school, I always had my mission to distract me or look forward to, since marriage was still an ethereal concept that I didn't have to address yet. Now that I was home, it was time for the rubber to meet the road relationship wise and there were no more excuses.

Denial is a powerful thing and my fear of being gay was so powerful that it kept me from ever confronting the truth. At the time, I felt that nothing could be worse for me than being gay would be. Like I said before, I had planned my life out in a very specific way since I was just a little tyke in Sunday school. In my mind being gay would throw a wrench into all my plans... plans that were core to my existence, plans that had been thought about and prepared for over the course of two decades. So naturally, it was easier to pretend and deny what I felt so as not to face the truth, because the truth would be too painful to bear.

In early December, 2012 a few small events brought me to finally take an honest look in the mirror at the real Carson. Not just some imaginary straight Carson I wanted to be, but for who I really was and what I really felt. On that day, I started one of the most difficult journeys of my life. It was the journey out of denial and into reality, a reality that scared me to death. A reality that would challenge so many things that I thought I knew, and would ultimately force me down a path of decision. I didn't want to find answers for myself, I wanted to fit the cookie cutter, fit the LDS-returned-missionary mold, follow a predetermined course. While my path would often seem paved with nails or broken glass, I learned that such paths made me more resilient and taught me some of life's greatest lessons.

My worlds were colliding, and thus began a process that would teach me more about life, people, and the gospel of Jesus Christ than I would have ever known... and above all it would teach me about myself. This process has taken a great amount of time, and has consumed my thoughts and energies since the moment I began it. The posts following this first one will be a description of the experiences I had coming out to myself, family, and community as well as the important lessons I learned along the way. Lessons not just about what being a gay Mormon means, but lessons about life. Lessons about love.

I have been wanting to blog these experiences for many, many months but have not had the courage to do so. Certain current events have motivated me to share my thoughts in a more public forum. I do not claim to be an expert or an authority on this subject, but I do have experiences and I believe that alone gives me enough reason to share my feelings. I have also been concerned about pleasing many difference parties that may run into this blog. I am certain that some will disagree with what I say, or the terminology I use, but to be honest, I decided that starting this blog wouldn't be about me. It would be about bringing together two worlds that seem at odds with each other. I've had hundreds of messages over time from both LGBT and straight individuals asking questions and opinions about my experiences. Regardless of our sexual orientation, all of us will encounter discussions, arguments (hopefully not too many), political debates, etc. on topics surrounding LGBT issues. Knowledge and understanding give us the ability to love and empathize with one another. They allow us to be more Christlike in our associations. I watched my family as well as myself transform as we talked and learned together as I included them in my experiences. If nothing else, I at least want to make my experiences readily available to others who are seeking more understanding.

In the early stages of my personal acceptance, I considered keeping my experiences to myself and considered staying "in the closet"... but there was one thing in particular that compelled me to be open. I personally knew the struggle of living in fear, and living in a place where I felt I would never belong if I were gay and open about it. As I tried to reconcile my own feelings, I longed for role models, individuals who were doing or had done what I was seeking to do, that is, reconcile faith and homosexual attraction. I personally knew no one who could do that for me. What compelled me was the thought that, were I to remain silent, other LGBT individuals would inevitably have to face the same challenge that I did. I could not in good conscience remain silent. I refused to be that person, and committed to blazing a trial, even a small one, toward greater openness and communication. I am passionate about this subject and have entirely pure motives in creating this blog. I pray that another, even just one other, may benefit from something found herein.