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Sunday, September 25, 2016

LGBT: The Urge To Come Out, Or Anger?

 I am very upset with my angry, homophobic uncle right now, since my mother mentioned to me that she thinks I have PTSD from his bullying. My life is mostly happy, but when I think about him, I am so angry, and I never want to see him again. But eventually, I also want to come out as gay/bisexual (I'm "mostly" gay) to my family. And I want to come out happily, too, probably by using the word "gay" as a synonym for happy. So it's hard not to mix up those two desires, right now: The desire to come out, and the desire to give him hell.

My mom and I recently went to a chiropractor in town who also is into naturopathy. I know that some people may be skeptical or ignorant of what that actually is, but suffice it to say, I don't believe in taking mercury for "therapy" or taking a little bit of poison or allergen to cure me of allergies or sickness. And as far as I know, the chiropractor doesn't either.
But what he has does do, often deals with emotions and stress.
My mom had also very recently mentioned to me, "I think you have PTSD," when she questioned me about why I was still bothered about my angry, bullying uncle, and I told her, "When he tickled me, I felt like I was drowning." My body had thought it was dying, so I naturally panicked and was absolutely terrified. And ever since, being around him, even dreading being around him, has caused me a lot of stress.
The chiropractor told to lie on my back, holding my hands on my forehead, while thinking about what stresses me.
My mom was sitting there, and said, "Tell her to think about Uncle Brother!"
(No, it's not incestuous; he just hates his name, and so his sisters called him, "Brother." I was the oldest grandchild, and when I got old enough to talk, that's what I thought was his name.)
Fortunately, the chiropractor knew our family, and knew why he was called that. I had not thought about my uncle while lying there, but that certainly was a cause of stress, since my mom mentioned PTSD. The PTSD theory just made too much sense to ignore it.
"You're stressed because of your uncle?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied. "There was a time when I was little, and he was so cruel to me, one Christmas, that I said, 'You're just like the devil!' and he said...what did he say?" I asked my mom. I remembered that he had said something threatening, but not exactly what.
"He said, 'You call me the devil again, I'm going to bust your ass.'"
"He did?" I asked in surprised.
"Yep," she nodded.
I was shocked. Who threatens to spank another person's child, right in front of their parent? Much less "bust your ass"?
I explained further. "Anyway, my mom got really mad at him, and said, 'No, you won't,' and they started yelling, and my aunt was so scared that she pushed all of us kids out onto the porch so that we wouldn't be near him. And I thought he was going to kill my mother."
My mom later said that she thought, "I'm going to hit him with this lamp if I have to," and would have, if it had escalated. And that he didn't know how close he came to dying or getting seriously hurt that day, because though he was stronger, she had been quite a brawler in high school, and was feeling very violent at that moment.
My other uncle, the husband of the aunt who pushed us kids out of the house, got between them and walked towards my angry uncle, arms out at the sides, until Uncle Brother sat down in a chair. Uncle Brother then got up and went into the kitchen, and my other uncle shielded my mom while he walked by. "Maybe that's why I've always told him he's my favorite brother-in-law," she remarked.

After learning all of this, I had the urge to call my Uncle Brother and tell him that I'm gay as f*ck, and that after all he's put me through, he's on probation with me, and that (though this should be so obvious) if he is unpleasant to be around, in the slightest, I'm not going to be around him!
But then I realized that I feel two different things right now--the urge to come and be myself, and the urge to tell him how badly he has treated me and what I think of him--and that is confusing for me. I am so angry at the way he's treated me, at his cruelty. I called him the devil because he loved nothing more than to make me cry--just like the devil. He was evil. And though he's perhaps mellowed over the years, I can never, ever forgot what he's done, what he's put me through. I am so hurt, and so angry, and I don't want to see him for at least six months! I already know that I will probably be "sick" for the holidays.

But...coming out should be joyous, regardless of other people's reactions. I want to answer the question, "How are you?" with, "I'm feeling so happy and gay today!" But I'm not feeling very gay when I'm around him--especially just thinking of that, right now.
I'm not sure if I will ultimately have the need or urge to tell him what he's put me through. I don't care about having any kind of closeness or relationship with him. So it may or may not be worth it. I don't know if I'll need to tell him what I really think of him, or if I'll just to want avoid him for months at a time.
But I realized that I was stifled, at the age of seven, from saying what I truly felt about him: "You are the devil!" And I use the word "stifled" because, though I said it, I was too scared to be honest about him or to him from then on. And I apologized, because I (mistakenly) thought my mom would make me, anyway--even though I was not sorry in the least.
 It's a powerful thing to take back that right, that has been stolen from me, the right to be honest. I practice saying, "You're the devil," and it makes me feel so much better. I have no idea whether I will ever really say it to him, but it feels much more powerful than practicing saying anything else to him.
"He was so self-righteous about his Christianity, that was the worst thing you could have called him," my mom remarked the other night.
"It's probably still the worst thing I could call him--except perhaps a gay devil." (Though I'm not sure I would, since not all of us are devils. But there is no denying that he has always been scared to death that someone would think he was gay, ever since I could remember. And I may say that, or the even creepier and ambiguous, "I know you have something to hide.")

It helps to get clarity on these things, asking my mother to recall as much as she can of that and other incidents, and speculating on why he turned out so mean and cruel. (We think it's because he was taken away from his Aunt Alice, who cared for him while his sister was in the hospital. Aunt Alice and her older children were very affectionate, and my grandparents were not, at the time he was little. This doesn't excuse his actions, though.)
But I think I also will avoid seeing him for a long while, because I felt much better after not seeing my other grandparents (on my father's side) for at least six months, as I recall. They bothered me a lot too, but now it is not so bothersome to see them, after taking such an extended break, and not having them in my life as much now.
I don't know whether I'll say anything to him about the things he's done, either. It might make me feel better to do that, but it might make me feel better not to. In any case, I want to avoid seeing him until I feel better about everything that has happened.
I want to get to the point where I can honestly say, "I'm feeling very happy and gay today!" Because coming out should be a joyous experience--even coming out to him, however he reacts. I think I am safe enough to come out--with my mother, my pepper spray, knowing that he knows I've taken martial arts, and perhaps my mother's favorite brother-in-law around. So it should be a celebration of not caring what he or anyone else thinks about me. It should be liberating, and I should be incredibly happy, carefree--gay. So I think I'm going to wait until being around him doesn't sicken me with disgust anymore.
If I can help it, I'm going to make my coming out very happy--gay--just like most of the rest of my life.

LGBT: Gay Means Happy

 Gay means happy. Since realizing that coming out and being myself would be a whole easier, and a lot more fun, if I tried to be gay in both senses of the word, those have been the words I try to remember. Gay means happy. And I have also been working to expand my vocabulary.
Pretty colors are bright and gay. In a good mood, I'm happy and gay. I've got a good life, and I'm very gay about my life.When I'm down, I play a gayme with myself, thinking of ten things in my life that make me feel gay. I love this gaily colored candle; my cats make me so gay when they cuddle with me. When I'm upset with someone, I'm not very gay with them.
It creates all kinds of interesting and gaily fun confusion in our modern world! :)
It's an effort to remember all this, but I'm going to try. If gay means happy, then it is a positive thing, a good and wonderful thing. By doing this, I believe we can all combat the trend of using "gay" as a euphemism for stupid or bad. This trend is especially popular among middle schoolers and those with equivalent maturities (sorry,  a lot of middle schoolers, don't mean to insult you).
I'm hoping that by using "gay" in both traditional senses of the word, that we can change the world. So I'm going to try to remember to use this wonderful, gay word whenever I can, because it means happy, and it also means AJ. 
My self-esteem has already felt the wonderful, gay effects from this effort. I'm very gay about the way it's working out for me. And I can't stop smiling when I use that word like that.
And it also provides an instant way to come out, because every time anyone ever says, "How are you?" I can answer, with a big smile, "I'm feeling very happy and gay today." Gay means happy, don't you see? Oh, yeah, well, I'm that too, hahaha!
Gay is happy. Even if it doesn't seem like it now, someday, this will be true for you. Someday you will enjoy being both senses of the word. And slowly but surely, we can create a new and gayer world, for everyone.
Someday, they will no longer be able to steal your gayness and gaiety. As much as you can, don't let them. Cut them out of your life as much as possible, to shield yourself from their negativity. There's a reason anti-gay people also tend to be very angry and unhappy people. They're literally anti-happy!
Gay means happy, and if it also refers to a part of you, you can learn to love yourself by using it in that sense, if only just to yourself at first.
Hope you all have a very gay day.

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Minimalism: Getting Rid Of Nail Polish

This first appeared on my old blog, Atheist Journeys. 


I like having nail polish in ever color I can, so it was scary to get rid of even one bottle. I found a system that worked for me and let me get rid of some colors painlessly, though.
 I got rid of about twenty-five bottles, and I still have about fifty-four bottles (collected over the years, almost all of them cheaper brands, and once I got multiple bottles when my favorite, rare color was being discontinued). I'm still going through them, and maybe I'll get rid of more, but right now I have both a huge rainbow of colors, and I hopefully have only what I'm likely to use.
Here's what I've found to be helpful. It was painful to even think about getting rid of some, at first, because I've gotten rid of nail polish and regretted it, before. So I go slow when going through anything, and make sure that I don't think I'll want it again.
Use these tips, if you like. I hate it when books or people try to tell me what to do, so apply these suggestions as far as you want to apply them:

1) Get rid of the colors that are so thin, that you need four coats and a strong light just to see them. I like thicker nail polishes, and richer colors, so that I don't have to waste a lot of time putting on multiple coats.

2) Don't collect a whole series of colors. Or, unless you like them all, don't keep them all. This is your personal collection, and if some colors are too thin, or you don't like them, they're not worthy of you.

3) Write down a list of colors and brands you get rid of, if it makes you feel better, so you can get them back later if you regret it. This doesn't work for discontinued colors, but you might be able to get them online, or a shade like it, if you really want to get rid of a discontinued color.

4) When you have two or more shades that are just off of each other, put them on side-by-side and compare them, then keep the color you like best. You may discover, also, that one color is very thin, and so you can get rid of that one in favor of the more vivid one. Ironically, Avon's Vivid Violet is not vivid at all. More vivid was its cousin, Avon's Decadence. Avon is very thin sometimes, if it's not a dark color.

5) I got rid of some nail art tools and decals, because I don't care to do nail art. You may like it, but if you don't, then you won't miss the supplies. You could always use sponges and toothpicks, if really you want to do nail art.

6) I also got rid of some colors I just didn't like, at least as much as other colors. They were all fairly common shades, so I could get them back, or something similar, if I wanted. I may not have grey, or gold glitter, but I could easily get it, if I really wanted it.

7) When buying nail polish, apply what I call the Rule of Immediate Consumption: If you don't want to wear it that very night, then don't buy it. You can get multiple shades, even with this rule, if you love them. But if you don't want to wear them right away, then you probably don't love them. I apply this rule to clothes, too, even if I don't get to wear them right away, as long as I would wear them right away.

8) I have a small plastic box with all of my nail polishes, and I like to arrange them in rows (as much as I can with the different-shaped bottles), and in rainbow order (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple), then pink, white, black, gold, and silver. This way, I know exactly where a color is supposed to be, and I like rainbows because they're both beautiful and gay (like me). So this arrangement makes me smile. I don't worry about sorting the individual shades within the colors in any specific order. Extra bottles of the same shade go after all of the other colors, so they don't get in the way.


Nail polish doesn't take up much room at all, but sometimes it's really nice to have fewer shades to "have" to choose from, if you want to paint your nails. It's all about balancing the urge to have every color and shade possible, with the urge to get rid of everything. I have to do this with my clothes, too, since I love having a lot of nice clothes to wear, but I also love having a few favorites to wear over and over again.

Minimalism And Buying: The Rule of Immediate Consumption

This first appeared on my old blog, Atheist Journeys. 

 
Right after the shooting at my school, Umpqua Community College, I coped with the shock of it by getting rid of an enormous amount of things, and adopting two new kittens. I would highly recommend The Kitten Method to anyone going through grief or shock. I still love my babies, Little Ernesto and Lulu Applesnoo.
I got rid of a lot of things, over the years, but I also learned how to know what I would love, and what I would get rid of right after buying it. One of the most useful tools I thought of is something I call the Rule of Immediate Consumption.
I ask myself if I would wear, eat, or use the item right this minute, if I could. If I didn't like the shade of nail polish enough to wear it that night, I probably wouldn't wear it eventually. If I didn't like that shirt enough to wear it the next time I went out, it was not going to be one of my favorites.
This made me feel good, to have a clear way to know what I really like, and what I only half-like. I saved a lot of money, too, and don't have too many half-liked clothes. It's always the stuff you half-like that causes the most problems, that you can't decide about.
I also try to remember my favorite shirt or coat, etc, and think whether I like the item as much as my current favorite. If I don't like it as much, then I won't choose to wear it, anyway, or I'll wear it but wish I was wearing something else.
I don't buy very many clothes anymore, and I don't feel deprived, either.

Minimalism: Stuffed With Stuff

 This first appeared on my old blog, Atheist Journeys.

There was a time when I had a pretty lucrative (for me) job, where I made more money than I had ever made in my life. And with my penchant for shopping at thrift shops, it went a long way. I was excited and happy at first, finally able to afford nice things, and able to buy them without feeling guilty.
But after a while, my bedroom felt rather cramped (at least for me), and the choice of what to wear became almost overwhelming. I had heard that some people felt bad for the clothes they never wore, but I felt bad about the clothes I never wore. I felt bad because when I saw how much I had accumulated, I felt that I had wasted money. I had just wanted nice things, and when shopping I often felt out of control of my spending.
When I was growing up, I had gotten rid of a lot of things that I later regretted. Some things I was tired of looking at; other things I thought were demonic (or an idol, causing me so much joy that I was sure God was jealous; I am lucky my mom saved some of my favorite childhood toys). I had gotten rid of some stuffed animals in order to be more grown-up. Many of my favorite clothes and toys, too, I had gotten rid of as an effort to please God with my charity, and hadn't really wanted to do it.
I had lost many beloved animals (and even a few humans) over the years, and it was hard to "lose" anything else. Letting something go, sometimes even in a store, felt overwhelming sometimes. So I kept many things that did not make me happy, but that I was afraid to part with.
And now, as I looked around my room, I felt physically full, "stuffed with stuff."
When I was getting ready for school, I chose a scarf. These are more scarves than I will wear in one winter, I thought. I felt ashamed of how many things I had.
I mentioned to my mother how afraid I was of regretting the loss of my things, and she was very sympathetic. "You won't regret it. We'll put your unwanted clothes in boxes and sell them in the classifieds. You can get back some of your money."
That made me feel better, that I could have something from the "bad money" that I felt like I had thrown away. I also believed that any charity would probably welcome money rather than stuff, as they could have their money right away and not when something sold.
I don't shop nearly as much as I used to, and usually it is not my idea. It has taken a lot of work, and learning a few tricks (and how to comfort myself when I had to let something go), but I feel much more in control of my money and my things.

Here is what I learned from that experience:

1) The hardest decisions to make are about the things that you half-like, half-hate, or that you can't make up your mind about.
The things I loved were easy to keep; the things I hated were easy to get rid of; but the in-between things, the ones I couldn't decide on, were the hardest. I sorted my things into three piles: Yes, No, and Maybe. The Maybe items I went back through, judging them individually.

2) Trust yourself to make the right decision.
"Sometimes, I just grow out of things," my mother said. If that was true, then maybe I had grown out of some things too. Maybe I had made wise decisions for the time, but they no longer suited me. I had not wanted to grow out of things; I had wanted to have nice things that I kept for the long term, but maybe I would be happier with a smaller supply and a couple fewer choices.

3) Understand when something you own is a "better version" of something else.
I had two similar pink scarves, but got rid of one, because I understood that I would always pick the other one, if I wanted to wear pink. The one I kept, I liked better. I have also asked myself, in a store, if I own something better at home. If the answer is yes, no matter how good a deal this new thing is, I will always pick the one I already had, and so it would be useless to buy another.

4) Only buy something you would use, eat, or wear right away. I usually only buy things that I can't wait to wear, though that could be more than one shirt, scarf, or what have you. If it's second-rate, then I won't wear it much anyway, and when I do, I won't feel very good in it, because it won't be one of my favorites. 

5) Divide your clothes into three categories, depending on how much you like them. Most of the third-rate clothes should probably go (take pictures of the item and label, if you wish, so you can get it back if you really want it and regret getting rid of it later). The second-rate clothes are probably your biggest pile, but those are probably the clothes that you still don't want to part with. The first-rate clothes are favorites that you want to wear over and over again. They're probably your smallest pile. Even though these are your favorites, I would suggest keeping at least some of the second-rate clothing, because you might be like me and want some variety once in a while. In this way, you can put your "extra" clothes away in a box or something, and "shop" in your closet if you get bored with your favorites.


Going through my stuff and getting rid of some things is still one of my favorite things to do, because I enjoy what I have left even more. (Right now I'm going through my blog and publishing the stuff that I always meant to publish, but never got around to!) But I still love having a lot of nice clothes to choose from. You can do both, if you're willing to put in a little bit of effort. :)

Minimalism: Create A "Mess Box"

This article first appeared on my old blog, Atheist Journeys. It's a favorite of mine.

I like to watch minimalism videos on Youtube, including ones where people are cleaning out their rooms and closets for the camera. I've seen them lament that their countertops or dressers have become a "catch-all" for all kinds of things that are out of place. But that puzzles me, because I think that catch-alls should be built into any system of organization.
I have a "mess box" that I put the mess in, temporarily, so that it doesn't clutter up my dresser and floor. I keep it under my bed. Anything that is out of place, that I just bought and need to put away but am too tired to do so, or that I find on the floor, goes in the box. If I did not have a mess box, then the mess would be out in my bedroom, cluttering it up and cluttering up my mind. I have a designated catch-all, so my dresser and floor don't become accidental catch-alls and let things get in my way.

I have at least two mess boxes, in fact, at any given time. I have one for bigger things--comic books to put away, things that I've purchased that day, papers, craft supplies out of place, etc--and one for smaller things. The smaller one is only about the size of a small shoebox, and all of the little things go in there--gum, mustard packets, beads that need to get put away, lip balm, odd bits of ribbon, etc. I fill up the little one before using the big one, unless the item is too big.
In this way, the mess is contained, and I keep my clarity of mind. I like to go through my stuff, so when I have the time, I go back through one of the mess boxes, putting things in the appropriate piles and putting them away.
 If my bedroom is so messy that I don't know where to start, I put everything in the mess boxes (as many as I need), and then go through the boxes. It is much less overwhelming to go through a box of stuff than to go through the top of a dresser. Everything unnecessary on the dresser goes into a box, and I deal with it then. And it's not overwhelming anymore! It's such a relief!
Anything I have to deal with later, goes in the box. Anything I stumble around, goes in the box. Anything that is hard to put away at the moment, goes in the box. It makes everything so simple! There is a danger that the boxes will fill up, but when they do (and most of the time, well before they do), I simply go through the boxes.
Sometimes I go through the big mess box, and put the little things into the little mess box, to deal with later. It helps to deal with the big things, if you're not overwhelmed with the little things, and vice versa! Little things are particularly overwhelming to me, so I especially love the little mess box. But the big things are also so much easier to deal with, if they're all gathered in a box.

I have many different kinds of mess boxes too. I have one for art supplies--pencils, charcoal, paper pads I'm not using, anything like that goes into that box; I don't have room to put all of my art supplies in one place, so they go here before being put away. I have one for herbs and teas, one for non-perishable food, one for yarn and other crafts. A drawer in my dresser is a catch-all for clean clothes that I could wear again, until I put them away into the other drawers. And of course I have a hamper for my dirty clothes, until I put them in the laundry room. I also have an arts and crafts mess box, near my chair where I work, so that I don't scatter little things around my side table and floor.

My life has become so much neater and simpler since I discovered this trick. It is so much easier to put everything into a box, even if I am putting it away right away. I scan the floor or dresser, figure out the things that don't need to be there, and put them in the box. Then it becomes easier to deal with them, because I know when I'm done cleaning and organizing and putting things away. I am done when the box is empty (or nearly so, though it is only a temporary home for stuff). It's much harder to determine when a dresser or the floor is clear, however.
This also makes it easier to group like items together, before putting them away. If there is an eraser on the dresser, and one on the floor, you have to get out the art-supply box twice just to put them both away while cleaning. But if everything out of place is in a box, then all you have to do is go through the box, picking out all of the brushes, erasers, charcoal sticks, and other art supplies, and putting them away all at once. And this is just one example.

This makes getting rid of stuff easier, too, since you are going through just one box, and not a whole room at once.

This also makes finding things so much easier! I know that if I'm missing something, there is a good chance that it is in one of the mess boxes, since I put everything in there. The only things that lie scattered about my floor are cat toys, and I try to limit those to the ones I actually see the cats playing with.

Now, this mess box is not the same as the box where everything goes, that does not have a home elsewhere.
Things may go from the mess box to the miscellaneous box, to be put away, but I don't put the messes in the miscellaneous box. That just creates more confusion. Little things might be put in baggies and go in the miscellaneous box or some other place, but I don't leave them in the mess box as their home. That just creates more confusion.
The mess box is a temporary home. It is a box that, if everything is put away, it is intentionally left empty, to be filled in case of mess or if something else comes into the house.
And I have at least two "empty" boxes at all times, a big one and a smaller one, because nothing makes a big box seem messy and overwhelming like little things cluttering it up. And some things are too big to be put in the smaller box, and so end up becoming messes in my room and my life.

It is such a relief, since I discovered this system. When my bedroom is messy, I feel overwhelmed. But now I have a simple solution, and even going through the boxes is much easier than sorting through a whole surface, floor, or room. I can go through either mess box, while watching Youtube videos and relaxing, and I don't even have to get up to sort through these things! I do have to get up to put them away, but I only do that when I've found all of the items in a given category. And when I do put them away, I know exactly where they go, and I'm not wandering aimlessly looking for something among the things that are actually supposed to be there.

LGBT: Coming Out Happily And Gaily

My mom recently mentioned to me that I might have PTSD from my bullying uncle, whose homophobia is what upsets me nowadays. So I've been thinking a lot lately about what I want to do about him. I may be "sick" from family gatherings, including holidays, for a while. And as I eventually want to be fully myself, even around my family, I am thinking about when and how to come out as gay/bisexual. (I've seen people use it interchangeably, so I got in the habit; and, basically, unless I accidentally meet an exceptional, LGBT-supporting man, it's probably going to be another woman, for me.)
I was really disturbed by anticipating his reaction, but then I thought: What's the use of being gay, if it's not in both senses of the word? 

I don't want to be defensive and a good arguer; that should not be my goal in life. I shouldn't have to defend anything. I want to change the world, but I'd rather do it with the example of the awesome but "normal" life I live. I would rather be someone who laughs off others' condemnation, rather than engaging with it. And that takes hard work, but I realized that that should be my goal.
Sometimes it's a matter of privilege or safety, how much one has to worry about others' reactions, or how much one can be out. But personally, the more I visualized defending myself, the more defensive and defeated I became. "He's never going to listen!" I thought in frustration.
But I then had that thought about coming out in a happy way, and when I visualized saying, "I'm gay," with a big smile on my face, it felt good. "It doesn't matter if he doesn't listen," I thought. And maybe, if I practiced enough, I wouldn't even care, at least for the most part.
 (Visualizing in your mind, and practicing saying things over and over, is a very effective strategy for gaining confidence with anything. Say what you have to say about one hundred times, to yourself--and in the voice that makes you happiest while saying it.)

Curious about others' beliefs, I once found myself watching a video (which I can't find now) by a pagan about how to come out of the "broom closet." (I'm not sure one's beliefs have the same magnitude as one's orientation or gender, but I guess it might depend on where one lives and who one's family or coworkers are.)
This woman said that people will largely react the same way you say it: If you inform them of what you are in a happy, relaxed voice, they will often want to know more--but if you do it with an uncertain look on your face, or say it in a negative way, they will take it as very negative and be concerned for you. (Of course, she acknowledged that some will react negatively no matter what, but she was talking about most people.)
I have no idea how much of this is true for LGBT people, and under which circumstances. But there is no reason, in my mind, not to be happy while coming out, if you can manage it. I want to be able to say, "I'm gay--in both senses of the word!"

Best of all, I remembered this heartwarming story, about a seven-year-old who happily announces that he's gay to anyone who will listen, and talks about his celebrity "boyfriend." I remember, at age seven, making a pact with my best friend that if we grew up to be girls who married girls, that we would marry each other. And I happily told the adults at the conservative Christian school too. Luckily for me, they were probably too speechless to do anything but nod, because I don't remember any negative reactions at all--and I would have remembered that, because I was a very sensitive kid!
Reading that article the first time, I thought, "How wonderful, to be at that age with no inhibitions or taboos on that." And I once was just like that, though I only thought of being gay as "maybe someday," an unlikely event but one that I should plan for nonetheless, by picking out a prospective bride for myself.
I grew up, and learned what I was supposed to believe about homosexuality. What my uncle reinforced with his shouting matches any time I came even remotely close to disagreeing with him--if I even acknowledged that there were different interpretations of the bible that people believed. By the time I was twenty-three, and already affirming and knowledgeable about LGBT issues, my first thought upon having "love at first sight" feelings for another girl was, "I can't be a lesbian! My life will be so much harder!"
I hope this little boy doesn't have to deal with the shit I have had to deal with, what I still have to deal with today, in my own mind. And I'm going to try to be like a little child, again. Just reading this article, and others by his very loving and supportive mother, gives me hope that my spirit does not have to be broken, that it doesn't have to be difficult, at least not forever.
Check out this quote from the article:

"Since that day, any time the word 'gay' has come into conversation, he has happily announced to those around him, 'I'm gay!'...Saying 'I'm gay' is his way of telling people: this is something I like about myself."

I have no idea how my family will react, but that's exactly how I want to be. Part of this will involve not caring how they react, but the more I think of coming out happily, just like this little boy, the more insignificant their reactions seem by comparison. It makes me happy, to practice coming out happily--gaily! I want to be able to say, "This is something I like about myself." And I like myself best when I'm happy--gay--so because one sense of the word is a given, I'm going to practice being the other one, too. I want to be both.

LGBT: The Little Gay Girl In Christian School

 This is a favorite of mine, republished from my old blog, Atheist Journeys. But since atheists aren't necessarily my target audience anymore, I switched to this blog, so I didn't feel any pressure to write about religion. I will republish some of my favorites on this blog, because I had such fun writing them.
 

I went to a very conservative Christian school when I was younger, then homeschooled through that same school, starting in fifth grade. This was the late 90s and early 2000s, and it surprises me how little I heard of LGBT issues back then. It also surprises me how very un-homophobic my conservative Christian (at the time) mother was. (My dad didn't really have an opinion, or didn't seem to.)
I remember knowing what "gay" was before I started first grade. I thought it was so silly that some boys liked other boys, and some girls liked other girls. I remember thinking that it caused a lot of problems, since you don't know who "dips" whom when the couple is dancing on a date.
Or who wears a dress when they are getting married. That was a problem, even though you could simply take turns dipping each other. I concluded that it must be that one boy decided he was okay with wearing the wedding dress. It's not a real wedding without a big fancy dress, after all. Maybe there were even boys who wanted to wear the dress. Maybe they both wore a dress. It would be such a very sad and pathetic wedding, after all, if there wasn't a big fancy dress to look at.
With girls, they must both wear a dress. Who wouldn't take the opportunity, after all? And it might be an even better wedding with TWO pretty dresses!
I finally concluded that they must talk about what they each want, and work something out for both of them.
"Do you want me to dip you?" I imagined one boy saying to another. "Or do you dip me?"
"I'll pay for the meal this time, and you pay for the meal next time."
"I know you wanted to wear the dress, but I want to wear a dress, too. We should have two dresses. Okay?"
I surmised at around age six that communication was very important to same-sex relationships. I didn't see the Disney princesses saying "Do you want me to kiss you?" or "Do you want to wear a dress when we get married?" but I'm beginning to think now that they most certainly should have! The modern princess should not be afraid to ask, "Do you want me to rescue you, or do you want to rescue me? Here's what I would prefer..."

I married my Barbies to each other, when I got bored of straight weddings. I wondered what Ken would look like in a dress, though most Barbie dresses I had didn't even fit him. It was a bummer. 

My mom must have explained what "gay" was to me, though I don't remember that. And she must not have said anything negative about gay people, because I never thought anything bad of it, except that it was "silly" (though straight relationships seemed silly sometimes), and that it was problematic because one did not automatically know who did or wore what.
She must have simply said that some boys liked each other, and some girls liked each other--because that's what I knew of it. That's the most liberal and neutral was to phrase it, that I can think of. And she apparently thought it was a sin, at the time. But she was still tolerant, and still not condemning, even letting me draw my own conclusions at six years old. That's my mom.
My mom in later years said that a neighbor of ours remarked one time, "That stupid Anita Bryant! It's none of her business, how other people live their lives!" And my mom remembered thinking that that made a lot of sense.

I remember one time playing around and laughing in my parents' bed, while both of them were lying down. Everyone was laughing and joking, and at one point, I jokingly said that someone or some couple (I forget who) was gay. My mom smiled and said, "You better say, 'homosexual,' instead. That's a better word."
But I knew instantly that I could NOT say that word, because: 1) It was too big a word for me to possibly remember, and 2) It had the word "sex" in it, which was a very, very bad word!
My dad said, "No, it's okay to say 'gay.' That's not a bad word." Then they talked about it for a minute and agreed, and I was relieved. I didn't have to say the word "sex," and I didn't have to use a word I didn't even remember or know how to pronounce. And I had never thought that "gay" could be associated with "sex," either. That didn't really change my views on it, I don't think.
(The only time I ever got brave enough to say the word "sex" was when I saw Monica Lewinski on TV, and I remember I whispered, "Daddy, what's oral sex?" I've been told he said, "It means she kissed his peepee.")

Then I went to Christian school, starting in first grade when I was seven. I made a pact with my best friend at the time that, if we grew up to be like the boys who married boys, or the girls who married girls, that we would marry each other. Yes, it was my idea. I'm not entirely sure that she knew about those people, before I said something, though she did agree.
I remember telling at least one teacher there. She said something like, "Oh, okay." She must have been surprised, or speechless. I also told my mom. She said about the same thing, or maybe nothing, though she didn't care as much. The grownups around me didn't respond much, either positively or negatively.
(And surprise, surprise, I grew up to be bisexual!)

I never thought anything of gay marriage at the time (in 1998, when I started first grade at age seven). I never thought of marriage licenses or who could get them. And I never thought that God didn't like gay people or couples. No one ever even mentioned that possibility to me at the time, even in the Christian school.
If I was going to school in first grade, now, I think I would have a very different experience. Gay rights were not making headway then like they are now (and thank goodness they are now). Children of conservative parents grow up today in a totally different environment, and they probably would not be so free with accepting gay people and couples, or thinking that one day they might themselves be gay (if they don't already know).
There is more pressure among conservatives nowadays, I believe, to be against homosexuality. I think that is sad, even for those who feel they have to be against it. (But I still have to fight even those I pity, as much as I can with my votes and such, so that they don't harm others!) Fortunately, more and more Christians are becoming accepting, slowly but surely.

A few years later, when I was about ten or eleven, I would know that being gay was considered bad. But I would also watch Will & Grace with my mom, and laugh along with her. It was a rather complicated situation, but eventually I learned that I could be affirming, even as a Christian.
 I was so happy when I learned that. I am convinced that being against something, that does not harm anyone and brings love and joy, really takes its toll on the happiness of the person who is against it.
When I was six years old, everything seemed so simple; everything made sense--just marry whomever you loved, even if it was "silly." Maybe someday the whole world, or at least most of it, can be so simple.

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

LGBT: Self-Hatred May Not Be Sexuality

I sometimes discover things about myself when feeding my chickens. It provides a good time to think about things, especially when I sit and feed my disabled trans-rooster, Antonio (he started crowing, so I guess that even though he used to look just like a hen, and had no spurs when he was younger, that was "Antonia" coming out as a male).
I was thinking about why it was so important, and so terrifying, to me to come out as bisexual to my family--and especially to my uncle, who shits all over LGBT people in one way or the other, it seems, almost every time I see him. And I realized something.
Long before I knew I was bisexual, I hated myself for being "weak."
I don't use the words "hate" or "self-hatred" lightly. It was more than anger that I have felt towards myself. I have wanted to hurt and punish myself. I have hated myself.
And it was very early on. I remember being as young as seven, or maybe younger; seven is the age I remember. And I didn't find out that a girl could get my heart racing just like a guy, until I was twenty-three, about two years ago.
But all of my life, I have felt a lot of pressure to be "tough" or "strong." I hated myself for being hurt in my heart by his bullying, especially to such a painful degree. I always knew my mother loved me, but she basically told me to let it go. I couldn't, though, so I had absolute hatred for myself, because I couldn't let it go.
Worse was the way she phrased it. "He's just giving you a bad time." An adult would take this as, "He's just teasing/playing with you," but a child will take it literally. I heard, "He is making you have a bad life, and I don't care.  He's JUST giving you a bad time."
Then there was my grandmother, saying so sweetly and sincerely, "He just does that, because he loves you."
So I was crazy and too sensitive--too "weak"--when I was hurt by him. And I hated myself for it, all my life.

My mom finally believed me that I wasn't choosing to hold onto what he did, that I couldn't just "let it go," when I talked about him "tickling" me: "I couldn't breathe--I felt like I was drowning!" She said, "I think you have PTSD."
So now that she knew I feared for my life, and felt like I was dying, there was a label for it, and now that there was a label for it, she knew I wasn't choosing to dwell on it. (Though frankly, she should have believed me even if there wasn't a label to attach to how I felt, but the fact that people need labels to legitimize things, to themselves or others, is a whole other topic.)
And potentially having trauma and PTSD makes it a little easier not to blame myself, even deep down, for being too "weak" not to come out, or to just put him in his place in general.
Every time I'm around him, especially when he shits on the people he doesn't agree with (anyone he doesn't like), I feel scared, just like I would have if he had waterboarded me.
 (And he never can disagree, without expressing what I can only describe as hatred--and I am very cautious with that term, because I don't like it being thrown around lightly. So I literally can't hear this very contrary contentious individual disagree with anything, LGBT or otherwise, without being triggered by it, because I'm traumatized and afraid of him.)
My mom also speculated that it might have actually been "easier" for me, in a way, if his abuse had been sexual (or he touched me in a "sexual" place; I think he got turned on, in a way, by having complete power over people, like women and those very small).
 I suspected what she had, too, though I have no idea if it is true or not, and I'm just lucky that I don't know. But everyone knows that sexual abuse is very traumatic; and with other forms of abuse, not so much. So I ended up blaming myself for being "weak." And my mom didn't believe me that in telling me to let it go, she was reinforcing this, shaming me for being too "weak" to let it go.

If you can't let something go, it may be because of PTSD or something else that is wrong--some kind of trauma. If you can't let something go, it may not be your fault, and there may be things you can do to make things easier on yourself. You may not be "too weak" or have a "weak" character.
I also hated myself for being too "weak" to get my driver's license, for a long time. But I've had a traumatic experience when I first learned to drive, with an angry drunken man following and threatening my mother and me, while I was driving, and still learning the very basic fundamentals of driving, while fearing for my life. And my first driving tester was so condescending and cruel that he reminded me of my uncle. So this was not me being "too weak" either.
And I hated myself for having too "weak" a character to continue to read my bible and pray, and struggle to get close to God, like I had always done. It was just too painful, and still is, and I don't even know or care if there's anyone there anymore. But people who lose their faith are absolutely despised and vilified in evangelical culture, and guess what I did to myself when it became too painful to try to reach out to God? I have had this struggle not to hate myself for these "weaknesses" and "character flaws" all of my life.

To my knowledge, I don't hate myself for being gay--or at least, not nearly as much as I have always hated myself for being "weak." My uncle's hateful voice is in my head all the time, any time I watch, read, or write anything even remotely gay. This is because I dread, every day, the next time I see him, even though I see him only every few weeks.
I used to dread seeing my grandparents, on my father's side (not my uncle's parents) in much the same way, until my grandmother and my family had a huge falling out and I didn't speak to or see them for at least six months. Now, I only see them a few times a year (and they were not nearly as bad as he was). But this made me feel better, whether it was because my grandparents know we can do that again, or because I spent a few months totally free of the worry of seeing them again.
So I'm thinking of being "sick" for family gatherings for a while, even as the holidays are coming up. (Even though I shouldn't be excluded from the family; he should.) And I'm going to try searching for exercises for PTSD and trauma, maybe even see a therapist for it to give me more techniques. Even if I don't "officially" have PTSD, these things can only help. But if they don't work completely, I may have to be "sick" at convenient times, at least for a while.
And if this doesn't work...well...maybe I'll have to have a falling out with him, so he knows to respect boundaries, or he's not in my life at all. I'll have to do it by phone, because of the trauma he has caused me.
I wonder if coming out will start an argument with him...

Monday, September 19, 2016

LGBT: Someday I Will Be Fully Out

It's not easy, thinking about my extended family, whom I see relatively often, and wondering when I have to be around my homophobic uncle, when he's next going to shit on LGBT people (often in subtle and new ways I'm not prepared for), and what to say if he does. I am very fortunate to have supportive parents and friends, but I think about coming out (as bisexual) to the rest of my mother's family literally every day--because now that I have my driver's license, this is the next big, difficult, "impossible" thing I really want to do in my life.
It's also really tiring to wonder what he's going to say, how I should react, how he will react to my reacting, how my grandparents will react to my reacting (if they find out), whether they will find out...
It helps to practice certain phrases over and over, but those only get me so far. What really has given me strength lately, when I remember to do it, is thinking about my future life, and my possible future wife.
Someday I will be out, completely, to everyone. Someday I will talk openly and comfortably about the women I find attractive, or the latest woman I went on a date with (if I'm not too lazy to date). Not just to my mother, either. I will slowly get better at being fully myself--someday, even around him, and the rest of my family. And if he doesn't like it, or he criticizes me for it, I will tell him, "You don't have to be in my life." (This may be the most important phrase, other than the initial coming out phrases, that I practice.)

I don't know for sure if I'll ever get there, but I didn't think I would ever get my driver's license either--at least not for ten more years. So I hold onto this. I want to be more fully myself, in all areas, and with all people; not just with them, and not just with this. Sometimes I don't even know how to practice "being myself", but I keep practicing my phrases, and visualizing my future life.
I am fascinated by LGBT characters in media, and things written by LGBT people, especially couples, about their everyday lives. They seem so free and easy, even about dating, and talking about dating. I try to see myself in that way.

A few days ago, my grandfather went to the hospital with "chest pains," which turned out to be a shoulder injury--nowhere near the heart (last time it was his spleen hurting, right below his heart, so I wasn't that worried about him; I just wish he ate better and knew more about human anatomy).
Once I found out for sure that he was okay, I remember thinking that if we had lost him, a small part of me would have felt relieved, because I wouldn't have had to worry about coming out and possibly grieving him because of his background. Even though I truly love him, and love seeing my grandparents any chance I get.
And part of that was that I'm actually relatively okay right after losing a person or beloved animal. (Everyone thinks that grieving people need lots of comfort and kind words right after the loss, but I don't, and I find it very irritating--especially because they don't understand that my needs and grief don't just go away with time, they actually get worse. I also wonder if they actually care months after the loss or the shock.)
So I would be relatively okay right after he was gone (though I would just be very well off for the circumstances), and maybe that's why I imagined the relief.
So it would seem that I shouldn't come out to him, or that I shouldn't come out to my uncle and risk him finding out. But that thought is unbearable, too. Especially because if my awful uncle gets to be his awful self around me, shouldn't I get to be my rainbow self around him?
And a part of me also wants my Papa to know the real me, as much as possible. I thought of the possibility of saying or thinking, "I never got to tell him I'm gay," and I had mixed feelings about that. I know if I lose him before I come out, I will always wonder how he would have reacted. And yet I don't feel ready to just bring the subject up. I don't want to lie if it comes up, but I don't feel ready to bring it up yet. Our conversations in the last few years, for the most part, have been no deeper than the funny antics of our animals, or what I want to do for a career.

But whatever happens, someday I will be out. It seems impossible right now, but getting my driver's license was impossible too (for those who don't understand, it really WAS that emotionally difficult for me, for whatever reason; please try to understand, even if you don't have the same exact difficulty). I was right all along about my license--once I got it, impossible things were just a little bit less impossible. I had suspected that all along, and I was right.
It may be years until I come out, or accidentally out myself. Or it may be tomorrow. But I cling to the visions of me dancing with another girl; holding her hand and laughing and kissing; or talking about whom I like, to my family and others, in a perfectly comfortable and completely honest voice.

Sometimes I still can't believe I have my license; it makes me so happy and relieved to think about it, and I see myself differently now, in a very good way.
 But if I had it all to do over again, I would spend less time agonizing over when I would finally get my license, and more time visualizing driving down the highway by myself, enjoying the alone time, in complete control of my own destiny. The thought of that still makes me so happy. 
You have to hold on to your happy thoughts. Someday, I will be out--completely out! I practice saying, "I like her," "She's cute," "Someday, my husband or wife..." Positive statements. I envision myself saying them, to people, to my family, even to my mother (who always loves me and tries to let me be myself around her, though I still have difficulty talking about my sexuality to anyone but a keyboard).
Someday I'll be out, fully and completely out! And if I live in that reality enough, I hope it becomes my everyday reality. 
Someday I will be fully out. And it will be absolute wonderful. It's so wonderful, in fact, that the thought of it actually makes my life better now. And the more I think of it, the more natural and comfortable it feels. It feels amazing. I know coming out is a lifelong process, but someday I will be much more comfortable with that process, and--as much as people don't just assume I'm straight--fully out.
Someday, I will be fully, all the way out. And that is a beautiful thing, and it is my happy thought. Someday I will be fully, all the way out.

Saturday, September 17, 2016

Minimalism: How To Get Rid Of Books

 This was originally published last May on my old blog, Atheist Journeys. But since atheists are not necessarily my target audience anymore, I've switched blogs recently, and it helps me feel freer to write about whatever I want, not just getting away from religious perfectionism. I want to republish some of my favorite articles from the other blog, here, and this is one of them.

My ideal situation with books is to have a relatively few number, that I like to read over and over, and enjoy every time. And I'm almost there, now. I like to read a little bit of one book, then pick up another, etc. It takes a long time, usually, for me to finish a book, this way. But I like it. I don't get bored so easily, this way. I hate checking out library books, since I only have three weeks to finish a book, if I can't renew it. But I haven't bought a book brand-new in years, and I don't buy books often, so I don't spend very much money on books, anyway.
And I don't feel obligated to finish them, to start reading at the beginning (unless it's fiction), to read them straight through, or to read the boring parts or chapters. I pick up a book, read a little (opening to a random page, if it's non-fiction, because I like to do that), see if it's interesting to me--and with most books, I immediately get rid of them, because they don't hold my interest. It's taken years to get where I am now, with my attitude towards books, but anyone can work towards getting here, if this is what they want. And I still sometimes struggle with feeling like I have to finish a book, or wondering what information I will miss if I throw it out.
But I'm also very lucky, in that lately I have a lot of books that I love to read, even if it's just in tiny pieces here and there. I've got rid of thousands of books over the years, but I have about two or three hundred that I would love to read (and that includes everything from Chilton's car repair manuals, to "I Spy" picture books, so they're not all wordy or "smart.") But I'm always alert, when I'm reading, for whether a book is becoming boring and needs to be culled, so two or three hundred books is not as overwhelming as it sounds.
Yet I often have a dilemma: Do I choose to read the books I like first, or the books I don't suspect I will like, so that I can stop reading and get rid of them if they're bad? That's the question I struggle with all the time. I try to balance both approaches. Sometimes I even think, "This is good, but after I finish this section, I'm getting rid of the whole book." Or I decide that after I read it again once, out it goes.

With some books, I want to learn the information they have in them, but in spite of being excited about the subject of the book, the book itself is not that interesting. This happens a lot with feminist and LGBT books. I skip around, looking for interesting parts, and sometimes I am very thorough. But ultimately, if it is disappointing, I get rid of it, and vow to look for another book on the same subject that looks better. (Almost all used books, especially a few years old, can be bought on ebay or Thriftbooks.com for about $4.00, which includes shipping.)
Just because I don't have many (or for that matter, any) feminist or LGBT books, doesn't mean I'm not a proud feminist or LGBT ally. Don't think that the book is the part of you that you like about yourself or want to become.

Some books have been keepsakes, because my little brother (twelve years younger than me) teethed on them, or my late baby bunnies tore them up. But I didn't want to read them, much less keep them. So I took pictures of them, so that I could remember the bite marks or the shredded pages, then I got rid of them. If I really miss them, I can get books of the same exact title, and tear them up in a similar way or have the almost-thirteen-year-old Cody bite them again. Fortunately, I have not had to do these things so far. I'll bet Cody would bite a book for me, though; he's a pretty good kid.

If it's hard to get rid of books, you can have a notebook with a list of books you are getting rid of. You can write all of them down, or just the best ones, but if you want them back, then you can remember what they are, and get them back. I have a notebook that is designated only for this list, so that I have plenty of room to add to it, and I know exactly where the list is. I write the book's title and the last name of the author, or one of the authors. After a while, you may not feel the need to write down every book title anymore. I only write down the best of the castoffs, anymore. Some books are really good to read--but only once. Or sometimes I want to see what else the author has written, but I don't want to keep her books that I have already read. This makes it much easier to part with them.

With fiction, I personally am very picky. Literally the only fiction I have right now is the Harry Potter series. I also have two fiction books, in German, since I enjoy the language and like to read them aloud, even if I am out of practice and don't understand all of what I'm reading. But I don't count them in the same category as the English-language fiction.
If an English-language fiction book bores me from the start, then I skip around, and if I still can't find anything interesting in later chapters, out it goes. I am reading the Harry Potter series straight through from the beginning, but that is rare for me. I often skip entire chapters, to read only about my favorite characters or plot points (with the rare fiction book I like). I dog-ear the pages I skip, but I never go back to them, anyway.
I don't have too many German-language books, either (fiction or non), since I would rather have one or two favorites, to read over and over, than be overwhelmed by many books.

Some people say to get a Kindle and read books that way, but that's nonsense. Kindle books are usually much more expensive than regular used books, I (like many others) like regular books better, and if a book is older than the 2000s (or even if it's newer), chances are that it's not on Kindle, anyway. The selection is relatively small, the prices are relatively big, and paper is easier on the eyes. I have a Kindle (a gift, which I still like having, just in case), but I rarely use it.
There are many Kindle books available for $0.99, but the ones I've gotten are not worthwhile, anyway. Some Kindle books are free, though those are classics that have no copyright. If you like those, and have a Kindle (or Kindle account on your computer) already, go for it. But if you don't have a Kindle or account already, you can probably find them online. The website for my local public library has a lot of books you can read online, that have no copyright--and thus, you can read as many as you want, at once, and they don't count on your checkout limit, like the newer online and audio books. Check out your library's website, and see if it has a similar system. I know in Oregon, at least, all libraries have that.

And most importantly, please don't feel the need to finish any books! Life is too short to read boring books. Sometimes it is hard to realize when exactly a book is getting boring, but you will get better at it as you practice. There is also nothing wrong in reading only what you want out of a book (even if it's very little), and then getting rid of it. It's your life--the one and only life you know for sure that you have--so read only what you love! :)

Friday, September 16, 2016

LGBT: 10 Ways To Not Get Restless In Your Rainbow Closet

I've got a bad case of closet fever.
 Someday, I dream of being fully out to my extended, evangelical family as bisexual. If I find love, I want to be like a Facebook friend of mine, who took his husband to a family reunion, of a Christian family, with no problems. I know if I'm single all my life, I will still be okay, and even still have a very good life. But I think it would be fun to meet some cute girl and walk down the street holding her hand, and why should I hide it if I meet someone special?
(I'm bisexual, but unless I accidentally find a really exceptional guy, I just see myself with a girl. I think "love," and unless it's a specific guy...it's not a guy that I think about.)
And I want to be like one of my favorite comic book characters, the Pied Piper, who very casually came out to his friend the Flash, when Flash was being ignorant and talking about "those guys." He acted like it was no big deal--because it wasn't! It shouldn't have to be a big production for me, either.
I once used the words "husband or wife" to describe my future spouse, and completely shocked my grandfather. I wasn't out yet, but the closet door was open. His poor memory may have closed it again, but that's not my fault. I think about having another opportunity every day--even though I don't want to mention it when they're driving me to my evening classes right now, lest I cause a traffic accident by surprising them, and die. 

I got my driver's license relatively late, at twenty-three. I remember obsessing literally every day over getting my driver's license, though it was years before I took my next test. And now, I obsess every day over getting up the courage to tell my homophobic uncle that I'm gay. And it could be years until I get the opportunity. It could also take a lot more practice to be fully myself, without being self-conscious. I still feel self-conscious about this subject around my own mother, even though we talk about everything and she is okay with it all. So I have a lot of practice being myself, all around, ahead of me.
When I was obsessing over my license, I think it was partly because I couldn't get what I wanted, and I felt so inadequate because of that. I think the same thing is happening again.
So I've come up with some coping strategies that I use in the meantime. Some of them just help me feel more prepared, and others actually make me very happy, so it's not just "coping." I thought I would share them with you.
(Note that not everyone can safely come out at this time, or wants to. If you are still being supported in any way by conservative family, or your family is likely to be violent, be very careful for the time being. Consider coming out by phone someday, when you are in a better place, self-supporting, and live far away. Be sure to wipe your browser history after reading this, in fact!)


 1) Know that there are many different kinds of homophobic remarks.
It doesn't help that my uncle finds ways to make homophobic comments in new and creative ways. ("Did you say, 'That's gay?'" when my mom tells a story about her boss acting stupidly. It caught me off-guard. I didn't think to say, "But I don't act like that!") So be aware of that, so you're not shocked and feeling bad that you didn't have a response.

2) Practice coming out in different ways, over and over again.
So I have no idea when I'll get to come out, and it could be years away. It helps to practice saying it in different ways, over and over again in my mind. ("Or girl, I'm not picky." "Getting married sounds great, and I'm so glad it's legal now!" "...my future husband or wife..." "Your church sounds great. Can I bring the wife and kids?" "Then I wouldn't want you at my wedding anyway, even if I marry a man." "That's between me and God." "You don't have to be in my life.")

3) Practice saying it in a calm voice.
A little tip is to also practice saying whatever you wish to say in a calm voice. It's so easy to get angry and loud when you're practicing at home, but when I'm with the actual person, I don't want to yell, even if I physically felt able to.

4) Know that your opportunity might be ten years away, and it might be tomorrow.
I thought it was impossible to get my driver's license, that it would be at least ten years before I did; I thought this only a few months before telling myself that this was just a "practice test" in my own mind, and finally getting it. So the golden, rainbow opportunity could also be a lot sooner than you think.

5) Prepare for the worst, but know that it might not be a big deal, after all. (Maybe, just maybe.)
I'm also not entirely sure how big a deal it would really be. My homophobic uncle had a big fight with my cousin about my cousin's first (that we know of) tattoo, but my grandfather, whom we all think of as old-fashioned, eventually asked to see it. (It was a quote about not fearing death, which my cousin could have been afraid to show his family.)

 6) Try to pick up on clues to future reactions, and prepare for them as much as you can.
 My homophobic uncle said that his problem with the tattoo was that my cousin said that he thought God wanted him to get it. My cousin said that he angrily shouted at him--and knowing him, I believe my cousin! I don't know if my cousin really thought that or not, but apparently my uncle thinks that he himself owns the copyright to God. Hence my practice with the phrases, "That's between me and God," and "You don't have to be in my life."
People say to mention LGBT people, and see how your family reacts. But frankly, I'm afraid to do that. If they're going to hurt me, the least they can do is know what they're doing. That would actually hurt less, because I know it would be their problem. And if they hurt me by criticizing people like me, I don't think I could stop myself from arguing and using the word "we."

7) But know you can't prepare for everything, and that is okay. You are still good enough. 
Tell yourself that, as much as you need to. "I am still good enough. I am good enough." Your self-esteem in general is very important at this time.

8) Practice a few easy phrases, over and over, rather than many phrases, a relatively few times.
I have a few comfortable phrases, and the more I practice saying them, every day, the more familiar they feel. It's very comforting. Write them down, if that helps you remember. And say it all at least a hundred times (in your estimation).

9) Always remember to keep your focus on the rewards. 
I dream about holding hands, kissing, and dancing with a cute girl, and that makes me happy. I'm going to focus on that, as much as I can, and the obstacles towards getting there seem smaller. It helps make it easier to be myself, too.

10) And above all, remember to love yourself.
If you don't love yourself all the time, tell yourself, "I love you," until you believe it! If you can't say it unless you believe it, practice in small steps (saying you love yourself only five times, for example), or at least seize the opportunities when you're having a good day and actually do believe good things about yourself. At least reinforce those beliefs, when you have them. And if you possibly can, talk kindly to yourself until those negative beliefs change. It's what you deserve. Treat yourself as kindly as you would a good friend who is struggling. Love yourself unconditionally, whether they do or not.

Sunday, September 11, 2016

Minimalist Facebook: How To Get Rid Of People

 Getting rid of people from my Facebook friends list is almost as satisfying as getting rid of stuff. I keep only those I truly like and care about, and the rest go bye-bye. It's such a relief! And I enjoy seeing posts only from those I really like.
Yes, you can unfollow people, and yes, you can customize your settings so that certain people do not see your posts. But if you can get rid of people, it's even better.
Hardly anyone is even offended at being unfriended anymore, from my experience. Your results may vary, of course. But people don't see when you've unfriended them, unless they stumble across you. They don't get a notification. And if you miss them, you can always tell them you unfriended them by mistake. It's actually true, in a way, isn't it? :)

Here are my suggestions for a more peaceful online life. Get rid of:

1) Anyone who is creepy or needy, even a little. (Block them!)

2) Homophobes and other people who don't share your values. Unless you can get something you need from them, like career advice that you value, for example. Some people may think this is unethical, but you should not suffer for other people's bigotry or erroneous beliefs. Sometimes you have to focus on helping just one LGBT person--yourself!

3) "Nice" people who still don't share your values. It bothers me, when it comes to basic LGBT equality and protections, so I can't honestly call a person like that my friend.

4) Teenagers. Unless, perhaps, you are one. I am 25, so pretty much anyone who is more than a few years younger than me, I find extremely boring. The only one I keep is my 13-year-old brother, in case he needs to message me. No, he doesn't read this blog, and probably never will.
 
5) Really anyone you are not close to, and who is boring.

6) Almost anyone from school, if you have graduated years ago. I have a policy not to look up anyone from my old evangelical school, after some drama with condescending homophobes, closet cases, and my old best friend who got mad that I commented too much (literally three or four times) on her posts. Before you accept their requests, it is a good idea to send them a message to "catch up" and casually mention something important to your own values--LGBT stuff, feminism, etc. Hopefully, you can screen out the awful people that way.

7) Anyone who argues with you. Block them. Yes, some people like to argue, and maybe you are one. But I can't argue about something that actually affects people's lives. Privileged people who "agree to disagree" are still privileged, and disadvantaged people are still disadvantaged. So there are some things where I cannot do that. My Facebook page is like my living room. I wouldn't let someone come into my living room and insult my friends or spout hurtful doctrine, so why would I let that happen in my virtual space? Facebook should be peaceful! (As a friend put it to me once, "I think your mental health is more important than his bigotry.")

8) Anyone who gives you the silent treatment, or does other passive-aggressive things. My best friend from school got angry with me for commenting on her posts, saying that I was passive-aggressive (which I strive so much not to be, because I can't stand passive-aggressive people). So I apologized all over myself. She then...gave me the silent treatment! After a day or so, I realized I wasn't sorry, told her so, told her to fuck herself (and that she would feel so much better if she did so), and blocked her. Damn, that felt so good! I try so hard not to focus on being "good" anymore, and tell myself that it's okay to be a bitch once in a while. Maybe I was wrong to do that--but I try not to care!

9) Really, anyone who ruins your day, in any way. Tell them, "You're not ruining my day anymore," if you wish, then block them. You'll feel so much better.

An easy way to go through all of your friends list is to search it alphabetically. First, you go through and thin out the "a" results, then the "b," and so on. You can refresh the page, if you must, to get rid of the ones you've already unfriended.

When it comes to family, this becomes trickier. You must decide which is better for you: To have them as friends, and keep the peace, if you can't stand them; or to deal with whatever consequences come from them finding out, whenever they find out. There may not even be any consequences. Or you can restrict them so they don't see your posts, and unfollow their posts, if you need something from them.
But if they make your life miserable when you see them, then you owe them nothing, no matter what they have done for you in the past or how much DNA they share with you. Take care of yourself, just like you would encourage anyone else to take care of themselves. Extricate yourself when you can, or don't look for them online in the first place. I am really glad that I'm not friends with most of my family.

I also recently learned something about someone that I should not know. This knowledge made me want to get rid of them, but I kept them, to protect an innocent party who accidentally told me. (They are not cheating on someone or abusing any person or animal, to my knowledge, I assure you.) After my friend from school got mad that I commented on her posts, I commented on one of this person's posts. But they didn't seem to care, and so I still have them. Oh well. I did what I could, and I feel better for it.

I have seen some people say ahead of time that they were going to get rid of some friends, but I don't see why I should. They just get people saying, "Don't get rid of me!" when those are probably the people whom you wouldn't get rid of in the first place.

By getting rid of people, you can make your life so much more peaceful. And life SHOULD be peaceful! Life should be easy. So do whatever you can to make it easy. Do what you have to do, and other people will get over it. It is far better to hurt others, than to hurt yourself.

And if other people get rid of you, people that mean something to you--try not to get mad. They probably don't know how much they mean to you. After this happened to me, I told another friend how much fun I had with them as a child, and how I missed my old friend. (I knew that they shared my values, also, because they seem to be some form of transgender. I expressed my support.) This friend thanked me, said that it meant a lot to them to hear that, and sent me another friend request. So it all ended very happily. But even if it had not, I would have been okay. And I would have felt much better, for saying something, too.

My Other Blog, And Why I've Moved

I have another blog called Atheist Journeys. I started it a few years ago, because at the time, I was focusing on the idea of "I am not evangelical/Christian/what my family and school wanted, and that is okay." I was still getting used to the idea of my not being a copy of my extended family's, and my evangelical Christian school's, religion. Accepting myself as non-religious was my most important priority at the time.
And then life dropped another bombshell on me.
Not only was I not religious, I was not straight. My priorities drastically changed.
It was quite a shock; I had thought that I would know what I was by the end of puberty. Apparently not. I was twenty-three when I walked into a crafts store as a straight girl and, because of a beautiful girl working there, walked out as a lesbian. As you can imagine, it was quite a shock for me, even if I was very rainbow and affirming at the time.
I will elaborate more on this later, but once I discovered that I was not straight (later I thought a lot about it, and realized that I'm actually bisexual), my focus and priorities changed. I had read a lot about LGBT stuff for a straight woman, at that point, and knew that I must be technically bisexual, even though I didn't "feel" bisexual at the time (though how is one supposed to feel bisexual?). And I knew that the new feeling I was experiencing was called "internalized homophobia," even though I knew it was okay to be whatever you were, and I would have bent over backwards to convince a gay friend to accept themselves.
So now the message that I focus on in my life is "I am not straight/what my family wants and thinks I am (for now), and that is okay." And that is a much harder thing to convince myself of. There are things you can believe with all your heart, and it still takes years to "feel" them.
I now know from experience that one's sexuality, at least for people like me, is so much more a part of them than their beliefs. And that one can be hurt regarding their sexuality, so much more than one can be hurt regarding their beliefs. Even when I thought I was straight, I knew that. I don't know how much one's beliefs are a choice (I think it varies, as some are in the grip of fear, and some use religion as an excuse to be horrible people, even if they don't know they're doing it). But I don't know of anyone who has killed themselves for being an atheist, or being "outed" as one. The same cannot be said for being LGBT.
I don't care about writing about not fitting the evangelical mold, anymore, as far as beliefs--for the most part. I've got more pressing matters now. So having a blog with a name like "Atheist Journeys" started to bother me more and more. Atheists were no longer my target audience, "my people." I don't care what people believe or don't believe, for the most part, except when it comes to LGBTQ issues. And even to an extent, I don't care what they believe about that, as long as they don't stand in the way of anyone's rights (especially in a hypocritical way, like being divorced and against marriage equality). Or treat their kids any differently because of their gender or sexuality.
I "go by" bi generally--though I'm okay with pretty much any label in regard to sexuality, except straight, because it's not accurate. And now that I know I'm not straight, I don't really care about labels in regard to beliefs. I don't like a lot of famous atheists, anyway, because of their condescending sexism and deliberately ignorant racism, among other things.
Perhaps it is because I realized I couldn't pray or read my bible anymore ten years ago, at age fifteen, that my sexuality is a much bigger deal than my beliefs were. But I don't think that's the case. Sexuality is who you love; your love or future love is under attack, when people have a problem with it! And even when religion is absent from all of your media, nearly everything revolves around fictional straight relationships. And when you're not straight, you notice when people like you are absent, every single time. In other words, once you lose straight privilege, by realizing you're not straight, you see straight privilege everywhere. It's especially painful in children's and young adult movies and media, because you know your very existence or love is "too controversial" most of the time. 
And every stranger you meet, you wonder if they will give you problems if they found out, even if you try not to care what others think of you. This becomes especially awkward in a work situation, or any situation where you have to spend time with those you don't know very well. Which is pretty much any situation! 
So yeah, that's a little more important to me than any lack of evangelical belief. I wasn't writing about atheism anymore, so "Atheist Journeys" did not fit. And in a few years, maybe something else will become more important to me than LGBT issues, though I doubt it.
Life is a journey, and I still feel that I am constantly changing, learning new things, and hopefully growing. So I got a new blog, which is simply "AJ's Journeys." This way, I can also write about my favorite hobby, getting rid of stuff (though there doesn't seem to be much to say on that, when compared to LGBT stuff), and one of my proudest accomplishments, taking care of my disabled chicken. Or anything else I want to. Though I wrote about those things before, I still felt that the word "atheist" in the title constrained me.
I also don't know what I'll be or believe in a few years, though I hope never to be a conservative Christian again. (It was miserable! I tried so hard to get close to God, to no apparent avail.) So this blog, without the word "atheist" on it, will hopefully give me more freedom to explore.
I also love fresh starts, and I love having a new blog. Hopefully this will be a better fit for me.
I may repost some of my favorite articles from that blog, but there is nearly two hundred of them there, so reposting them all would be very impractical. You can still see them all on the other blog here.