This Thanksgiving season I want to do something a little different. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because it is a reminder to express gratitude and gratitude is my favorite emotion to express. I believe that gratitude is not expressed often enough and I think it feels nice both to give and receive.

As important as it is to express gratitude towards others, I believe that it is just as important to express gratitude for ourselves. Expressing gratitude for oneself can often times be construed as being egotistical or narcissistic which can be true. In some cases however, I believe that honoring ourselves can be a healthy sign of confidence.

So in the spirit of displaying healthy confidence, I want to take the time to thank myself. I am a good person. I work hard. I care hard. I love hard. I have contributed a lot and have much more still to offer. I treat people with respect and try my best to be of service to others when I can. I have intentionally chosen a career dedicated to working with and for others and I am committed to creating and making change in this world.

Life is not easy. I know hardship. I know pain. I know loss and grief as well as judgement and ridicule. I have experienced days in which getting out of bed feels impossible as well as months where living has been a difficult task in and of itself. I have channeled David, while standing in the face of Goliath, summoning courage and strength where there was none. I have stumbled and fallen, made mistakes time and time again and have let those I care about down from time to time.

Although I am not perfect, I am great. Honoring and thanking myself for all that I am and have to give has taken years to understand and make practice of; but, I have learned that I am worth it. I work hard for others and I have learned to work hard for myself as well.

I am thankful for the person that I am.

The moments when you are hosting an anti-bullying day at school and the students that don't own any purple come rushing to wear purple post-its to show their solidarity.

The moment when your straight co workers suggest that you have a display case in your school for your GSA to display the work that the students are completing for all to see.

Mia

When I think about this I think of the first girlfriend I ever had. This was the only monogamous relationship I ever had. We got together when I was 14 and were together the entire time I was 15.

So I ended up meeting her through one of my other friends and at first we were just really good friends. She was Catholic and so was her family. And this was before I came out and before she had come out. So her family taught her that being gay is really really bad and that she would go to Hell for lack of words. There are a lot of gay people in my family, but the are not openly gay.

Her mom ended up finding out that we were together and her mom flipped out. Her mom wanted me dead flipped out. Her mom forbid her from ever talking to me again, took her phone and grounded her for about a month and she ended up getting sent to her grandmother's house, who is also very religious.

Her grandmother lived on the same side of town as me and her grandma hadn't met me so she didn't know who I was, so I could keep visiting her. It got to the point where I was over there all the time, all my stuff was over there and it really pissed my mom off and then her mom found out that I was going over there.  He mom flipped and her aunts flipped and her cousins flipped and her grandmother flipped. They all flipped.

But her dad was divorced from her mom and she got sent to her dad's so I went to visit her there. I'm pretty sure her dad caught us making out on the couch and he didn't say anything and just left. He didn't say anything for awhile and just ignored it which is pretty funny and interesting at the same time.

So this gets harder and harder to keep on seeing each other. For her to sneak over to my place and for me to sneak over to hers. About a year passed throughout all this time, and pretty much we started getting into a lot of trouble together, partying and doing a bunch of stupid things. We ended up getting in trouble for curfew and trespassing, a bunch of stuff. And then my mom said she couldn't come over at all, which made us both kind of rebel against both of our families.

After so much drinking and partying, our relationship became abusive where we would drink a lot and get into fights. When we were sober we would laugh about it and think it was funny. After this went on for so long, our fights got aggressive and there was a time period where we hand't seen each other for awhile and I found out she had cheated on me. So we ended up breaking up for awhile and then for awhile we were on again, off again; on again, off again. And then we finally broke up for good.  I think we both went on the rebound, like really crazy. I'm 18 and still on the rebound.

This feels like the best relationship I have ever had and the only solid relationship I have ever had. It's interesting how this relationship started out healthy and fell apart. I don't look back upon it like it was a bad relationship. I do feel like I really was genuinely in love with her though. I feel like my first love was my first heart break too. And this isn't always people's idea of love.

Looking back I realize that I needed to let go of the relationship sooner. The first year was amazing but the second year was shit. I learned to not hold onto a bad relationship and to let it go if need be.

Anonymous

So I wouldn't say that my grandparents are overtly homophobic, but they are definitely uncomfortable with the subject. I'm not sure if the issue is with homosexuality in general, or if it is because during their time this was something that was not discussed or present really. They both grew up in a time when homosexuals were closeted and few actually acted on their instinctual desires.

Since I have come out they made it clear that they love and support me, but discussing my partner and our life together has always been uncomfortable. They rarely ask questions about us and they will listen when I discuss her, but usually the conversation ends once I am done speaking. I don't think they are disappointed in me, I think it is more of an issue of not being entirely sure of what to say or how to ask about us honestly.

Over the years however, they have begun to ask more questions about us and refer to my partner by her first name. I am planning on proposing to her in the near future and I decided to break the news to my grandparents. My grandmother has collected jewelry over the years and when I mentioned that I did in fact have a ring, she started talking about how she may have a ring that could be more suited for wear when she works.

Honestly I was blown away. I was very nervous to tell my grandparents that I am planning on proposing and have a ring because these conversations are still slightly awkward. To have my grandmother offer one of her rings that I could give to my girlfriend astounded me. This was the greatest gift of acceptance that I believe I have received yet.

I personally do not believe in asking for anyone's blessing, I don't think it is anyone else's place or business, but in a way, this was my grandmother giving her blessing to me. The historical context of asking permission for marriage strikes too much of an ownership cord for me to be comfortable. Because she, on her own volition, offered to give me one of her possessions that symbolizes our union together, is the biggest tangible blessing of our relationship that I could imagine receiving.

Anonymous

I want to talk about my first girlfriend and coming out to myself. I didn’t know I was gay until after this experience. In middle school there was this girl I knew named Ashley and I realize now that I had a crush on her, but then I didn’t know I had a crush on her. She could see it but I could not see it and we had a weird relationship. We started to play basketball together, and we started to not be friends and become ‘frenemies’.

Basically how it came to be, when I was a freshman in high school, I went to three different high schools. I ended up at East and I was the new kid at East and she was there. I thought that there was no way we were going to be in the same class together and after lunch I walked into class and Mrs. Wagner introduced me and there Ashley was sitting. I was the new kid in class, and I sat down next to Carrie and we became friends. We bond over our mutual dislike of Ashley, because we were 14.

Months pass we become besties. Sophomore year starts and one day we were making fun of Ashley a lot. I knew why I was making fun of her. She was not my friend anymore. But I didn’t know Carrie’s motives. One day Carrie asked me why I didn’t like Ashley and I told her that we used to be friends and played basketball and one day she decided she didn’t like me. Carrie didn’t really believe that was true and she said, ‘I thought it was because you two hooked up.’ I said, ‘absolutely not! Why would you think that?!’ Then she said, ‘I thought you were gay?’

One thing that really sticks in my mind, when I was a child, my dad drives a semi-truck. One time he was delivering, he was a mover, there were two women, I had no idea what was going on, he was dismissive and cranky with them, I remember this in hindsight. One thing I do remember clearly, was that they gave us cookies and they gave my dad a huge tip, a couple hundred dollars, and so we were in the truck about to take off, and my dad said ‘fuck you dykes!’ This was the first time I heard him say the word ‘dyke’ and this struck me. I didn’t really understand it, but I knew he thought being gay was a bad thing.

That was something that stuck out in my brain and I am thinking to myself, I am not gay. People can’t be gay. Then it got me thinking why would she think I was gay? At the time I was a tom boy so I started to try to be more girly. I had my mom buy me skirts and dresses, which I never wore, but I tried. I never changed. I was still the same person.

I finally got the balls to ask Carrie why she thought I was gay. She said she didn’t know and then she told me that she was gay. She came out to me and I pieced this together and realized that she wasn’t out to anyone else and she thought we were both gay. This is when I realized people can be gay. They are not ‘dykes’ they are people that I liked to hang out with. This opened my mind up to the possibility that I was.

I told Carrie that it was okay and we could still be friends but that I wasn’t gay. We still hung out but I wanted to put a distance between the two of us. That proved to be hard to do what with her being my best friend. She came to me and asked me why I was being weird and I told her that I don’t like the way that I feel about you. This upset her and she told me that I didn’t know I was straight until I tried it. I think she knew we had feelings for each other even if I didn’t.

She kissed me and I didn’t run away and we basically started a relationship. That simple, who knew it could be? We kept it a complete secret however. I was terrified to tell my parents and she wasn’t ready either. We spent the rest of sophomore year completely happy in an undercover bubble. Nobody knew.

She had to move away to San Antonio. She tells me that she was going to go to a new school, start a new life and tell her parents that she was gay. I started to freak out because what did this mean for me? Her parents knew my parents and I was afraid she was going to out me. I told her I didn’t want to be with her anymore and she was going to leave anyway.

Our mutual friend, we will call her friend X, came up to me and said, that Carrie had came out to her parents. X was upset with me because we hadn’t told her and Carrie had when she left and questioned me why I hadn’t trusted her to tell her. I didn’t have an answer for her because I did trust her and she was a friend. I don’t know why I was ashamed of being gay. I couldn’t put into words what I was feeling.

I kind of know now that I was afraid of what my parents would do or walking into a locker room and having everyone say ‘that’s the gay one’. I know now this is ridiculous but in that moment it was very real. I am not ashamed of who I am anymore.

Teresa

How many of you have experienced a time in your life where you have told yourself, “No. That can’t be. I don’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it”?

Truth is subjective, and it is because of it being subjective that we can manipulate it. We can tell ourselves that something is true when it really isn’t. Many of us call this denial, and my denial was with my sexual orientation.

Middle school was something else. I have only met a handful of people who said their middle school years were care-free. Most of the time I hear that it was the worst 2-3 years of their lives and that it was wrought with struggle and pain. I don’t like looking back for the “worst years of my life,” but if I had to choose I would without a doubt say middle school.

I was in 6th grade and it seemed like every other day. I walked into music class and took my seat on the risers. There was a group of guys behind me talking about a variety of different things. Eventually the guys pulled me into their conversation and asked, “Hey JP, did you ever have a girlfriend in elementary school?”

I thought, What?! Elementary school? Why are we talking about relationships in elementary school at 11 years old?!

I responded, “Well, no, I didn’t have a girlfriend in elementary school.”

Some guys nodded and would utter small pieces of feedback like, “Oh,” and “Hmm.” But one of the guys said, “What are you, gay?”

I was stunned. Absolutely speechless. I immediately formed perceptions of homosexuality that were all negative: something to be laughed at, something that was “different” (and not in the good way), something to be ridiculed and mocked, all this and more. I went into defense mode to protect myself, and I said, “NO! No man, I’m not gay.”

I think I was telling the truth.

It wasn’t until later in middle school that I realized I was attracted to men. Many people may claim that people “become” homosexual because of a traumatic experience. I don’t agree. Was that interaction in the music room hurtful? Absolutely. But would I define it as traumatic? I don’t think so.

Once I had this “truth” about me being attracted to men, and these competing perceptions of homosexuality, it caused chaos in my heart. I decided to deny the truth so I could live a different truth: the “truth” that I was straight. I chose this because my perception of heterosexuality was much, much more positive than my perceptions of homosexuality. So I formed that barrier and told people that I was straight and rejected any claims that I was gay.

That barrier held true for 14 years. 14 years of claiming heterosexuality, claiming I was straight, and trying to contain the truth with denial.

For those 14 years I played the straight card. I had one serious girlfriend and dated a handful of other ones. I blamed my high standards and, “She just isn’t the right one,” for why my dates and relationships weren’t sticking. Every now and again - not as often as you’d think - I’d doubt my sexuality, but nothing so substantial that I freaked out.

Around 23-24 years old I started telling myself, “You cannot use women anymore. Until you figure out what is going on in your life and with your sexuality, you will not use women.”

This seems innocent enough, but on top of me making this commitment to myself, I also realized that I wasn’t quite ready to accept the truth that I was gay.

My new truth: I’m going to be single the rest of my life.

Happiness was stolen from me. I didn’t know what to do.

Finally, in 2012, I started truly thinking about and processing through my denial. Over the course of time, my denial formed a stronger and stronger voice, and I could no longer ignore it.

In January of 2013, I came out as gay...

... And I couldn’t be happier.

Denial is a very, very resilient defense mechanism. When your truth doesn’t match your perceptions, denial will step in and try to keep it under control.

What I am about to say is my own personal opinion based on my own subjective experience, so this may not apply to all people. I have come to believe that denial can be the source of all unhappiness. Do I believe that all unhappy people are struggling with denial? No. Other way around. I believe that denial truly keeps us from genuine happiness.

I denied because of fear. Fear of what would happen to me, if people would accept me, if I would lose friends, all of it. However, sacrificing my own happiness just so that I was “acceptable” in the eyes of others became too heavy of a weight for me.

My hope is that if you are struggling with denial or with your sexual orientation, help is out there. You are not the only person who has gone through what you’re going through. I encourage you to reach out and find someone who you can relate to and who can help you.

Don’t do this by yourself. You don’t need to.

JP

About a month ago I had the privilege to celebrate a birthday with one of my dearest friends. He lives in a duplex with his boyfriend next to his parents and has one older sister, a brother-in-law and two adorable nephews. My friend was a nanny, or a self-proclaimed 'manny', to these boys for the first couple of years of their lives and they have a wonderful relationship with him. Last month they were almost 5 and 3 and a 1/2 years old.

One afternoon my friend was at a rehersal and I was next door visiting his parents when his sister arrived with the boys. We were all waiting for my friend to come home so we could go out to dinner to celebrate his birthday. The boys had been napping and were waking up, still groggy and out of it. All of a sudden one of the boys saw my friend, sat up quickly, got off his mother's lap, ran out the door screaming his name until my friend picked him up in a bear hug. Just as the younger of the two squealed with joy the older brother also jumped off his father's lap and ran outside to great his uncle home.

As they were playing outside, my friend's boyfriend drove down the block, parked his car and started walking towards the apartment. When the boys saw him, they gave him an equally as joyous of a welcome as they did for my friend. He scooped them up one by one and gave each a bear hug as well.

While the boys were wrestling with their uncles, I talked with his sister about what their understanding of my friend's relationship was to his partner. She smiled and replied that they totally understood it. They had explained to their boys that my friend and his boyfriend were in a relationship just like their grandparents and like mommy and daddy, they just weren't married. This was the extent of the conversation.

Since the oldest is approaching kindergarden, his parents have enrolled him in a Catholic school, due to concerns about public schools in the area. Upon arriving at the school for an interview, there were two posters hung on a the wall in the hallway. One of President Obama and the other was of Governor Romney. The principal asked my friend's nephew if he knew who each man was and he replied that he did. He knew that Obama wanted his uncle and his boyfriend to get married but Romney did not so he liked Obama.

The point of this story is that all of the fears of children being exposed to homosexual relationships and the potential outcomes are irrational and come from nothing but discrimination. Every gay person I know, including myself, was raised by heterosexual parents in a completely heterocentric society and they still ended up gay. All of the relationship messages that have been displayed up until recently have been about a man and a woman; song lyrics, bilboard and magazine ads, commercials, movies, greeting cards, the list goes on. Furthermore, I have friends that were raised by homosexual parents that are straight themselves. There is no logic to this argument.

Watching these boys interact with their uncle and his boyfriend was so refreshing for me. The only effects I could see were of acceptace and understanding. The boys responded to their uncles just like they did to their parents and to their grandparents. There was absolutely no difference. I could see that they loved both their uncle as well as his boyfriend and they didn't care that two men were in a relationship. All they cared about was playing with them.

Many people have argued that children are not born with hate, rather that they are taught to hate. Sure there are many pressures coming from society but it is our job as society to "normalize" what is different. If children are taught to fear, hate, and judge anyone who is different, then this is how they will respond to that different person. Children are so much smarter then given credit for. They are like sponges, they soak up any information that is presented to, or around them. Would we rather our children be raised with acceptance or judgement? With love or with hate?

Last month the American Academy of Pediatrics came out in support of marriage equality, saying that children raised by two parents, any two parents in a loving stable relationship, are better off then being raised by a single parent. Gay parents don't turn kids gay, no one turns anyone gay. And even if people were 'turned gay' so what? Does this world really need more discrimination, hate, violence, anger and judgement?

I think we could take a lesson from these youngsters. Children don't judge based on skin color, religion, or sexual orientation. Kids judge based on how they are treated. Plain and simple. I hear many adults reminisce about how much simpler the good old days were when we were young and carefree and I admit that I often feel this way too.

Sure when we were children we didn't have stressful responsibilities including bills and jobs per se; but, maybe life was easier because we didn't care so much? Life was simpler because we were simpler. We focused on having fun and on activities and people that made us happy. We weren't consumed with judgements and anger that ate us alive, festering and making us cynical. We did what made us happy. We played. We explored. We imagined.

Many feel that once childhood innocence is gone, it is gone for good. Unfortunately there are many traumatic life events that occur on a daily basis to people that change them. People become so filled of anger, hate and fear, they no longer know how to exist in a world of trust and love. Some people feel so much they take it out on others which perpetuates this cycle and passes it onto the next victim.

Breaking cycles is quite difficult and many cannot accomplish this. We all have our own cycles to break, some of us aren't even aware they exist. Rather than trying to mend what was broke, let's try to build upon what has been built prior. Instead of picking up pieces and trying to clean up, let's stregthen and foster what is already there.

Too many kids have already been broken by society. Too many adults are still trying to pick up their pieces. The older one gets with broken pieces, the more difficult it is to repair. By teaching our children to love and accept from an early age keeps them whole. Teaching kids to hate and judge mostly affects them negatively. Hate and anger eat away at a person, forming cracks within his or her foundation. Hate and anger does not make a person strong, it makes him or her weak. Showing love is more difficult than showing hate and if we teach our children at a younger age then showing love will become more natural to them, a skill they will be able to take with them throughout the rest of their lives.

Coming out for my friend was not easy. In fact his life has not been easy. He has faced many different struggles aside from coming out and has overcome many obstacles in his life. Despite what he has been through, my friend is the epitomy of love. He treats everyone with kindness and shows love to everyone in his life. Even though he faced many difficult times, he has not allowed himself to use these as an excuse to be angry with the world. Instead to displacing his hurt and anger, he deals with it and responds with compassion and love. My friend is a model example of how someone has turned his life around in a very positive way.

Not only has my friend turned his life around, he is helping turn other lives around as well. He is always of service to his community and reminds people, myself definitely included, to live with love and compassion. Although my friend is technically an adult, he is one of the most playful individuals I know. He displays childlike energy and innocence even though he is in his early 30s. Life continues to throw him curveballs and some days are harder than others, but he works hard to remember to live with that love.

His nephews are not the only people that have benefitted from the lessons and experience he has to offer. I know I have. This man to this day is one of the most influential people I know and I am so thankful for him being a part of my life. Since coming out I have found myself becoming more angry due to the discrimination I have experienced. Infuriating as this may be, discrimination does not give me the justification to take my anger out on the world. My dear friend constantly reminds me to return to my happy place and to respond with love and kindness. Even if I can't change the world, I can change me. And if I can change the world, I want to do so with love. I want love to be a domino effect. I want it to ripple outward.

Watching my friend with his nephews gives me hope. They say that the children are our future. If we can teach our children to love and to accept from the beginning, well then maybe our future won't be so broken anymore.

Mia

There are moments in history, both good and bad, uplifting as well as tragic, which leave lasting imprinted memories on people. For me some of these memories include the 1989 Loma Prieta Earthquake, the moments when I found out that Princess Dianna and Biggie Smalls had died, and the night that President Barack Obama was elected president in 2008. I have always loved studying and learning about history and have very much enjoyed hearing first hand accounts from elder people in my life recalling their memories of when these such moments occurred. The falling of the Berlin Wall, when Kennedy and MLK Jr. were assassinated, or the decade long Vietnam War.

The past two days I have been glued to my computer listening to live feeds of the testimonies from the Supreme Court cases regarding Prop8 and DOMA, debating with people about the moral and consitutional framework for these issues and genrally being shocked and pleased with the amount of the support that can be seen on computers and televisions.

FaceBook has 'turned red' in support for marriage equality not only from members of the LGTBQI community but from straight allies as well. Many people argue that we in today's American society are addicted to our technology and lack human connection. Be this as it may, one benefit of this technology is the social movement. I have seen and read many different opinions about changing profile pictures but for me it is an issue of solidarity. Being a member of a minority population that does not have legal protections or rights in my state, I often feel that people do not support me and my rights. Seeing how quickly all of the profile pictures changed however, reminded me that there are so many people that do in fact support this cause that is so personal to me and thousands of others.

This morning a dear friend texted me expressing frustration over a family member that was challenging her and her sexuality and once again passing judgement upon her lifestyle. My first response was to remind her to breath and my second was to remind her to return the judgement with love, to be the change she wishes to see. I admit that I often fall victim to these heated debates as my passion usually gets the better of me, but I reminded her that we are fortunate to be gay, fighting for our rights today.

I have friends in different generations that came out decades ago in a time when there was little to no gay right's movement at all and their experiences are full of struggle and difficulty. There are so many stories where gay people got married to a member of the opposite gender because being gay and out wasn't an option back then. LGTBQI-ers were mocked and ridiculed and there were absolutely no legal protections for this group of people. Rather, there were laws in place that discriminated against and persecuted this population which created great oppression.

The Stonewall Riots were not all that long ago, especially considering that there is evidence of homosexual activity that dates back thousands of years. In the forty some odd years since Stonewall, American society has made great progress in protecting, recognizing and enfranchizing members of this community. Today there are 9 states as well as the Distric of Colombia that allow same-sex marriage. There are many public figures and celebrities that are endorsing equal rights for the LGTBQI population as well as courts that are overturning laws that promote discrimination and oppression.

As a child I became angry and upset very quickly when issues were not solved immediately, and my mother always reminded me that change and progress are slow moving processes. Sure there is still the instant gratification part of me that demands that change occur now, but I must remind myself that progress is progress and 1 small step forward is still a movement in the direction of change. As they say, Rome wasn't built in a day.

Sometimes I think it is easy to miss small changes when focused on the major change. There have been very small victories in my personal life that mean just as much as the major changes that have occurred. One of my coworkers told me awhile back that he used to use discriminatory language and didn't think twice about it. After listening to me and hearing how these words affected me, he decided to change and encouraged others to do the same. For me this was a small change that could have a bigger outcome and it meant the world.

Change is terrifying for so many different people. Change can be new and uncomfortable, that is why so many are so resistant. Forcing someone to change immediately can cause a defensive reaction and the resistance may become stronger; whereas simply suggesting change may produce a more open response that in turn could result in a potential to change. Over the past couple of years, I have heard about so many situations in which someone was completely against LGTBQI rights but after interacting with people within this community and getting to know them as individuals, these same people's views began to broaden and change.

Sick to my stomach with nerves and anxiety, I am terrified of the outcome of these two cases. The majority of this nation supports equality, but there are those, some being on the Supreme Court, that are arguing that change may be coming too quickly. Of course I hope that the Supreme Court will overturn both laws and we will be one step closer to true equality, but there is part of me that is scared to get my hopes up. At the end of the day, I know that the past couple of days will be some of those moments that will be recorded in history that I may be teaching about someday in the future.

No matter the outcome, I am proud to be alive in this moment.

Mia

It has been almost two years since my first entry to this blog in which I reflected on my own personal struggle with being a codependent in and to relationships. I am responsible for my own actions and have no one else to blame, but I do believe that we as Americans live in a society that fosters codependent mentalities. From movies to TV shows and music lyrics to magazine articles, the majority of these messages are how to find a partner, how to better yourself in order to find a partner and ultimately how to keep a partner happy. There are very few messages within our society that champion being single and independent, especially for women.

In that first post I discussed how my best friend dubbed me a love addict and that love was my drug. Having returned from a lovely weekend celebrating his 10th sober birthday I have been thinking a lot about addiction, and this all consuming disease. I attended a crystal meth anonymous meeting with him in order to give him a cake, and a man shared his story of use and coming to sobriety. He said something that struck me. He talked about the insanity in his head that results when he used. Along with his insanity, he talked about how self centered his thinking and behavior was when he used and how his addiction controlled both his thoughts as well as his actions.

When thinking about addiciton, most people connotate addiction with drugs and/or alcohol but from my own past and experiences I know that people can be addicted to much more than just drugs and alcohol. This particular friend of mine has always said that he is so glad that I never had the urge to use drugs and alcohol because I have the mentality of an addict. I am self-centered, my ego is huge and more often than not I make any situation about me. Furthermore I have insecurities as well as many self-hating thoughts and because I have not always respected myself, I have not always made respectable choices. Although I may not have been a typical addict that used meth or cocaine to get high, my addiction has been to love.

From the moment I met someone new, she was it. She was the one. I would fall fast and hard. I would get lost in the high of the newness of the relationship and the rest of the world would slip away from me. When telling friends about her the first thing out of my mouth would be, "we had an instant connection and I don't think anyone has ever gotten me so quickly." The most important thing was this new relationship. More specifically, the high that I was getting from this new relationship. The flirting, those first kisses, the pillow talk and the butterflies were all reinforcers of this high that I could not shake. I wanted these reinforcers all day, every day and I would put this new relationship first in order to feel these highs.

I would text this new person during work. I would cancel plans with friends so that I could see her. I would spend every waking moment thinking about how and when I would see her next, obsessing about the high I felt as a result of interacting with her. Receiving texts and surprises always resulted in a mini high, but nothing like actually getting to see and touch this new woman. No matter the distance or my schedule, I would drive miles and hours chasing that high. I didn't care. It was all in the name of love.

Like clockwork the high would eventually begin to subside. We would get to know one another and the butterflies would die off. I became more desperate trying to recreate the initial high, working harder in order to recreate it. Because the inital high was wearing off I became more desperate to recreate the first high and became more entranced with the relationship.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, for me the high was never the same or as strong and the relationship would start to fizzle. Like the good love addict that I am, even though I was aware of this, I held on. Although I knew that the relationship was doomed and should end, it was more scary to let go of my addiction and the relationships even though it was not working and was unhealthy for me. A friend of my friend this weekend said that in the midst of an addiction, life becomes shit. Although life maybe shit, it is still comfortable to lie in that shit. The trick is recognizing that shit is shit and we don't have to lie in it anymore.

The one man who shared his story at the meeting touched on a sensitive subject for me. Self-esteem. He mentioned that he didn't like himself in fact he hated himself so he used. He used so he wouldn't have to feel or be aware. I know that I used relationships to distract myself from how I felt about myself in a similar fashion. I didn't like myself and I used relationships to validate myself. I internalized that if someone was with me and loved me, then I must be lovable.

I hit my rock bottom about two and a half years ago. I was in an unhealthy relationships, traveling every weekend and leaving my life behind. A couple of months in I knew the relationship was ending and that I was losing myself and my mom gently urged me to end the relationship because I was no longer happy. I heard what she was saying, but I was not ready to deal with it. Ending the relationship meant that I would have to deal with myself, something I desperately did not want to do. Needless to say the relationship ended a week later and this was the best thing that could have happened to me.

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over, expecting a different result and this had become my life. I kept falling head first into relationships, completely and willingly losing myself hoping that the nextg relationship would be different. It never was. In fact they were only getting worse. After this relationship ended and realizing how far codependent I had become, I finally allowed myself to be single. To be sober from my addiction. Sure the first couple of days were riddled with anxiety attacks and sorrow, but like they say in the program, just hang on. Take it one day at a time. One minute if you have to.

Before long being single became easier for me, fun even. I rediscovered my life-my work, my friends and family and me time as well. Selfishly I could do what I wanted when I wanted and I didn't have to consider anyone else. This was new for me. I was constantly revolving my life around someone else and now I was only focusing on me. All that money I spent on that other person was now spent on me. I was dating myself and having a blast. I began to value myself and even like myself and through this I developed standards and expectations that were important to me in a relationship.

After nine months of being single, life threw me a curveball. I met someone. I was very hesitant at first. I finally found my strength and singledom, I didn't want to give it up. Like they say however you find love when you are least expecting it and so did I. A year and a half later we are still in a relationship and I am the happiest I have ever been. Although I still have moments of codependency, I have learned to let those go. I can be with her, while still maintaining my own life and this has made us stronger and happier. The pressure of being each other's one and only is gone becuase we have others, ourselves as well as each other.

Because I now respect myself, I can set limits without fear. Prior to this relationship I was too scared to stand up for myself and be honest because I didn't want to push my partner away. I was too afraid of losing that person to be true to myself. My girlfriend has even said that she appreciates that I can keep her in line and I feel the same. We have honest communication and respect one another and even though we have more difficult moments, we work our way through them. We are ourselves with each other and not trying to be someone else. We accept our differences and learn and grow from them.

One pivatol moment for me occurred about a year ago. We had plans to fly to Oklahoma City to surprise a friend for her birthday. The night before I came down with a horrendous stomach flu and could not go. The day of departure, we were both stressed about her leaving but decided that it was best if my girlfriend went. She rarely gets to see her friends and had spend money and I was an adult and could take care of myself. This moment was both terrifying but also liberating for me because it was a moment that I had to depend on myself. All this to say, I got through that weekend and now know that I can take care of myself.

I hope I have not offended anyone by comparing my love addiction to that of drugs and alcohol, but I see many similarities between the two. I can relate to so many people in the program talking about their dependence on their drug and use and it sounds oh so familiar to me. I don't consider myself sober but I recognize that I do have an addictive personality that needs to be kept in check. Like so many people in The Program, I need to work a program in order to stay sane and fucntional. I have worked some steps with my friend, particularly around fear and resentment and I have learned so much from these exercises.

All this to say I have learned that I can be in love and still be independent. I can still be myself while being with another person. A woman of great extremes, I have had difficulty finding a balance. I have had difficulty giving part of myself to another person, while maintaingin some for me. The most important thing I have learned is that in some of my most desperate moments be it physical, or emotional struggle, I can depend on myself. I can rely on someone, but not entirely.

One last, very important detail. Just because I have found happiness through independence, does not mean that I can stop working my program and forget what I have learned. I need where I have been so that I don't go back there. My friend has seen many of his friends relapse because they have stopped working their programs. I know that if I stop working my program I will fall back into my addiction of codependency. It has happened before and it can happen again. I had to admit to myself that I am powerless over love and when combined with my larger than life ego, I need to be careful.

The speaker at the crystal meth anonymous meeting shared that he was so happy being sober. Despite all the work it has been so worth it and he would never want to go back to his life of using. He said he felt free. Looking back he realized the drugs were holding him captive and I can relate. My dependency on relationships were holding me back and now that I have found myself, I am freed. After years of hard work, soul searching, therapy, moving one step forward and two steps back, through many ups and downs, I have gotten myself to a wonderful place. I am committed to an incredible partner and am sharing my life with her. This has been the greatest gift of my life and I am proud to say that I earned it. I have never worked so hard for something and am still working constantly. Even though I am giving much of myself to her, I am still remembering myself for me. It is my hope and goal that I will never again lose myself in another person.

I know I was under the impression that once I found this healthy relationship, that would be that. I would have found my happily ever after ending and it would have just been given to me. Life doesn't work this way. One must work for that happily ever after ending and not expect that it will simply happen. Furthermore, once that ending has been found, it is something that must continued to be worked on. Very little in life is given, rather it must be maintained.

For 10 years my friend has worked for his sobriety and to this day he considers himself an addict so that he will not forget himself. Many in The Program consider addiction a life-long disease. Although it can be overcome, it cannot be forgotten. I myself have worked for two and a half years now to remind myself that I too am an addict, my drug just so happens to be love and codependency. I have learned how to function in a relationship and have found balance here. In those moments of fear, sorrow, desperation and anger, I cannot only rely on her. I must also rely on me. Finally. It has not been easy, but it has been achieved.

My new high these days, is the high I find within myself. Within the life that I have created for myself. Yes, she contributes to my high, but she is not it. I am.

Mia

Anger was always a difficult emotion for me to feel. To express. To acknowledge. For the majority of my life I swallowed my anger, not wanting to make ripples or to make anyone else uncomfortable. I convinced myself that I was not an angry person.

Due to certain life events, my anger eventually surfaced and I began to realize it's root and even it's importance in my life. After I came out and the three years since, I feel like my anger has only exemplified. Never have I been hated on sight. Being told that I am and my friends and partner are going to Hell and are perverts incenses me. Not having the same legal rights and protections under the law makes my blood boil.

I was taught that if you have nothing nice to say then say nothing at all. This was a very important moral instilled within me and I took it very seriously. I still do to this day. I treat people with respect and am polite and do my best not to judge, and I expect the same courtesies in return. As I grew and began to enter the adult world leaving behind my sheltered, privileged bubble of childhood innocence, I witnessed first hand that this expectation was not valued by all. This was an eye opening experience that to this day, still shocks me to my core.

Over this past year, after experiencing blatant discrimination in my place of work and the lack of support I had, I am afraid that my anger is intesifying. I feel like my anger is turning into a sort of rage akin to that of the Hulk that just wants to SMASH. A Leo through and through my image is very important to me and I have a hard time not being liked by, well, everyone I meet. (I realize this is my own insecurity that I am ardently working on to let go of). Being an out lesbian is a target and there are some that judge and hate me on sight alone.

I have seen anger fester inside people, eating them alive and I do not want to become this person. Alas, two struggles that I have within me are forgiveness and letting things go. I am a control freak and this beast within me, no matter how often quelled and subdued, always finds a way to rear it's ugly head and almost take control of me. Not to forsake responsibility, but I seriously feel like this is a force that is greater than me that I cannot master and it frightens me.

While at my last place of employment, when all of the discrimination was taking place, a like minded coworker suggest that I create and implement a tolerance building and cultural diversity lesson plan. I immediately loved this idea and set to work. I researched many different human rights advocates throughout history and presented their accomplishments to the students and we had many amazing discussions.

Nelson Mandela was one of these advocates that we studied in class. I had seen the movie Invictus when in came out and ever since then I have had a fascination/slight obession with the man and his humanity. Here is a man who was imprisoned in his home country for 27 years while fighting an Apartheid and upon release was voted into presidency. The first man of color to achieve this reality. When voted in, the country was still very much divided racially but he had the grace to unite the two factions and bring the country together.

If this man, who experienced racism, imprisonment and all sorts of other mental and physical tortures while being stripped of all of his rights, could come out on the other side uniting the country and ending an Apartheid, then I as a teacher who still has the majority of my freedoms and rights can learn to forgive and move forward as well.

I work in the mental health field and am often told and do believe that anger is a false emotion. Looking at my own anger it is easy for me to admit that my anger is a result of being hurt and also of being afraid. I am hurt by the treatment of others as well as the lack of empathy I experience. I am afraid that things will not change for me and that someday they may even get worse. I realize after years of self-discovery and self-evaluation that my anger is a defense mechanism. I become angry to make the "other" the villain and me the righteous hero as well as by pushing them away. If they are gone then they can't hurt me, right?! I see that if someone hurts me or makes me angry, I immediately write them off and build a wall to protect myself from them. I make them my enemy and myself the victim. Their cause is evil, while my cause is just.

Like Nelson Mandela, Mahatma Gandhi is a favorite human of mine. His strength through the conviction of his beliefs inspires me to this day. A man of peace and love was able to change an entire nation without force or violence. He said, "When you are confronted with an opponent. Conquer him with love."

I have struggled with this words on and off. Part of me sees the truth behind them; but then there is the other part of me that feels like since I am the one being oppressed, it should not be my job to make the situation better. This part of me believes that I am in the right and the other person is in the wrong, therefore it is the responsibility of that person to change his or her ways.

A good friend once told me that I can only clean up my side of the street. I need to let that control freak part of me go and work on me because that is the one and only thing I can in fact control. I can try to educate someone or present a different point of view to a person, but that is where it ends. Just as I do not want someone to force me into believing one thing, I cannot force another to believe something I want. Another moral my mother taught me was 'do unto others as you would have them do unto you'. Lastly, from my own experience when a person approaches me with anger and judgement, I become defensive. Rather, when a person comes at me with love, patience and an open mind, then we can often have a discussion, even if we disagree.

Gandhi also said that "We must be the change we want to see in the world" and I whole heartedly agree. If I let my anger get the better of me than I am doomed to beome an angry person contributing to fights and judgements and yelling. No progress or change can result here. But if I can learn to love despite and through my anger then maybe I can make change. Not necessarily on a global level, but for myself and in my life. And if I change myself maybe I can make changes in how I interact with others. Maybe a domino effect?

Although this sounds grand, to this day, remembering love while I am angry is still one of the most difficult lessons I am continuing to struggle with. It is a daily process that involves constant work. Even though I am not there completely, I can feel a slight shift within me. There are changes, small, but they are there. Yes I still experience discrimination and it pains me every time, I will not allow myself to become apathetic to it, but I am committed to making a change. I will not give up the fight for my equality. I will however change how I fight.

Mandela was imprisoned for conspiracy to overthrow the Apartheid. When he came out of prison however, instead of using phsyical tactics as he had previously used, he changed to mental tactics. He utilized love, acceptance and forgiveness. Weapons that his enemies were unprepared for and ultimately could not fight. He won them over by killing them with kindness.

I want to be like Mandela. Like him, I want my greatest weapon and strength to be love and forgivenss.

Mia

Somebody

Don't look at me that way.
Don't just think you take me off the face of the earth.
Don't just think you should hate me.
You can but what's that worth?

We're all somebody to someone,
we're all somebody to someone,
we're all somebody to someone,
and I am somebody too.

You're scaring me with your mask.
You're hiding that you're human.
A gun'll have 'em do what you ask
but what is it that you're doing?

You must be that type.
I bet you probably do what you like
and break all the rules.

But we're all somebody to someone,
we're all somebody to someone,
we're all somebody to someone,
and I am somebody too.

You said it would be ok.
You said it wouldn't be this way.
You said I'd always be safe.
Well I guess that's what you say,
I guess that's what you say
when you love someone that way.

We're all somebody to someone,
we're all somebody to someone,
we're all somebody to someone,
and I am somebody too.

Alex Da Ponte

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CC7tk3RxkX8

Free

Most of us are raised to believe in a semi-specific meta-narrative. Mine was set in Judeo-Christian values. I grew up in the Nazarene Church, a fairly strict organization. I remember believing, at an early age, that Jesus Christ was my salvation, but if my actions ever strayed from the straight and narrow, I could lose the salvation as easily as it was given to me. Seems strange doesn't it? To be given a gift only to lie awake at night fearing that if you ever show yourself unworthy (basically ever show yourself at all) your only inheritance would be eternal suffering.

I became a fervent Christ follower. I went to a Baptist high school, never touched alcohol or drugs, took a vow to abstain from sex before marriage and made sure that none of my goals or desires came before my willingness to serve God. I suppose there are less appropriate things to dedicate your life to, but things got a little complicated when I finally admitted to myself that I was gay.

*GASP* The G word!!?

This couldn't be true? I prayed and intermittently fasted for 365 days that I would be cleansed or healed or whatever needed to happen to "fix" me. I mean, one of the last papers I wrote for my senior English class was entitled, "Why Homosexuality is Wrong"...I got a perfect score!

I was attending a Christian University when I had my first girl on girl romance. We quickly became a leper colony of two, but I couldn't care less. I was absolutely exhausted. You can only fight yourself for so long. I had a New Testament professor who encouraged his students to question scripture. He was a believer, but acknowledged translation errors and taught us to be scholars of the Bible. We can't be literalists just because we are afraid we might get something wrong.

I have always been terrified of my mother. She was the authoritarian in the family. She is intelligent, beautiful and successful. She isn't great at relationships, (I had four step-dads) but she always had me. I was her fearless body guard, even when I was a little one. I couldn't handle disappointing her and I knew that my homosexuality would be a huge let down. We went through an unrelated rough patch in which we didn't talk for about nine months. I moved away and distanced myself because I had to be my own person without fear of her sabotaging  my goals. I never stopped feeling guilty for disappearing.

When we started talking again, I was hesitant to come out to her, but I knew I needed to be honest and accept the repercussions. She yelled and we fought. I thought I had lost her all over again but the next day she just went on like nothing had happened. She was in total denial. Anytime we would talk, she would ask about boyfriends and if she would meet my friends that happened to be guys, she would tirelessly insist that we should "get married and have cute babies."

We spent this past Christmas together and I realized that I felt like a fraud. I felt that I was hiding from her judgement in not talking about it. She kept asking about a guy friend of mine and insisting on how great we looked together. I felt so invisible. I was angry that she couldn't acknowledge who I was, am and what I want more than anything. I want a wife! I'm sorry but I want to come home to the woman that I love and am committed to. I want people, mostly her, to accept this as reality and just let us be.

So I spoke up. I finally told her about the persecution I experienced at the Christian University that, I mentioned earlier. She was upset that I went through so much, but she was also very clear that the Bible says "homosexuality is wrong!" I immediately shared the verses in Scripture that I had researched and how the Greek translation of the word "homosexual" meant something different then, than it does today in our culture. I was playing quarterback on her field. I couldn't just say that I have doubts about our faith because I wanted to win her over, convert her understanding, if you will.

She shut me down. She said that I was being defensive and that's how I should know that I'm wrong. Then she did something unusual. My mother doesn't quit with me. If she wants to change something about my life, my plans or my goals, she creates a path of destruction until she either gets her way or I run away, but she stopped. She said, "do whatever you want, just know you're wrong." and she left it at that.

It hit me in the morning when she just continued like it hadn't happened that I don't need to accept it.

We went on that day to visit her old friends from the town in which I spent my childhood. She would mention one of my guy friends when they would talk about their daughters' weddings and I just smiled and played along. Something in her needs to see me as her perfectly straight daughter and for the longest time I needed her to get over that.

Something changed that night when we argued about the Bible. We didn't scream and I didn't cry and she didn't tell me I was stupid and I didn't run away. We talked, disagreed and left it at that.

If she can grow that much, then it is possible for me to evolve as well. I can realize that I don't need anyone to respect my love. I don't need my mother's approval of my coworkers' or even the state's. All I will ever need is to look myself in the mirror at the end of the day and know that I was honest with myself and that I didn't let something good slip through my fingers because someone else wasn't ready for me to have it.

Whether or not my scriptural research justifies my life in the minds of traditional believers; If the God of the Bible is real and he does involve himself in our daily crap, His grace exceeds my foolish missteps. My genuine love for my partner must be anything but sinful.

Cahte