The Part With The First Prayer

Holy shit.

I was finally alone.

What had just happened?

I had just kissed a girl. Three times. I told her that I had feelings for her. I was trying to deny that those feelings existed. What was I going to do?

I couldn't do this. No. The church was too important to me. I loved God and I knew that he loved me and this thing...whatever it was...this was not what God wanted for me. God wanted me to find a nice boy and go to the temple and have a great life that was slightly unconventional but was righteous and good.

Kissing girls was not righteous and good.

Okay it was good.

No. Stoppit.

My mind was in a million places. I couldn't even feel my body and I didn't know what I was doing or who I was. In a literal and metaphorical sense.

What are we going to do? we kept asking each other.

I finally fell to my knees. And the words that I prayed shocked me.

Dear Heavenly Father. Thank you for bringing Doricha into my life. Thank you for letting her like me. Thank you for letting this happen. Thank you for her. Thank you for making her. She's so incredible, Father. Thank you for tonight. I know you don't like it. I'm sorry about that. I'll try to fix it. But thank you so much. Thank you.


For several months after that very first night with Doricha, I prayed every single night (I was never ever good about morning prayers, I am NOT a morning person). Every. Night. I didn't know if I wanted to be in the church anymore. I didn't know if I believed in God anymore. Not because of Doricha...but it was stuff that had been there for a long time, stuff that was bubbling to the surface.

But I kept praying.

And it was always so much the same.

Thank you for letting me love her, Father. Thank you for bringing her into my life. Thank you for letting her love me. I'm sorry, I know this isn't what you want. But she makes me so happy, Father. I am so happy with her.


I poured my soul out to God in so much the same way that I did when I was happy over the good Mormon boy I met at EFY.

I am so happy, Father. I know this is not what you want. But I love her so much and I am so happy. Thank you for letting us be together. Thank you so much.


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One Sentence

My new dorm room is located in a building made up entirely of single rooms. In an effort to make friends, I've been leaving my door open as often as possible. People actually drop in quite frequently to say hello, which I think is pretty rad of them to do.

A girl just dropped by to say hi on the way back from taking a shower and we had a nice little chat. Everybody here is really friendly. We were just talking and I was like, "Oh yeah I used to be Music Ed. I play the cello."

And she was like, "Oh cool! I was a percussionist, drumline in high school and stuff."

"Oh my girlfriend's a percussionist!" I said.

And we talked about percussion and things. And then we talked about long distance relationships because her boyfriend goes to school in Canada.

And it was entirely not a big deal at all that I am dating a girl.

That one sentence that I said that was just a fun fact that actually kind of made us a little better friends for the moment – because I know percussion-talk and because we're both in long distance relationships – could have gotten me kicked out of BYU. Isn't that amazing? One sentence that has led to friendship could have ended everything.

I'm astounded at my ability to talk freely with the only thing standing in my way being people's prejudice which I am more than willing to barrel through. I really did hesitate before I said anything and then I realized that when I'm here, there is not reason in the world for me not to speak freely. I don't have anything to hide. That's why I'm here. I'm here to finally be myself, whoever that is.

So far, so good.

As an aside, I wrote this post about a week and a half before I posted it. I'm trying this new thing where I'm on top of posting so I'm going to be trying to write my posts early and then just set them up to post themselves on Monday. So that's what's up.

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Family

I went to the lake last weekend with my family. It's a tradition with us. We usually go over the Fourth of July weekend and it's always so much fun. We rent a boat and go water skiing and tubing out on the lake and when we're not on the boat we're back at the shelter playing board games and chatting and laughing. We always go to the same spot. We've been doing this for probably ten years now.

We went this last weekend because my cousin Nani's fiance Harry was in town and he'd brought his daughters and we all wanted to meet them, so we packed up and headed down. Harry is British (and he's very attractive just by the way) and his daughters were adorable but very shy. 

As usual, the day at the lake was exciting. I have one cousin (not the one who's engaged) who's only two months older than me so we've always been fairly close and it was great to spend time with her and catch up.

But the whole day, there were nagging thoughts I couldn't get out of my head. If Doricha were a boy, she could have come on this trip. I mean really there's no guarantee of that. But really, if I had been dating someone for a year and a half and my parents liked him and especially if he were LDS, he probably would have been invited along. To get used to family events like this. But she wasn't invited. Because my mom doesn't even know we're dating and my dad is pretending we're not.

And then every ten minutes somebody was fawning over how cute Nani and Harry were. And they were adorable. Everybody's really happy for Nani because she's in her early thirties and this is her first marriage. So it was all, "Aw look at them." The men were making Harry feel welcome while simultaneously razzing him the way that they do with all the fiances before they're husbands.

And I realized that that will never be me.

My family will never fawn over me and Doricha.

Honestly my extended family will probably never know about me and Doricha.

Which makes me sad.

If we were married and I went to visit my family without her, I wouldn't take off my wedding ring. I'm not making a conditional vow. It's not forever and ever except when I'm with my extended family. It's forever and ever period. So it kind of makes me wonder if I would just stop visiting my family.

That would make me sad too.

I have all these grand dreams of what my adult life with Doricha will be like, but then I get down to the practicality of it...it's a lot harder to work out. My extended family will still want to be a part of my life and include me on things. They'll be genuinely concerned for me and want me to be happy. They'll mean well when they try to set me up with people and I won't be able to tell them I'm perfectly happy where I am in life.

They'll want to know why I'm wearing a wedding ring. And I won't laugh it off because why would someone laugh off being married?

I know I have a long time to figure everything out. But I guess what it comes down to is I don't want my family to be ashamed of me. I could be one of those brave people who proudly comes waltzing out of the closet and tells everybody to take it or leave it. But I'm not. I can't do that to my immediate family.

Well, at least it'll be easy to come out to my dad's side. They've all got their own stuff and none of them go to church anymore anyway. I'll fit right in.

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The Part Where I Came Out To My Dad

This happened today.

Well, the beginning didn't.

Last night I had another severe episode of depression. I've been dealing with them with increasing frequency all summer. Depression, anxiety, self-loathing... Last night I made the determination that things need to change. I decided to take control of my life. I decided to stop the lies. And I decided to come out.

(As an aside, if my depression symptoms are still this bad in two weeks, I'm also going to talk to my doctor about starting medication.)

When I woke up this morning, I felt better. But the resolve was still there. I knew that I couldn't keep hiding forever. Today was my dad's first day of work with his new job. A day of new beginnings.

When he asked me to pick him up from dropping his car off at the company's main building downtown, I saw my opportunity.

Oh, god, that drive down to pick him up was the worst thing ever. I almost had to pull over to throw up. My mouth was dry, I simultaneously needed to throw up and poop, and my hands and feet were all sweaty. I was so shaky I wasn't entirely sure how the car was still going straight.

I retrieved my dad and as we pulled out of the parking lot, I asked him if he could pull into a parking lot. I said, "I need to talk to you. It's really important."

So we pulled into a gas station. He parked the car. I pulled out my ipod, with my coming out letter saved to it...and I talked.

I didn't stick to my script, it seemed trite in real time. But it was a good outline.

First I told him up front, "I'm not straight. I know that's a weird way of phrasing it, but I don't know any other way to say it. I don't know what label applies to me. All I know is that I am physically and emotionally attracted to women." I talked to him about how I had experienced this since I was about thirteen, but had tried to ignore it because I knew that the church taught it was evil.

I told him how when I was seventeen I couldn't ignore it anymore because I developed a crush that wouldn't go away. A crush that lasted for more than a year.

I told him about her.

I told him how I chose to go to BYU so that I could be as far from her as possible. Because I was terrified that if I picked a state school, I would only be picking it to stay close to her so we could stay together.

I told him how I had met with my bishop every single week at BYU after I confessed to him. I told him how I saw a counselor at school who specialized in same-sex attraction.

And then I apologized for lying. I told him how much I hated myself for the lies and the secrets. And this was the part where I couldn't contain myself anymore and I just broke down sobbing.

And this was the part where the miracle happened.

He took me into his arms. He held me so tight. And told me over and over again that he loved me. That was all he said for a really long time. I was crying too hard to say anything, and he just kept telling me that he loved me.

He told me that he loved me. That I'm his daughter and he will always love me. He said that he understands this is a part of me and I can't change it. He said, "I don't know why Heavenly Father gave you this challenge. I can't even imagine how much it must hurt you. I'm so sorry."

He did bear testimony to me that Heavenly Father and Jesus love me and they will always love me and always be waiting to welcome me back, no matter what I do. He assured me that he knows that God's plan is for me to marry a boy.

And we talked. We talked about what I want in the future. We talked about here and now and...everything.

He assured me several times that he knows I can't change this and that I didn't choose this. He said that his time in the bishopric taught him to be much more accepting. He said, "I know that you can't wish this away anymore than I can wish to not be bald anymore."

He said, "I accept you, and God accepts you. I don't think you accept you, though."

He said that what he thinks I should do in the coming months is move with my family to Utah and take a semester off (because I was planning on taking a semester off anyway) out there and take care of my mom and sister during the transition and then go to UVU. I don't think I want that. But I'll consider it.

He wants to talk to us. As a couple.

The only thing he wanted was he said he wanted us to "cool it" physically. And I said, "I really don't know if I can do that, Daddy. Because all I want right now is to go cry in her arms."

And he said, "I don't find that objectionable at all."

He just wants us to not have sex.

He said if I do go to Utah, he'll fly her out to see me a couple times.

(I still don't want to do it...)

I mean, he told me he's not ready to attend a wedding or anything...but that I'm also not ready to have a wedding. And I agree with that.

We're not telling my mom. Not now. Not for a long time. He took it well. She will not. He knows that and I know that. We can't tell her yet.

He suspected. He's suspected for a long time. Years, he said. He said, "Maybe someone who doesn't know you as well as I do wouldn't be able to see it."  He also said his first reaction was almost, "Well, duh."

It went so well. So much better than I could have ever imagined. Considering my expectations going in were, "It would be friggin' sweet if nobody hit me."

It was incredible. I already feel so light...so much freer. I'm so glad I told him. I don't know what I was waiting for. He told me that I underestimated him. He was right.

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Housekeeping

Hi! This is me. In the present. All my other entries have been about the past. I'm starting to get kind of tired of the "parts" stories, though. I mean, they're important and I'll tell it all eventually. But if I'm bored of it you probably are too.

So for the next few weeks, I'm just going to be blogging on present-day thoughts. I thought I'd keep all you in the loop (my huge readership of 11 Blogger followers and 13 Tumblr followers, you) on what's up.

This week's post will be posted on Monday (which is supposed to be my regular update day) and will be about Indianapolis's Pride Festival!