eredien: Dancing Dragon (Default)
I figured out this morning, while showering, that what I didn't want to be married. What I wanted was to live together with Rachel for the rest of my life, doing what we wanted, caring for each other, but not feeling responsible for the things she did in her life, and having her not feel responsible for the things I did in mine. I think that the fact that marriage is commonly understood to be the way that people who care about each other live together for a lifetime blinded me to the fact that I didn't actually want the structure of marriage as it was commonly understood, where you also are supposed to take on some large responsibility for the life the other person leads.

I think, in retrospect, that this was utterly obvious. Since I was 14 or so, I've been telling myself metaphorically, and not in a subtle way either, that I didn't want marriage. But I thought that marriage was the only possible way to live with and love the person(s) I cared about, and since I wanted to live with and love the person(s) I cared about, I picked marriage (and the attendant social baggage and responsibilities that came along with it). I confused the socially sanctioned way of living with and loving others for the only possible way of living with and loving others by conflating the two (and I'd been conflating them since I was 14, too, with the same metaphor I used to tell myself that I didn't want marriage).

Wow, no wonder I felt so lonely. I didn't want the socially sanctioned way of having partner(s) for life, but I thought that was the only way to have a partner. I don't necessarily want the socially sanctioned way of having any relationships, but I thought that was the only way to have any relationships.

I am utterly sure I also had this problem with other relationships, too: my friendships, and my family. Why do I have this problem? I think I had it instilled in me by my family that the only permissible relationship to have with them was the socially sanctioned "loving child/parent" relationship, so no wonder I was struggling under a crushing guilt-burden of social sanctions and appearances when the relationship we actually had was not loving at all. Furthermore, once I was finally able to acknowledge that the relationship was actually abusive rather than loving, I still struggled under the guilt-burden of social sanction, unsure what to do with the social-sanction concept now that it was not tethered to the relationship anymore, but social sanction still remained the most important factor in how I understood relationships.

No wonder I worried so much about what everyone else thought of me and my actions--my relationships with myself--if was monitoring that feeling of social sanction, rather than the love present in any actual relationship, all the time. I felt a lot of pressure to take only socially sanctioned actions, be a socially sanctioned person. And I'm just not, most of the time. :D

That was why I was happiest when I was alone--there was no "social" for me to feel was sanctioning me or that I had to monitor for appropriateness. But after I realized I also needed and deserved humane, loving relationships, to get them I kept putting myself into social situations, and during any interaction with any other person I would put all this social sanction pressure on myself, and manufacture it where it didn't exist. Because without social sanction, I couldn't see a relationship as a relationship, since social sanction was what I understood relationships to be.

[Addendum: I think that I started being able to see that relationships were different from social sanctions of relationships when I came out, but since I still had very little idea that what I ought to desire from a relationship was the relationship rather than the relationship+social sanction, wherever any of my relationships were not socially sanctioned I kept trying to make them be, which came at the expense of the relationships and therefore also at my own expense.]

This is really important. I feel really freed and happy.
eredien: Dancing Dragon (Default)
I had started thinking about keeping a relationships and sex blog before [livejournal.com profile] rax 's and my recent breakup, and have now decided that it is more important than ever for me to start one.

I realize that to some of you the idea about blogging (rather than simply privately journaling) about relationships and sex may seem crass or too uncomfortably open, and I have to say that while I do not agree with your opinion--I think a blog, any blog, can be a tool for both private and public conversation and reflection in a way that a private journal cannot be--I don't want people who won't want to read about things that will make them uncomfortable to feel like the idea of my writing about this stuff was going to be sprung on them. So, I'm going to keep this post up top for several weeks, so people can really give consideration to whether they want to be on my new relationships and sex blog friends-list, or not.

I will probably start writing in said blog later today.

Please comment below if you would like to opt-ON to the friends list for the new blog. Otherwise, you will not be on it.

You can also ask questions, etc.

Thanks!
eredien: Dancing Dragon (Default)
CKD wrote earlier today about his support for the SANE program. If you haven't read his blog post on it or the Boston Herald's article about the SANE program in MA, please go and read it.

Basically, the SANE program provides nurses that have been specially trained to help all rape survivors emotionally while still giving compassionate medical care and getting forensic evidence. Their budget is getting cut 66% in the proposed 2010 FY budget, which means that services will be halved by mid-December and cut entirely by January. This is a proven program (12 years) with a track record of not only providing medical care and emotional support for the raped, but also many convictions for rapists. Without this program, many rape victims in MA would have to do what rape victims in many other states do: wait in the ER for many hours to be eventually seen by harried, busy ER healthcare personnel with little to no specalized training in providing compassionate care for rape victims specifically.

There is more info at the Boston Area Rape Crisis Center's website, along with info on how to find your MA state rep. or senator.

There are also some other bills under consideration by the MA House and Sentate:
- Having to do with getting restraining orders against stalkers who are not related to you or who have not been in a relationship with you.
- Making it easier for people who have suffered rape, sexual assault, or rape in the home to do things like change locks or break their lease without penalty if they have to move for their own safety.
- Protecting gender expression or identity in state law in the same way that race, religion, or disability is now protected against discrimination under state law.

I have to admit, I now feel that creating endless categories of people for whom discrimination is a problem, and then enshrining those categories in law is not the best solution, or even a possible solution, to the problem of bias/discrimination, since there will constantly be new categories being created (thanks for suggesting a sane solution to the problem that protects minorities as well as majorities, "Covering!") But I would also like my fiancee [livejournal.com profile] rax not to get fired from her job, and I would like to feel safe going to the grocery store as a genderqueer woman. So, I wrote this letter:

Dear Representative Provost )

Then, I wrote another letter to my mom about it. My mom is a healthcare worker for the county in which I grew up. She cried when she found out I was queer and told me it was her fault and that I should never get married and should try to date boys because I was bi and it was easier, but threw condoms at people during Woodstock '99 and told us about STDs over the dinner table and threw an engagement party for me and [livejournal.com profile] rax and my sister and her fiance this year after reading Ellen's mother's book (yeah, that's my mom). I don't know if she knows people in MA who are involved in healthcare, government, and politics, who might be able to read my letter to her and actually get something moving with any of these bills, but I wrote her anyway, because if she did, and she has a higher chance of it than me, then it was better than not writing to her.

And I told her about the other bills, and did a little arrow, like this, <, next to the Gender identity bill, and said "this would really help me and my friends." And then I deleted "me." And then I added it back in again, and sighed, and said, "oh God, now she's really going to worry about me," and then I thought, "well, better she know what to worry about and be able to help with the actual problems I am having than manufacture things to worry about that aren't real." (yeah, that's my mom.)

And then I pressed send, because if I can write to Representative Provost and tell her I am genderqueer, then I can write to my mom and tell her the same thing, and arguably should.

I dunno if I'm going to regret this decision. I dunno if she's even going to notice the litte arrow and the one line of text. I dunno what I am going to say if she calls me and says, "so does this mean you're really a boy?" and start crying or if my dad is like, "why do you do these things to hurt your mother?"

But I know that even if they don't understand and can't accept my position, or hold another position, or think falsely that I took the position I did deliberately to hurt them, better for me to say what my position is--truthfully--so that I can start talking with them about why I make the decisions I make, and how their decisions affect me and how my decisions affect them, so we can start to talk, and recognize that we can talk and love each other even if--especially if--we disagree, and that love is stronger than that disagreement. I guess I feel that if the disagreement goes unacknowledged out of fear of hurting them by disagreeing, then I'm hurting them anyway, because then I feel like I can't disagree with them on anything, and am lying to them about my position and its effects besides. If my positions are strong enough, they will stand up to disagreement, and if they are not, then I ought to decide how and why I will change them, especially if it's at the behest of my loved ones.

I kinda want to call her and I kinda don't. I also have to ask her to please stop nicknaming me. Maybe I should just call.
eredien: Dancing Dragon (Default)
Had a lovely dinner last night with [livejournal.com profile] baaaaaaaaaah and [livejournal.com profile] meanfreepath. It was great to see S. again and catch up with her; it turns out that meanfreepath lives literally a block away and we are going to get together and play games.

I am currently in the process of making major life changes. Something that I suspect will be big and important, and sucks really hard, hit me upside the head about 20 minutes ago; no, I'm not ready to talk about it yet, if at all.

That's on top of trying to deal with religion. I don't know if I'm going to be living in the Boston area in the next few years--it depends on if [livejournal.com profile] rax decides to go for a PhD around here or not--but I've decided that it's time to move on from being a queer who's scared to be Christian, just like I moved on from being a Christian who's scared to be queer. I need to deal with the lack of a faith community in my life, and there's one easy way that I can do that: get my ass to a faith community. There's two churches I've been to in the area which I liked:

First Church Somerville UCC - I felt comfortable here the few times I went. That might be a problem, as I think that too much comfortability can be a drawback in a church (comfortability is good; too much is bad, IMO). A lot of the population of this church seemed white and in their mid-20's to mid-50's when I went in the summer, though when I went for Advent last winter there were some more older people in greater evidence. They sent me a mug. Their main pastor is a woman, which is cool. Stuff I find problematic:
- I like their stance on gay rights, can't help but like it, but it's inherently political to fly a rainbow flag outside of a church. It's also inherently religious (at least in the USA). It's also my cause. But places of worship which play overt politics games bother me. (I'm well-aware that individual places of worship in specific, and organized religion in general, both play internal and external and overt and covert and intra-faith and intra-denominational politics games, and have for centuries; they're institutions run by people. Thanks.) Should faith inform political stances for people of faith? Yes--in fact, I think it would be dishonest not to have faith inform a political stance for people of faith. Should people of faith speak up about injustice and combat it where they see it? Yes. So why am I still so conflicted about a church making an overt inherently political statement, especially as it's in support of a cause I agree with and which my life is part of, and one which I think people need to be overt about? Probably becauase integrating faith and sexuality is hard in any case, and I personally am still angry at my faith for making my sexuality harder and my sexuality for making my faith harder. (But I have determined that whining about that is not helping either cause, so I am going to try to do something to strengthen my faith which will also strengthen the rest of my life, incl. sexuality).
- The UCC is a non-creedal church: there is nothing you have to believe in order to belong. Somewhat discouraging. I can not believe something at home and be able to sleep in. Why bother showing up if I don't have to believe anything?

St. James' Episcopalian Church - welcoming; I have friends I know who go there and are involved in church life & committees there (younger people involved in church life--always a good sign). Diverse in terms of race and age with a healthy mix of college students, families, old people, etc. Gorgeous building. Moravian star over baptismal font, which is kind of awesome. Seems to do interesting missionary work, though I want to research more into what it is they are actually doing and where they are going. Does not make me feel as comfortable as UCC though I think perhaps that is a good thing. Stuff I find problematic:
- I don't beieve in saints; sermons taking place on 'St. X's day' make my very protestant-tradition-steeped heart nervous. There are good people and were good people who are Christian and did some amazing stuff, but I don't want to pray to them. More research needs to be done in terms of theology impacting practice.
- Worried about hierarchial relationship structure of Episcopalian church.
- Episcopalian church in US currently going through protracted and sometimes nasty theological debate surrounding gay people in life of church, ordination for gays, gay marriage, etc., with possible schism in the near future. Don't really want to be a poster child, and don't want to join a church only to be told I can't get married in it.

Thoughts welcome, esp. from local folks and/or folks involved in churches.
eredien: Dancing Dragon (Default)
High Costs in the USA.

High Costs in Iraq.

These situations are, of course, not comparable to each other, and I'm not suggesting they ought to be compared. Just putting the information out there.
eredien: Dancing Dragon (Default)
Coming Out in Middle School by Benoit Denizet-Lewis. [NYT Times article, if you're not registered use BugmeNot.]

“When I first realized I was gay,” Austin interjected, “I just assumed I would hide it and be miserable for the rest of my life. But then I said, ‘O.K., wait, I don’t want to hide this and be miserable my whole life.’ ”

I asked him how old he was when he made that decision.

“Eleven,” he said.


Wow! Younger people are starting to understand the second part of the benefits of coming out--"you don't have to hide this and be miserable, and in fact, if you don't hide it, you might even get a shot at being happy"--really early. That makes me really happy, if a bit wistful.

Speaking as someone who knew they were queer in middle school and went through about a decade of just assuming that I was going to be miserable my whole life, I am so glad to see that people of all ages are now starting to have the support of a community, even if it's just the implicit community that the visibility of out queer people provides, which is starting to allow them to realize that they don't even have to make that assumption in the first place. They don't even have to make the false assumption and then work to kill what life it's gained from their belief in it; it's starting to be viewed correctly as a flawed premise, a dead premise, from the beginning.

I can't say that I can't even imagine who I would be now if I hadn't had that miserable decade of closeting, self-hatred and reflexive fear of other people (when you're hiding a secret that, if spoken, will make people hate you--and/or make you hate the self that loves, which you are told you yourself should hate--you tend to avoid people as much as possible).

In fact, I can imagine it pretty well now, and I wish I'd had it, based on the very tangible benefits that coming out has made to myself, to my friends and family, and to these people I don't even know.

If I'd been in 8th grade and had a community of people around me coming out, I might have had the courage to do it then (I was a courageous person, in some ways). I considered and rejected it in highschool, when there was a small community, mostly because by then I'd just built up too much fear of myself to bother doing the hard work it takes to find yourself after you've sent yourself away.

So, thanks, people who came out to me in junior high school and high school and college and beyond. Thanks, rax, for loving me, and encouraging me to come out instead of dumping my ass when you found out that I wasn't out. Thanks, queer and kinky friends from around the world and right here in Camberville. Thanks, pastor, for reassuring me of God's love when I was sure I ought to get rejected by it because I was broken in the wrong way and not the acceptable ways. Thanks, parents, for making me realize it's not going to be rainbows and sunshine all the time, and why I need to do it anyway. Thanks, me, for coming out and continuing to come out, and thanks, eighth-grade me, for making me remember why it's important to do so even when you don't particularly think it's going to be easy.

I'm dressing genderqueer today, and probably tomorrow, for that eighth-grade me, and for the today me, and for everybody.
eredien: Dancing Dragon (Default)
An lj friend of mine recently asked queer folks what they thought of forcibly outing queer politicans who were publicly anti-gay. Were they victims of societal homophobia? Was it their just desserts? Or something else?

I was going to answer there but it turned into a post of its own. This is long, and it's as much a personal meditation on religion as a public question of politics, so I put it behind a cut-tag.

Read more... )