Faith and Sexuality

a second coming out of sorts

a second coming out of sorts

This post is one I’ve been trying to write on and off since late this summer, and I’m still not really sure why I was never able to finish it. What I write here probably won’t come as a surprise to many people who know me well, even though I’ve realized that I haven’t really talked about this much with a lot of the people in my life. In all honesty, I’ve probably written more Twitter threads on this specific topic and elaborated on it more in that fashion than I have verbally to the majority of my friends.

But in the spirit of National Coming Out Day yesterday and the fact that I’ve been realizing just how much this other aspect of myself really does impact my day-to-day life and relationships, I finally decided to sit down and get myself to hammer out this post.

Something else people will need to understand prior to me really starting this post (and let’s be honest, I’m probably going to make a little series on this, but don’t quote me on that, because clearly it took me ages to write this one) is that the catalyst for this entire revelation was my glamping trip with the internet queers earlier this summer. I’m sure that I would’ve made this connection and realized this about myself eventually, but being able to spend several days surrounded by only fellow queer people all along the spectrum of sexuality probably expedited this process quite significantly.

While I was there, I was telling a story about a series of interactions I had with a guy earlier that summer and upon finishing my story, one of my friends who was sitting there remarked to me saying: “That’s a really demisexual thing to say.” In that moment, I had a simultaneously really profound and really simple revelation at the same time. I’m demisexual.

hello, past self

hello, past self

Today is September 19th, meaning I’m another year older, and perhaps that’s gotten me thinking about what this day has been like in all the 20something years past. Something that’s particular salient this year is the multitude of things from both my past and present that have been melding lately, and I specifically refrain from using the word “colliding,” because I don’t think any of those things are at odds. In fact, similarly to what I’ve written about intermittently over the course of the last year, I think right now is one of the points in my life where I actually feel more whole than ever, the point where my 11-year old self is meeting my present self.

In that moment, I think there’s a mix of emotions. My present self feels heavy and protective of my 11-year old self, knowing so vividly all the things that are going to happen in the next decade or so that my 11-year old self could never know about or be prepared for. And at the same time, my present self almost feels more jealous of my 11-year old self because of how simple and clean things were during that stage of life, before realizing that despite all the things that have happened in the last five years or so, things are slowly starting to return to a similar simple state, sometimes through the oddest and most trivial things. But then again, that’s what simplicity is, isn’t it? And maybe that’s what feeling in this odd between place, this sensation of simultaneously feeling 20something and 11 at the same time, this sensation of returning to a simpler age.

a week with the queers

a week with the queers

Okay, so maybe the title and header are a little misleading. It was four days. And we stayed in cabins, so I guess it doesn't *really* count as camping, but the prevailing idea remains, and I think it's really important to write about it and talk about it.

As a queer person, and specifically as a queer Christian who grew up in a lot of conservative Christian circles, I went into this four day glamping trip with exclusively other queer people with an odd mix of sheer excitement, trepidation, and wonder. I mean, when you really think about it (and when I would tell people about what my plans for the end of July were), it does sound a little crazy doesn't it?

I was about to fly from Minneapolis to Nashville to go to "queer summer camp," as we had all collectively dubbed it, with about 15 other queer people that I had only otherwise met on the internet, specifically from Twitter. Sure, many of us had interacted extensively online before and many more of us had FaceTimed each other or otherwise gotten the chance to spend time together virtually, but this four day trip was going to be the first time that many of us would be meeting each other in person. And for me, it was going to be the first time I would be meeting any of these people in person.

this summer is sacred

this summer is sacred

Something I noticed recently is how we often don't pay all that much attention to the progression of the calendar year, because for the most part, it's become mostly irrelevant. We say that the first of January signals the beginning of a new year, but because of how central the school year is to so many of our lives, whether we're students, or parents of students, etc., the beginning of the calendar year usually feels a little more like the middle of the year, with Christmas break and all.

Likewise, summer often tends to feel like the end of the year, with the end of summer relaying that the school year is about to start again. That's generally when I feel like the majority of us tend to feel like we're approaching a new year, as the fall rolls around.

Despite our general indifference/ignorance towards what actually constitutes the beginning or end of a given season, I've found myself acutely aware of just how many months have gone by over the course of 2018, and maybe that's why this current summer, the summer of 2018, feels peculiarly sacred.

when you have to leave them behind

when you have to leave them behind

If you know me or have been reading along with me for a while, you already know a few things: there's this really long, complicated relationship that I've been in the process of sorting through and getting over, there's something about the intersections of the sacred and secular that really speak to me, and there's something I always love about a good metaphor. You probably know a few more things too at this point, but those are the three I'm sticking with this time around.

Now, if you follow me on Twitter at all AND follow me on here, you might be a little jarred as you go back and forth, because apparently Twitter is where the sarcastically dry part of my personality resides, and around here is where the contemplative part of me lives. But something I read on Twitter the other day put me back in that reflective position, thinking about how sometimes we need to leave people behind as the absolute best choice we can make for them and for ourselves.

What got me thinking about all this was this tweet from Jonathan Martin I came across the other night.  The part that stood out to me goes like this:

Sometimes God is leading you to a place where other people who have been important in your life cannot follow.