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
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Thursday, January 3, 2013
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
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
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