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.
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, 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, March 30, 2016
The Mythical Gay Grants My Wishes
I have a Facebook friend who happens to be the "mythical gay" from my childhood, the very first gay person I remember hearing about in real life, back when I was being raised very conservative (mostly by my school, in those years; my mother was surprisingly non-homophobic at the time, for someone so conservative, and my dad didn't really have or express an opinion). Then, fifteen years later, the "mythical gay" happened to be in the same ex-fundamentalist Facebook group I was in, and I saw his post and introduced myself.
So the other day, "Mark" was sharing one bit of negative LGBT-related news after another. There was Franklin Graham, Georgia, North Carolina...
I then came across a more uplifting story, about two 90-year-old lesbians finally getting married, after 72 years together. It was so cute, and so happy. So Mark was one of the people I shared it with. I hoped that it would make him happy, and not feel so down.
He went crazy over the story, and I guess it really made him happy. He said he was sharing it to his own page (separate from his personal page), then he told me he was making me an administrator for the page.
"Hey, that's neat," I thought. "How nice."
Then I looked at the page. It was familiar! I had seen it before, but had never dreamed that he was the one who ran it. I believe I stumbled across it even before I met him online. I remember the rainbow-painted hands forming a heart, and the title, "Stop Dehumanizing Gay And Transgender People."
Boy, was I on top of the world after that! I felt like I had gotten a promotion, and I hadn't even known I was applying for the job (or that the job existed).
The very first link I shared was about Jesus healing a man's gay lover, in the bible. I also shared a link to Queer Review, a website where people can rate businesses in their areas which are friendly and unfriendly to LGBT people.
Whenever I come across something inspiration or useful to LGBT people, or a bit of news, I share it, and it's such a joy to share these things and see that people like them (and hopefully are helped, encouraged, or warned by them). I sign the name "Alex" to my postings on the page, so that my more controversial views (such as that Jesus was bisexual, and that it's in the bible) don't reflect upon the whole page, or Mark.
I also plan to give links to some of my own blog posts on this page, occasionally, if they work with the apparent theme of the page, which I take to be, "Respect and dignity for LGBT people." Or, respecting oneself as as an LGBT person, and simply as a person.
For two or three days after making me an admin, Mark messaged me daily, always saying something like, "We now have almost 2,000 likes! The links you share are great! You're doing an awesome job!" That made me feel really good.
He suggested I come up to the big city (Portland, Oregon) to see him sometime in real life. When he said that, I remembered that Portland is big enough to have a Gay Pride Parade every June, and that I always wanted to go there since learning about it. I mentioned it, and he sent me many pictures of himself at Pride and promised to be my tour guide. He says it's "the happiest day of the year."
It seems that my "mythical gay" has granted wishes that I didn't even realize I had. So now I'm in charge of this semi-famous Facebook page (even with the power to ban people), and I'm going to my very first Pride parade in June! And all because two 90-year-old-lesbians decided to finally tie the knot.
I guess the moral of the story is to always share encouraging news with friends who seem down, whenever you can, and to befriend anyone from your past who does not bring up bad memories. You never know what this may lead to.
So the other day, "Mark" was sharing one bit of negative LGBT-related news after another. There was Franklin Graham, Georgia, North Carolina...
I then came across a more uplifting story, about two 90-year-old lesbians finally getting married, after 72 years together. It was so cute, and so happy. So Mark was one of the people I shared it with. I hoped that it would make him happy, and not feel so down.
He went crazy over the story, and I guess it really made him happy. He said he was sharing it to his own page (separate from his personal page), then he told me he was making me an administrator for the page.
"Hey, that's neat," I thought. "How nice."
Then I looked at the page. It was familiar! I had seen it before, but had never dreamed that he was the one who ran it. I believe I stumbled across it even before I met him online. I remember the rainbow-painted hands forming a heart, and the title, "Stop Dehumanizing Gay And Transgender People."
Boy, was I on top of the world after that! I felt like I had gotten a promotion, and I hadn't even known I was applying for the job (or that the job existed).
The very first link I shared was about Jesus healing a man's gay lover, in the bible. I also shared a link to Queer Review, a website where people can rate businesses in their areas which are friendly and unfriendly to LGBT people.
Whenever I come across something inspiration or useful to LGBT people, or a bit of news, I share it, and it's such a joy to share these things and see that people like them (and hopefully are helped, encouraged, or warned by them). I sign the name "Alex" to my postings on the page, so that my more controversial views (such as that Jesus was bisexual, and that it's in the bible) don't reflect upon the whole page, or Mark.
I also plan to give links to some of my own blog posts on this page, occasionally, if they work with the apparent theme of the page, which I take to be, "Respect and dignity for LGBT people." Or, respecting oneself as as an LGBT person, and simply as a person.
For two or three days after making me an admin, Mark messaged me daily, always saying something like, "We now have almost 2,000 likes! The links you share are great! You're doing an awesome job!" That made me feel really good.
He suggested I come up to the big city (Portland, Oregon) to see him sometime in real life. When he said that, I remembered that Portland is big enough to have a Gay Pride Parade every June, and that I always wanted to go there since learning about it. I mentioned it, and he sent me many pictures of himself at Pride and promised to be my tour guide. He says it's "the happiest day of the year."
It seems that my "mythical gay" has granted wishes that I didn't even realize I had. So now I'm in charge of this semi-famous Facebook page (even with the power to ban people), and I'm going to my very first Pride parade in June! And all because two 90-year-old-lesbians decided to finally tie the knot.
I guess the moral of the story is to always share encouraging news with friends who seem down, whenever you can, and to befriend anyone from your past who does not bring up bad memories. You never know what this may lead to.
Ronny Brings Flowers: Pudge And Ronny, Chapter 35
This is my Accelerated Christian Education fan fiction, the first ever ACE fan fiction on the internet, to my knowledge. You can see more chapters on my "Gay Christian Fanfiction" page at the top of this blog, or on my Deviant Art page here.
That Sunday, Ronny was set to arrive to dinner any minute, and Pudge could not stop pacing. In his mind, he prayed for a sign, some clue that he wasn't destined for a lifetime of loneliness. That they were as ordinary as any other couple. It seemed too good to be true, that he was not meant for a lifetime of loneliness (or an eternity in hell), but what if it was true, and he missed out because of his fears of hell?
"Please, God, just give me a sign, either way," Pudge thought. "I just want to know if this is normal, or not. If it's acceptable to you, like other couples are."
If they were even a couple, that was, or on their way to being a couple. He hoped he had not misunderstood Ronny. He hoped for a sign in that area, too.
Marcy stirred the spaghetti sauce briskly, trying to do something with her nervous, nervous hands. Was she doing the right thing, by encouraging Pudge like this? What if her baby ended up in hell?
"Well, at least we'll be together," she thought. In spite of how blasphemous it was, she wanted to be with her boy, even more than she wanted to be with Jesus. God had given her Pudge, as a wonderful gift and a blessing, so why did she feel so guilty for loving him so much?
Her late husband had seemed to love God through his love of his family. She wondered why it was a great sin to be too devoted a mother. Then she felt guilty for wondering.
"Please, just give me a sign, Lord," she thought. "Even if you did create him to be with a man, is Ronny really the right choice? He's not even a believer. And how do I even know he'd be good to my Pudge?"
Ronny arrived at Pudge's house, dressed as if he had just been at church (though he obviously hadn't), in black slacks and a button-down shirt. He was much more nervous than the other times had been invited over to Pudge's house. He felt like he was going to meet a girl's parents, though he already knew Mrs. McMercy. So much had changed, in only a few days.
Pudge and him were now...something. That was, if Pudge had been talking about the same thing he had been talking about. He hoped he had not misunderstood Pudge. He was so nervous, talking to Pudge, since they had kissed.
Ronny almost felt sick with nerves as he parked on the side of the road next to Pudge's house. Mrs. McMercy knew about the kiss. She certainly seemed friendly and eager to see him when she had invited him to Sunday dinner--not upset at all. But he had still brought some very nice and expensive flowers for her--a mixture of red and white roses--just in case.
Ronny smoothed his hair, for the tenth time, made sure the flowers were still perfect, and knocked on the door.
"I'll get it!" he heard a cheerful female voice call from inside.
Mrs. Marcy McMercy opened the door, smiling at him. She was wearing a nice red ankle-length dress and pearls, as if she were dressed up for the occasion, too.
"Come in, Ronny. Oh, you are so sweet!" she exclaimed. "Look, Pudge, he brought you flowers!"
That Sunday, Ronny was set to arrive to dinner any minute, and Pudge could not stop pacing. In his mind, he prayed for a sign, some clue that he wasn't destined for a lifetime of loneliness. That they were as ordinary as any other couple. It seemed too good to be true, that he was not meant for a lifetime of loneliness (or an eternity in hell), but what if it was true, and he missed out because of his fears of hell?
"Please, God, just give me a sign, either way," Pudge thought. "I just want to know if this is normal, or not. If it's acceptable to you, like other couples are."
If they were even a couple, that was, or on their way to being a couple. He hoped he had not misunderstood Ronny. He hoped for a sign in that area, too.
Marcy stirred the spaghetti sauce briskly, trying to do something with her nervous, nervous hands. Was she doing the right thing, by encouraging Pudge like this? What if her baby ended up in hell?
"Well, at least we'll be together," she thought. In spite of how blasphemous it was, she wanted to be with her boy, even more than she wanted to be with Jesus. God had given her Pudge, as a wonderful gift and a blessing, so why did she feel so guilty for loving him so much?
Her late husband had seemed to love God through his love of his family. She wondered why it was a great sin to be too devoted a mother. Then she felt guilty for wondering.
"Please, just give me a sign, Lord," she thought. "Even if you did create him to be with a man, is Ronny really the right choice? He's not even a believer. And how do I even know he'd be good to my Pudge?"
Ronny arrived at Pudge's house, dressed as if he had just been at church (though he obviously hadn't), in black slacks and a button-down shirt. He was much more nervous than the other times had been invited over to Pudge's house. He felt like he was going to meet a girl's parents, though he already knew Mrs. McMercy. So much had changed, in only a few days.
Pudge and him were now...something. That was, if Pudge had been talking about the same thing he had been talking about. He hoped he had not misunderstood Pudge. He was so nervous, talking to Pudge, since they had kissed.
Ronny almost felt sick with nerves as he parked on the side of the road next to Pudge's house. Mrs. McMercy knew about the kiss. She certainly seemed friendly and eager to see him when she had invited him to Sunday dinner--not upset at all. But he had still brought some very nice and expensive flowers for her--a mixture of red and white roses--just in case.
Ronny smoothed his hair, for the tenth time, made sure the flowers were still perfect, and knocked on the door.
"I'll get it!" he heard a cheerful female voice call from inside.
Mrs. Marcy McMercy opened the door, smiling at him. She was wearing a nice red ankle-length dress and pearls, as if she were dressed up for the occasion, too.
"Come in, Ronny. Oh, you are so sweet!" she exclaimed. "Look, Pudge, he brought you flowers!"
It's Official: Pudge And Ronny, Chapter 35
This is my Accelerated Christian Education fan fiction, the first ACE fan fiction ever on the internet, to my knowledge. You can see more chapters on the "Gay Christian Fanfiction" page at the top of this blog, or on my Deviant Art page here.
Shortly after Happy stopped responding to his texts, Pudge got a call on his cell phone. To his surprise, the number on the screen was Ronny's!
"Uh...hello?" he asked, overly casual.
"Hey, Pudge, um, it's Ronny," the other young man said, sounding a little nervous. Pudge wondered how someone as unflappably smooth and confident as Ronny could be nervous.
"Oh. Hi, Ronny," he said, unsure what else to say.
"Yeah. So, um...you know your mom called me earlier and invited me to dinner Sunday?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah. She did it right in front of me. Why? Do you not want to come?"
"Oh, no. I do. I just...I was just wondering, um..."
"What is it, Ronny?" Pudge prompted.
"Does she know...you know...what happened?" Ronny asked haltingly.
Pudge got a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ronny wouldn't like the answer. "Yes. She knows. She dragged it out of me," he added quickly.
"Fuck!" Ronny swore, startling Pudge. "So she's trying to evangelize me?!"
"No! No, of course not! She knows you don't like that."
"So why'd she invite me to dinner?"
"Well..." Pudge took a deep breath, his heart racing. "I think she thinks we're...you know...like...a couple or something," Pudge spoke the last few words very quickly, otherwise he would not have been able to say them at all.
"Oh." Ronny was silent for a long, uncomfortable moment. "So...are we...um..."
"Are we...are we what?" Pudge asked, though he thought he knew what Ronny was trying to say.
"Are we...you know...what she thinks we are?"
"Um...I don't know. What do you want to do?"
"Well, I was just asking because, well, I didn't know what you wanted to do. I mean, if you're okay with it..." Ronny trailed off.
"Yeah," Pudge said, a little too quickly. "I mean, yeah. Yeah, I think I'm okay with it. Are...are you okay with it?"
"Um...yeah. Yeah, I think I'm okay with it. Are you okay with it?" Ronny asked.
"Yeah, I just told you I was okay with it," Pudge replied, nervously.
"Okay."
"Okay," Pudge repeated, not sure what to say now.
"So...you know, um...that thing...the thing that happened...?" Ronny began, his voice becoming a little higher, "So it was...was it a...was it a one-time thing, or....?"
"Uh..." Pudge answered, at a loss for words. "I don't know. Do you, um...do you want it to be, or...?"
"Oh, I don't...ha-ha! I don't know," Ronny laughed nervously. "I just thought, maybe, you know, that you didn't like it, or...or something..."
"Oh no, I liked it..." Pudge replied. "I mean, I didn't LIKE it, but I...I mean, I didn't NOT like it, it was...I mean, I liked it, but not like THAT, I mean..." Pudge struggled for words. "I'm leaning towards...I liked it...a little more than I didn't like it, I guess?"
"Yeah! Me too!" Ronny replied, then seemed embarrassed by his enthusiasm. "I mean...you know what I mean..."
"Yeah. I do. Exactly. So...I guess I'll see you Sunday?" Pudge asked, trying to change the subject.
"Yeah. Sure. Sunday. I'll see you Sunday. Bye."
"Bye."
After he hung up, Pudge could finally breathe. He thought for sure that Ronny was calling to take back what had happened, swear Pudge to secrecy, defensively declare his straightness, deny his part in what had happened...
But no. He and Ronny were...
Pudge could hardly bring himself to say it, even in his mind. He and Ronny were...
A couple. Dating (courting?). Seeing each other.
The thought was only a whisper, in his head, but Pudge held onto it, his face turning red.
He finally understood all of the stories he had heard over the years of his classmates' crushes (even though they, as pure Christian kids dedicated to courtship, had tried not to act upon them). He finally felt the racing heart, the nerves, the feeling that he just wanted to see Ronny, but was too nervous to even bear it!
This was not the way he had felt towards any girl. This was so much stronger, so much deeper as a feeling....
This felt different than anything he had ever felt, or tried to to feel, for a girl.
This felt different. This felt right.
Which was why he was so scared that it was wrong. He couldn't just trust whatever felt right to him, to be right. So was everything that felt right, wrong?
Pudge went to sleep quickly after that, too tired and nervous to think about this matter anymore. He didn't have to think about it, when he was sleeping.
Shortly after Happy stopped responding to his texts, Pudge got a call on his cell phone. To his surprise, the number on the screen was Ronny's!
"Uh...hello?" he asked, overly casual.
"Hey, Pudge, um, it's Ronny," the other young man said, sounding a little nervous. Pudge wondered how someone as unflappably smooth and confident as Ronny could be nervous.
"Oh. Hi, Ronny," he said, unsure what else to say.
"Yeah. So, um...you know your mom called me earlier and invited me to dinner Sunday?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah. She did it right in front of me. Why? Do you not want to come?"
"Oh, no. I do. I just...I was just wondering, um..."
"What is it, Ronny?" Pudge prompted.
"Does she know...you know...what happened?" Ronny asked haltingly.
Pudge got a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ronny wouldn't like the answer. "Yes. She knows. She dragged it out of me," he added quickly.
"Fuck!" Ronny swore, startling Pudge. "So she's trying to evangelize me?!"
"No! No, of course not! She knows you don't like that."
"So why'd she invite me to dinner?"
"Well..." Pudge took a deep breath, his heart racing. "I think she thinks we're...you know...like...a couple or something," Pudge spoke the last few words very quickly, otherwise he would not have been able to say them at all.
"Oh." Ronny was silent for a long, uncomfortable moment. "So...are we...um..."
"Are we...are we what?" Pudge asked, though he thought he knew what Ronny was trying to say.
"Are we...you know...what she thinks we are?"
"Um...I don't know. What do you want to do?"
"Well, I was just asking because, well, I didn't know what you wanted to do. I mean, if you're okay with it..." Ronny trailed off.
"Yeah," Pudge said, a little too quickly. "I mean, yeah. Yeah, I think I'm okay with it. Are...are you okay with it?"
"Um...yeah. Yeah, I think I'm okay with it. Are you okay with it?" Ronny asked.
"Yeah, I just told you I was okay with it," Pudge replied, nervously.
"Okay."
"Okay," Pudge repeated, not sure what to say now.
"So...you know, um...that thing...the thing that happened...?" Ronny began, his voice becoming a little higher, "So it was...was it a...was it a one-time thing, or....?"
"Uh..." Pudge answered, at a loss for words. "I don't know. Do you, um...do you want it to be, or...?"
"Oh, I don't...ha-ha! I don't know," Ronny laughed nervously. "I just thought, maybe, you know, that you didn't like it, or...or something..."
"Oh no, I liked it..." Pudge replied. "I mean, I didn't LIKE it, but I...I mean, I didn't NOT like it, it was...I mean, I liked it, but not like THAT, I mean..." Pudge struggled for words. "I'm leaning towards...I liked it...a little more than I didn't like it, I guess?"
"Yeah! Me too!" Ronny replied, then seemed embarrassed by his enthusiasm. "I mean...you know what I mean..."
"Yeah. I do. Exactly. So...I guess I'll see you Sunday?" Pudge asked, trying to change the subject.
"Yeah. Sure. Sunday. I'll see you Sunday. Bye."
"Bye."
After he hung up, Pudge could finally breathe. He thought for sure that Ronny was calling to take back what had happened, swear Pudge to secrecy, defensively declare his straightness, deny his part in what had happened...
But no. He and Ronny were...
Pudge could hardly bring himself to say it, even in his mind. He and Ronny were...
A couple. Dating (courting?). Seeing each other.
The thought was only a whisper, in his head, but Pudge held onto it, his face turning red.
He finally understood all of the stories he had heard over the years of his classmates' crushes (even though they, as pure Christian kids dedicated to courtship, had tried not to act upon them). He finally felt the racing heart, the nerves, the feeling that he just wanted to see Ronny, but was too nervous to even bear it!
This was not the way he had felt towards any girl. This was so much stronger, so much deeper as a feeling....
This felt different than anything he had ever felt, or tried to to feel, for a girl.
This felt different. This felt right.
Which was why he was so scared that it was wrong. He couldn't just trust whatever felt right to him, to be right. So was everything that felt right, wrong?
Pudge went to sleep quickly after that, too tired and nervous to think about this matter anymore. He didn't have to think about it, when he was sleeping.
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Jesus Was Bisexual (According To The Bi-ble)
"Jesus was bi, this I know
For the Bi-ble tells me so
'Tempted in every way, without sin,'
But straight guys don't like other men!"
I wrote an additional lyric to the famous "Jesus Loves Me" song. I was inspired to write that verse after remembering that the New Testament says that Jesus was "tempted in every way, like as we are, but without sin." (And this is to say nothing of the young man wearing only a shirt, who appeared when Jesus was being arrested--or of the "disciple whom Jesus loved"!)
Normally, I really hate when people take one single verse out of context, but I have researched it, and I see absolutely nothing, in the context of the text, to contradict what was just said. Jesus was tempted in every way, like as we are. And the writer does not indicate that he is only addressing straight people.
If one believes in sexual sin (which I don't, as long as it's between fully consenting adults and harms no one), then one cannot escape the conclusion that Jesus tempted in that way, too. And therefore, if gay sex is a sin (not my beliefs, but the belief of some people), then Jesus was tempted to do it. And the very definition of being straight, is that one is only attracted to the opposite sex.
I have shared this with probably dozens of people over the past few months, since making this discovery, and so many people simply don't understand (or don't want to understand) what I'm talking about.
They think I am saying that he had actual gay sex. They don't know the difference between sexual orientation, and sexual behavior, which are not necessarily the same thing. They think that one has to fuck their way into the gay club, to put it bluntly.
One person even flat-out denied that Jesus was tempted in every way. He explained that Jesus was only tempted in the way that was strongest for him. In other words, he read the meaning, "tempted in ONE way," into the phrase, "tempted in EVERY way"!
Now, the bible could very well be translated wrong (and it is, when it comes to the "gay-bashing" verses), but as far as I know, there is nothing to indicate that the phrase "every way" means anything but "every way." (If someone has found evidence for that, I would love to see it, please. Thank you.)
I believe anti-gay Christians' reluctance to accept their gay Savior comes from two sources:
1) They are simply uncomfortable with the idea of any Christian, much less Christ, being gay.
2) They themselves have been tempted by the same sex, at one time or another, and they still want to think of themselves as 100% straight.
The awful people refuse to accept the idea that one can be gay and a virgin, just as one can be straight and a virgin. Which forces me to conclude that they are not actually against certain sex acts, but against the people who are tempted to have such sex acts. (Or, that they would prefer LGBT people to lie, and say that they are straight, or lie by omission and let people assume that they are straight.)
And when I think about the fact that Jesus befriended prostitutes, tax collectors, and other sinners (and no doubt some of them were LGBTQ), Christians' discomfort with LGBTQ people makes them look nothing like the person they claim they want to emulate the most.
And it makes me wonder...what if Jesus himself told them that? What if they found out that, indeed, their Savior is not straight (or asexual) as they picture him? Would they then accept LGBT people--or would they turn their backs on them--and therefore, on him?
I'm not sure I truly want to know the answer to that question. Luckily, more and more Christians and other religious people are accepting LGBT people. And some of most loving and joyful people I know are gay Christians--though normally, I have found such joy to be very rare among those who are the most devout and church-going. But the gay and affirming Christians I have seen most definitely have what is called the Fruit of the Spirit--love, joy, peace, self-control, and all of the rest, which the homophobes are very much lacking in.
That is why I am convinced that being against LGBT people/love/relationships/etc, makes one very unhappy, whether they "want" to be against it, or not. I know I was very unhappy when I thought I "had" to be anti-gay. And I thank God, if there is a God, that I now know that I don't "have" to believe that way.
I know that I tried so very hard to be a good Christian, at one time. And I know that I was sincere. I didn't just "forget" to pray the sinner's prayer and mean it. So if there is a Savior, then I have a Savior. And if I have a Savior, then that Savior was (and maybe still is) bisexual--like me! :)
For the Bi-ble tells me so
'Tempted in every way, without sin,'
But straight guys don't like other men!"
I wrote an additional lyric to the famous "Jesus Loves Me" song. I was inspired to write that verse after remembering that the New Testament says that Jesus was "tempted in every way, like as we are, but without sin." (And this is to say nothing of the young man wearing only a shirt, who appeared when Jesus was being arrested--or of the "disciple whom Jesus loved"!)
Normally, I really hate when people take one single verse out of context, but I have researched it, and I see absolutely nothing, in the context of the text, to contradict what was just said. Jesus was tempted in every way, like as we are. And the writer does not indicate that he is only addressing straight people.
If one believes in sexual sin (which I don't, as long as it's between fully consenting adults and harms no one), then one cannot escape the conclusion that Jesus tempted in that way, too. And therefore, if gay sex is a sin (not my beliefs, but the belief of some people), then Jesus was tempted to do it. And the very definition of being straight, is that one is only attracted to the opposite sex.
I have shared this with probably dozens of people over the past few months, since making this discovery, and so many people simply don't understand (or don't want to understand) what I'm talking about.
They think I am saying that he had actual gay sex. They don't know the difference between sexual orientation, and sexual behavior, which are not necessarily the same thing. They think that one has to fuck their way into the gay club, to put it bluntly.
One person even flat-out denied that Jesus was tempted in every way. He explained that Jesus was only tempted in the way that was strongest for him. In other words, he read the meaning, "tempted in ONE way," into the phrase, "tempted in EVERY way"!
Now, the bible could very well be translated wrong (and it is, when it comes to the "gay-bashing" verses), but as far as I know, there is nothing to indicate that the phrase "every way" means anything but "every way." (If someone has found evidence for that, I would love to see it, please. Thank you.)
I believe anti-gay Christians' reluctance to accept their gay Savior comes from two sources:
1) They are simply uncomfortable with the idea of any Christian, much less Christ, being gay.
2) They themselves have been tempted by the same sex, at one time or another, and they still want to think of themselves as 100% straight.
The awful people refuse to accept the idea that one can be gay and a virgin, just as one can be straight and a virgin. Which forces me to conclude that they are not actually against certain sex acts, but against the people who are tempted to have such sex acts. (Or, that they would prefer LGBT people to lie, and say that they are straight, or lie by omission and let people assume that they are straight.)
And when I think about the fact that Jesus befriended prostitutes, tax collectors, and other sinners (and no doubt some of them were LGBTQ), Christians' discomfort with LGBTQ people makes them look nothing like the person they claim they want to emulate the most.
And it makes me wonder...what if Jesus himself told them that? What if they found out that, indeed, their Savior is not straight (or asexual) as they picture him? Would they then accept LGBT people--or would they turn their backs on them--and therefore, on him?
I'm not sure I truly want to know the answer to that question. Luckily, more and more Christians and other religious people are accepting LGBT people. And some of most loving and joyful people I know are gay Christians--though normally, I have found such joy to be very rare among those who are the most devout and church-going. But the gay and affirming Christians I have seen most definitely have what is called the Fruit of the Spirit--love, joy, peace, self-control, and all of the rest, which the homophobes are very much lacking in.
That is why I am convinced that being against LGBT people/love/relationships/etc, makes one very unhappy, whether they "want" to be against it, or not. I know I was very unhappy when I thought I "had" to be anti-gay. And I thank God, if there is a God, that I now know that I don't "have" to believe that way.
I know that I tried so very hard to be a good Christian, at one time. And I know that I was sincere. I didn't just "forget" to pray the sinner's prayer and mean it. So if there is a Savior, then I have a Savior. And if I have a Savior, then that Savior was (and maybe still is) bisexual--like me! :)
Not Alone: Pudge And Ronny, Chapter 34
This is my Accelerated Christian Education fan fiction, the very first ACE fan fiction on the internet, that I know of. You can find more chapters on the "Gay Christian Fanfiction" page at the top of the blog, or on my Deviant Art page here.
"Oh, my goodness! Okay, Donny, you can stay here. Come right over. I'll see you soon. Love you, Donny." Mrs. Hannah Humble hung up the phone, returning to the dinner table. She normally didn't answer the phone during dinner, but Donny lived by himself, and there was a very windy storm outside.
"What was that about, honey?" her husband asked.
"The electricity to Donny's house got cut off. A tree fell, and he doesn't know when he can get someone out there to restore it. It was between the tiny house he built from that shed, and the main house."
Happy tried not to smile, for Uncle Donny was his favorite, but his father disagreed with his brother-in-law's Christian universalist beliefs. "How...long...will he stay here?" Happy asked.
"I don't know, Happy," Mom replied. "I do hope he doesn't expect his chickens to move into the house with us, too, though."
Uncle Donny arrived about an hour later, a large dog kennel in the back of his old truck. The dog, a small white terrier named George, was sitting beside him in the cab. Donny Lovejoy was a thin, very active man in his sixties, with iron-gray hair, hazel eyes, and what seemed like a perpetual grin on his face. Happy was very excited to see him.
Uncle Donny greeted him with a hug. "How's my favorite nephew?" he asked.
"Good," Happy replied simply, beaming at him.
"Wonderful. Help me get these chickens out of here, will you?"
A squawk from the kennel told him that Uncle Donny had indeed brought his two hens and one rooster with him. After getting the kennel to the backyard, Happy and his parents led Uncle Donny into the house, where they sat down on the couch and chairs to talk.
"Are you hungry, Donny?" Mom asked. "We have some leftovers from dinner..."
"That's very nice, thank you, but I already ate. You are a good cook, though, Hannah."
"Thank you," she smiled. "It must have been quite an ordeal."
"Oh, it was. And I don't much mind it, except I'm kind of getting on in years, you know, and it's nice not to be out there alone with no power in that tiny house."
"Yes, I often worry about you, being out there by yourself," Mom nodded.
"Why...didn't you...ever...get married?" Happy asked.
His uncle shrugged. "Well, I guess I just never met the right guy."
Happy's father started coughing into his water glass.
"You all right there, Harry?" Donny asked, concerned.
"I...yes, I think so. Did you just say the right GUY?" he asked, when he had recovered.
"Well, uh, yeah. I...I thought I was out to you." He looked over at his sister, puzzled.
"Well...anyway, Donny, you must be very tired, after what happened tonight," Hannah said smoothly. "Why don't I show you where you'll be sleeping?"
Happy sat very still, his heart racing. His father was giving him a scrutinizing look, but Happy stared straight ahead, using all of his willpower to make sure that his face was perfectly blank. Perhaps his father would think that he hadn't caught that.
"Hannah," Dad called, following her, Uncle Donny, and the dog, "Can I talk to you?"
As soon as he was gone, Happy sighed in relief, breaking out into a huge grin. He had an ally in the house! Finally, after what seemed like years, he had someone on his side on this issue! As much as his parents had tried to discourage him from making friends with other LGBT Christians, he was finally not alone!
"Oh, my goodness! Okay, Donny, you can stay here. Come right over. I'll see you soon. Love you, Donny." Mrs. Hannah Humble hung up the phone, returning to the dinner table. She normally didn't answer the phone during dinner, but Donny lived by himself, and there was a very windy storm outside.
"What was that about, honey?" her husband asked.
"The electricity to Donny's house got cut off. A tree fell, and he doesn't know when he can get someone out there to restore it. It was between the tiny house he built from that shed, and the main house."
Happy tried not to smile, for Uncle Donny was his favorite, but his father disagreed with his brother-in-law's Christian universalist beliefs. "How...long...will he stay here?" Happy asked.
"I don't know, Happy," Mom replied. "I do hope he doesn't expect his chickens to move into the house with us, too, though."
Uncle Donny arrived about an hour later, a large dog kennel in the back of his old truck. The dog, a small white terrier named George, was sitting beside him in the cab. Donny Lovejoy was a thin, very active man in his sixties, with iron-gray hair, hazel eyes, and what seemed like a perpetual grin on his face. Happy was very excited to see him.
Uncle Donny greeted him with a hug. "How's my favorite nephew?" he asked.
"Good," Happy replied simply, beaming at him.
"Wonderful. Help me get these chickens out of here, will you?"
A squawk from the kennel told him that Uncle Donny had indeed brought his two hens and one rooster with him. After getting the kennel to the backyard, Happy and his parents led Uncle Donny into the house, where they sat down on the couch and chairs to talk.
"Are you hungry, Donny?" Mom asked. "We have some leftovers from dinner..."
"That's very nice, thank you, but I already ate. You are a good cook, though, Hannah."
"Thank you," she smiled. "It must have been quite an ordeal."
"Oh, it was. And I don't much mind it, except I'm kind of getting on in years, you know, and it's nice not to be out there alone with no power in that tiny house."
"Yes, I often worry about you, being out there by yourself," Mom nodded.
"Why...didn't you...ever...get married?" Happy asked.
His uncle shrugged. "Well, I guess I just never met the right guy."
Happy's father started coughing into his water glass.
"You all right there, Harry?" Donny asked, concerned.
"I...yes, I think so. Did you just say the right GUY?" he asked, when he had recovered.
"Well, uh, yeah. I...I thought I was out to you." He looked over at his sister, puzzled.
"Well...anyway, Donny, you must be very tired, after what happened tonight," Hannah said smoothly. "Why don't I show you where you'll be sleeping?"
Happy sat very still, his heart racing. His father was giving him a scrutinizing look, but Happy stared straight ahead, using all of his willpower to make sure that his face was perfectly blank. Perhaps his father would think that he hadn't caught that.
"Hannah," Dad called, following her, Uncle Donny, and the dog, "Can I talk to you?"
As soon as he was gone, Happy sighed in relief, breaking out into a huge grin. He had an ally in the house! Finally, after what seemed like years, he had someone on his side on this issue! As much as his parents had tried to discourage him from making friends with other LGBT Christians, he was finally not alone!
Happy's Rant: Pudge And Ronny, Chapter 33
This is my Accelerated Christian Education fan fiction, the very first ACE fan fiction on the internet, to my knowledge. I have more chapters on the "Gay Christian Fanfiction" page at the top of this blog, and on my Deviant Art page here.
After dinner, Pudge still could not stop thinking about what had happened earlier with Ronny. His mother was very loving and supportive, but she wasn't exactly in his situation. He had no one to talk to.
Then he remembered that he DID! He rushed to his room to text Happy.
"Happy, I went to see Ronny tonight, to tell him about the things you said, and he kissed me," Pudge wrote.
Happy replied right away. "Really? That's awesome! =D"
"No, it's not! My mom's invited him over for Sunday dinner, and I don't know what to do."
"Are you going to kiss him again?"
"No! I don't know. He's not even a believer."
"We'll fix that."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Happy. He's very skittish."
"Why did your mom invite him?" Happy asked.
"I don't know. She said he was her future son-in-law."
"You're lucky. My parents are not as affirming. It's difficult for them, and they think it's a choice. I've got my uncle Donny, though. I think he's affirming."
"Well, I don't know if she's doing the right thing. What if we're wrong, about all of this?"
"Pray for guidance. That's what I do."
"That's what I've been doing, all my life. How do I know, though?"
"I'm not sure. I guess it's easy for me, since I'm single."
"Well, I guess I'm going to remain single, for now, especially regarding someone like Ronny. I'm not getting married until I know for sure that God's okay with it," Pudge texted back, steeling his resolve.
"Must be nice to have the choice," Happy wrote back, which struck Pudge as a bit sarcastic.
"Happy...I'm sure you could find someone, if you wanted to," Pudge wrote, unsure of what else to say.
"As if my parents would let me. Even if I was straight, they might not let me. You have no idea what it's like living in this house, with parents who think you're sinning just by calling yourself gay. Well, what do you call someone who doesn't like girls, when talking about the fact that you don't like girls? Do you how hard it was to come out to them? And then"
The text stopped abruptly. "I have to go. My mom's calling me to dinner," Happy typed back shortly.
"Goodbye, Happy. Thank you for all of your support," Pudge replied, but got no answer.
After dinner, Pudge still could not stop thinking about what had happened earlier with Ronny. His mother was very loving and supportive, but she wasn't exactly in his situation. He had no one to talk to.
Then he remembered that he DID! He rushed to his room to text Happy.
"Happy, I went to see Ronny tonight, to tell him about the things you said, and he kissed me," Pudge wrote.
Happy replied right away. "Really? That's awesome! =D"
"No, it's not! My mom's invited him over for Sunday dinner, and I don't know what to do."
"Are you going to kiss him again?"
"No! I don't know. He's not even a believer."
"We'll fix that."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Happy. He's very skittish."
"Why did your mom invite him?" Happy asked.
"I don't know. She said he was her future son-in-law."
"You're lucky. My parents are not as affirming. It's difficult for them, and they think it's a choice. I've got my uncle Donny, though. I think he's affirming."
"Well, I don't know if she's doing the right thing. What if we're wrong, about all of this?"
"Pray for guidance. That's what I do."
"That's what I've been doing, all my life. How do I know, though?"
"I'm not sure. I guess it's easy for me, since I'm single."
"Well, I guess I'm going to remain single, for now, especially regarding someone like Ronny. I'm not getting married until I know for sure that God's okay with it," Pudge texted back, steeling his resolve.
"Must be nice to have the choice," Happy wrote back, which struck Pudge as a bit sarcastic.
"Happy...I'm sure you could find someone, if you wanted to," Pudge wrote, unsure of what else to say.
"As if my parents would let me. Even if I was straight, they might not let me. You have no idea what it's like living in this house, with parents who think you're sinning just by calling yourself gay. Well, what do you call someone who doesn't like girls, when talking about the fact that you don't like girls? Do you how hard it was to come out to them? And then"
The text stopped abruptly. "I have to go. My mom's calling me to dinner," Happy typed back shortly.
"Goodbye, Happy. Thank you for all of your support," Pudge replied, but got no answer.
Thursday, March 24, 2016
How To Deal With Bigots And Awful People, Without Feeling Awful
I have a very kind gay Christian friend, whose husband recently shared on Facebook that an old work colleague had recently contacted him to remember the good times she had had working with him (my mom says this was probably a ruse, since this woman had probably heard he was divorced and thought he was newly single and ready to Christian mingle). He told her all that was going on his life. Hours later, she contacted him again, saying that her Christian witness was damaged if she didn't "call you out on your lifestyle."
He went on:
With all the love and gentleness I could muster, I explained to her that being gay isn't a choice. That for many years I tried to pray away the gay. That I had lost my biological family because they can't condone my lifestyle either. And that what had damaged her witness with me was that she felt the need to change from loving me to feeling the need to call me out as a sinner.
The church in general, and evangelical Christians in particular, have no idea how much they hurt LGBT people!
I don't know that I fully agree with him. I think for the most part, the church knows how much they hurt LGBT people. But they think their loving God makes them.
When I come across these people (though I try to avoid them, whenever possible), I find myself saying things like, "I don't need your permission to be a Christian or have a relationship with God." And, "If it bothers you that gay people do not commit to lifelong celibacy, then I invite you to lead by example."
But those things are only what I say to other people. What matters even more, is what I say to myself.
There are negative messages coming from these people, to me. So I have to counteract them with positive messages, from me. I have to be on my own side, even if the awful people are not.
Through gathering signatures for my atheist club at school (when I thought of myself as an atheist), and finding a way to combat nervousness, I learned how to say the same thing to myself, over and over again in my mind. This skill has come in handy, in more ways than one.
So I have a secret weapon, to build myself up, when the bullies and awful people wish to tear me down and make me doubt myself. And the best part is, these people don't even know that I'm using it. They don't even know that I have it--maybe they don't even know that it exists. If you yourself are in a bad situation, you can use this to combat the negative messages that you are receiving, and regain your confidence and love of yourself.
My secret weapon (or rather, my secret shield) is this: I say to myself, over and over again in my own mind, "I love you AJ, I love you AJ, I love you AJ," constantly, dozens of times, as many times as I need to, in order to feel better.
I did share what I did, with my friend quoted above, and I hope it helped. It certainly has helped me.
It puts a barrier between myself and others. It reminds me that I am on my own side, even if they aren't.
Sometimes when I'm lying in bed, especially--when I have no distractions--I use this technique. I don't just use the one phrase, either.
"God is glad, he made me gay," I remind myself.
"Everything will be all right."
"I did everything I could for him," when thinking about my late cat, and feeling guilty.
"It's a game," when thinking about work, and feeling unproductive.
And always, "I love you AJ, I love you AJ, I love you AJ," when I don't feel I am being treated with love, by others.
I'm sure you can think of other things, to use for yourself.
I do this when I'm not even being judged, too. Any time I need to feel better, I do this. And it's made me feel a lot better.
I try to avoid negative statements, such as "They don't matter," because I'm afraid my subconscious brain will only understand positive statements, and think that they do matter. But anything else that helps, I use that (because I think that if God is good, then he has no problem with LGBT people--and if he does have a problem, then he's not good--and not to be flippant, but in that case, I don't want to know him anyway). And in this one life I know I have, I want to love myself, and be completely at peace with myself. And if I have to believe something, then it's going to be that I am just fine the way I am.
"I'm just fine, the way I am. I'm just fine, the way I am. I'm just fine, the way I am..."
He went on:
With all the love and gentleness I could muster, I explained to her that being gay isn't a choice. That for many years I tried to pray away the gay. That I had lost my biological family because they can't condone my lifestyle either. And that what had damaged her witness with me was that she felt the need to change from loving me to feeling the need to call me out as a sinner.
The church in general, and evangelical Christians in particular, have no idea how much they hurt LGBT people!
I don't know that I fully agree with him. I think for the most part, the church knows how much they hurt LGBT people. But they think their loving God makes them.
When I come across these people (though I try to avoid them, whenever possible), I find myself saying things like, "I don't need your permission to be a Christian or have a relationship with God." And, "If it bothers you that gay people do not commit to lifelong celibacy, then I invite you to lead by example."
But those things are only what I say to other people. What matters even more, is what I say to myself.
There are negative messages coming from these people, to me. So I have to counteract them with positive messages, from me. I have to be on my own side, even if the awful people are not.
Through gathering signatures for my atheist club at school (when I thought of myself as an atheist), and finding a way to combat nervousness, I learned how to say the same thing to myself, over and over again in my mind. This skill has come in handy, in more ways than one.
So I have a secret weapon, to build myself up, when the bullies and awful people wish to tear me down and make me doubt myself. And the best part is, these people don't even know that I'm using it. They don't even know that I have it--maybe they don't even know that it exists. If you yourself are in a bad situation, you can use this to combat the negative messages that you are receiving, and regain your confidence and love of yourself.
My secret weapon (or rather, my secret shield) is this: I say to myself, over and over again in my own mind, "I love you AJ, I love you AJ, I love you AJ," constantly, dozens of times, as many times as I need to, in order to feel better.
I did share what I did, with my friend quoted above, and I hope it helped. It certainly has helped me.
It puts a barrier between myself and others. It reminds me that I am on my own side, even if they aren't.
Sometimes when I'm lying in bed, especially--when I have no distractions--I use this technique. I don't just use the one phrase, either.
"God is glad, he made me gay," I remind myself.
"Everything will be all right."
"I did everything I could for him," when thinking about my late cat, and feeling guilty.
"It's a game," when thinking about work, and feeling unproductive.
And always, "I love you AJ, I love you AJ, I love you AJ," when I don't feel I am being treated with love, by others.
I'm sure you can think of other things, to use for yourself.
I do this when I'm not even being judged, too. Any time I need to feel better, I do this. And it's made me feel a lot better.
I try to avoid negative statements, such as "They don't matter," because I'm afraid my subconscious brain will only understand positive statements, and think that they do matter. But anything else that helps, I use that (because I think that if God is good, then he has no problem with LGBT people--and if he does have a problem, then he's not good--and not to be flippant, but in that case, I don't want to know him anyway). And in this one life I know I have, I want to love myself, and be completely at peace with myself. And if I have to believe something, then it's going to be that I am just fine the way I am.
"I'm just fine, the way I am. I'm just fine, the way I am. I'm just fine, the way I am..."
Happy's Rant: Pudge And Ronny, Chapter 33
This is my Accelerated Christian Education fan fiction, the first ACE fan fiction ever, that I know of. ACE is a very conservative Christian curriculum/cartoon, and here I've gone and made the unbeliever and one of the believers a gay couple. Oops, clumsy me!
To see more chapters, see the "Gay Christian Fanfiction" page at the top of this blog, or my Deviant Art page here.
After dinner, Pudge still could not stop thinking about what had happened earlier with Ronny. His mother was very loving and supportive, but she wasn't exactly in his situation. He had no one to talk to.
Then he remembered that he DID! He rushed to his room to text Happy.
"Happy, I went to see Ronny tonight, to tell him about the things you said, and he kissed me," Pudge wrote.
Happy replied right away. "Really? That's awesome! =D"
"No, it's not! My mom's invited him over for Sunday dinner, and I don't know what to do."
"Are you going to kiss him again?"
"No! I don't know. He's not even a believer."
"We'll fix that."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Happy. He's very skittish."
"Why did your mom invite him?" Happy asked.
"I don't know. She said he was her future son-in-law."
"You're lucky. My parents are not as affirming. It's difficult for them, and they think it's a choice. I've got my uncle Donny, though. I think he's affirming."
"Well, I don't know if she's doing the right thing. What if we're wrong, about all of this?"
"Pray for guidance. That's what I do."
"That's what I've been doing, all my life. How do I know, though?"
"I'm not sure. I guess it's easy for me, since I'm single."
"Well, I guess I'm going to remain single, for now, especially regarding someone like Ronny. I'm not getting married until I know for sure that God's okay with it," Pudge texted back, steeling his resolve.
"Must be nice to have the choice," Happy wrote back, which struck Pudge as a bit sarcastic.
"Happy...I'm sure you could find someone, if you wanted to," Pudge wrote, unsure of what else to say.
"As if my parents would let me. Even if I was straight, they might not let me. You have no idea what it's like living in this house, with parents who think you're sinning just by calling yourself gay. Well, what do you call someone who doesn't like girls, when talking about the fact that you don't like girls? Do you how hard it was to come out to them? And then"
The text stopped abruptly. "I have to go. My mom's calling me to dinner," Happy typed back shortly.
"Goodbye, Happy. Thank you for all of your support," Pudge replied, but got no answer.
To see more chapters, see the "Gay Christian Fanfiction" page at the top of this blog, or my Deviant Art page here.
After dinner, Pudge still could not stop thinking about what had happened earlier with Ronny. His mother was very loving and supportive, but she wasn't exactly in his situation. He had no one to talk to.
Then he remembered that he DID! He rushed to his room to text Happy.
"Happy, I went to see Ronny tonight, to tell him about the things you said, and he kissed me," Pudge wrote.
Happy replied right away. "Really? That's awesome! =D"
"No, it's not! My mom's invited him over for Sunday dinner, and I don't know what to do."
"Are you going to kiss him again?"
"No! I don't know. He's not even a believer."
"We'll fix that."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Happy. He's very skittish."
"Why did your mom invite him?" Happy asked.
"I don't know. She said he was her future son-in-law."
"You're lucky. My parents are not as affirming. It's difficult for them, and they think it's a choice. I've got my uncle Donny, though. I think he's affirming."
"Well, I don't know if she's doing the right thing. What if we're wrong, about all of this?"
"Pray for guidance. That's what I do."
"That's what I've been doing, all my life. How do I know, though?"
"I'm not sure. I guess it's easy for me, since I'm single."
"Well, I guess I'm going to remain single, for now, especially regarding someone like Ronny. I'm not getting married until I know for sure that God's okay with it," Pudge texted back, steeling his resolve.
"Must be nice to have the choice," Happy wrote back, which struck Pudge as a bit sarcastic.
"Happy...I'm sure you could find someone, if you wanted to," Pudge wrote, unsure of what else to say.
"As if my parents would let me. Even if I was straight, they might not let me. You have no idea what it's like living in this house, with parents who think you're sinning just by calling yourself gay. Well, what do you call someone who doesn't like girls, when talking about the fact that you don't like girls? Do you how hard it was to come out to them? And then"
The text stopped abruptly. "I have to go. My mom's calling me to dinner," Happy typed back shortly.
"Goodbye, Happy. Thank you for all of your support," Pudge replied, but got no answer.
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Minimalism: Getting Rid Of Nail Polish
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.
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.
Inviting Ronny: Pudge And Ronny, Chapter 32.5
This is my Accelerated Christian Education fan fiction, the first ACE fan fiction ever, to my knowledge. See more chapters on the "Gay Christian Fanfiction" page at the top of this blog, or on my Deviant Art page here.
I originally forgot to upload this one, which was supposed to be Chapter 33. So I just now put it on my Deviant Art page, and I'm putting it here now.
"What?! Mom, no!" Pudge cried. "What are you going to tell him?"
"That he needs to come to dinner on Sunday."
"But Mom--I don't know if that's right..." he protested. "After what happened, and he's a guy, and--and he's not even a believer!"
"I'm the one doing this, Pudge, not you," she smiled. "This one's on me. I want to get to know my future son-in-law!" she joked.
"Mom!" Pudge shouted, groaning.
"Hush! It's ringing! Oh, hello, Ronny," she said sweetly. "This is Marcy--Marcy McMercy. Yes, Pudge's mother. Pudge and I were wondering if you would like to join us for dinner on Sunday."
"Really?!"
Even Pudge heard that, on the other end of the line. Pudge was staring at her, open-mouthed.
"Yes, really, dear," she answered.
"Why?" Ronny asked, suspiciously.
"Well...because we think it would be nice to have you over, that's all. Will you come, dear?"
"Uh...yeah. Sure," he replied, sounding confused. "What time? Do I bring anything?"
She hung up shortly after; Marcy was beaming. She had never expected it to happen this way, but had looked forward to this day (or something like it) for a long time. She tried to push aside her constant, nagging doubts and just enjoy this moment. Ronny seemed like a very nice boy now, in spite of his rough beginnings.
"Why did you invite him over?!" Pudge demanded.
"I told you. I want to get to know my future son-in-law," she teased, smiling at him.
"But Mom, we don't even know if we're going to be Side A!" Pudge protested.
"Well, let's not rule out the possibility, not until we do a lot more research and praying about it," she answered, walking over to him and stroking his hair affectionately.
"Ronny doesn't even believe," Pudge said feebly.
"You're nervous, aren't you?" Marcy prodded, beaming at him again.
"No," he said quickly, blushing and looking down. "I just thought...he's not a believer...that's all..."
"You know, I got to talking with this nice universalist guy online the other day," Marcy said thoughtfully. "He thinks that everyone's going to come to know God, eventually, 'by way of Jesus Christ and the cross,' he said. Cited some verses that seemed to say that, too. If he's right, then even Ronny will eventually become a believer, anyway."
"That's impossible, Mom! What about all those verses about hell?"
"There's also the one that says that God is not willing that any should perish. I would hate to think that God doesn't get what he wants. Catholics, like your father was, believe in purgatory, you know, a kind of temporary hell."
"Was this guy Catholic?" Pudge asked.
"No. He said he used to be a 'wet Baptist.'"
"And you listen to this guy, this fake Baptist guy? He sounds homophobic," Pudge groused.
"No, he was gay. Nicest man you ever met. I almost wish I knew some nice guy who's also over sixty," she said thoughtfully.
"He's gay, too? Then he's probably biased," Pudge complained.
Marcy laughed. "No one can please you, can they, Pudge?" she smiled. "You're such a pessimist."
"I don't want to get my hopes up."
"Let's just pray for some kind of sign, either way. But I don't think God wants you to be alone, Pudge," she said. "I can't believe that."
And Marcy secretly wondered if she could ever serve a god who would do that to her precious baby. Or would she be a coward, and not stand up to Him, in order to save her own skin? And what about Pudge? How would God treat Pudge--in this life and the next? She prayed again that God would burn her instead of Pudge, if it came down to that, though she knew that according to her church, substitution was impossible--well, except for the one time, which their whole belief system was built upon...
"There's just so many questions..." Pudge said softly, as if thinking along the same lines.
"I know. And we're not going to find all of the answers tonight," Marcy answered. "Go get washed up for dinner," she said, kissing the top of his precious head.
I originally forgot to upload this one, which was supposed to be Chapter 33. So I just now put it on my Deviant Art page, and I'm putting it here now.
"What?! Mom, no!" Pudge cried. "What are you going to tell him?"
"That he needs to come to dinner on Sunday."
"But Mom--I don't know if that's right..." he protested. "After what happened, and he's a guy, and--and he's not even a believer!"
"I'm the one doing this, Pudge, not you," she smiled. "This one's on me. I want to get to know my future son-in-law!" she joked.
"Mom!" Pudge shouted, groaning.
"Hush! It's ringing! Oh, hello, Ronny," she said sweetly. "This is Marcy--Marcy McMercy. Yes, Pudge's mother. Pudge and I were wondering if you would like to join us for dinner on Sunday."
"Really?!"
Even Pudge heard that, on the other end of the line. Pudge was staring at her, open-mouthed.
"Yes, really, dear," she answered.
"Why?" Ronny asked, suspiciously.
"Well...because we think it would be nice to have you over, that's all. Will you come, dear?"
"Uh...yeah. Sure," he replied, sounding confused. "What time? Do I bring anything?"
She hung up shortly after; Marcy was beaming. She had never expected it to happen this way, but had looked forward to this day (or something like it) for a long time. She tried to push aside her constant, nagging doubts and just enjoy this moment. Ronny seemed like a very nice boy now, in spite of his rough beginnings.
"Why did you invite him over?!" Pudge demanded.
"I told you. I want to get to know my future son-in-law," she teased, smiling at him.
"But Mom, we don't even know if we're going to be Side A!" Pudge protested.
"Well, let's not rule out the possibility, not until we do a lot more research and praying about it," she answered, walking over to him and stroking his hair affectionately.
"Ronny doesn't even believe," Pudge said feebly.
"You're nervous, aren't you?" Marcy prodded, beaming at him again.
"No," he said quickly, blushing and looking down. "I just thought...he's not a believer...that's all..."
"You know, I got to talking with this nice universalist guy online the other day," Marcy said thoughtfully. "He thinks that everyone's going to come to know God, eventually, 'by way of Jesus Christ and the cross,' he said. Cited some verses that seemed to say that, too. If he's right, then even Ronny will eventually become a believer, anyway."
"That's impossible, Mom! What about all those verses about hell?"
"There's also the one that says that God is not willing that any should perish. I would hate to think that God doesn't get what he wants. Catholics, like your father was, believe in purgatory, you know, a kind of temporary hell."
"Was this guy Catholic?" Pudge asked.
"No. He said he used to be a 'wet Baptist.'"
"And you listen to this guy, this fake Baptist guy? He sounds homophobic," Pudge groused.
"No, he was gay. Nicest man you ever met. I almost wish I knew some nice guy who's also over sixty," she said thoughtfully.
"He's gay, too? Then he's probably biased," Pudge complained.
Marcy laughed. "No one can please you, can they, Pudge?" she smiled. "You're such a pessimist."
"I don't want to get my hopes up."
"Let's just pray for some kind of sign, either way. But I don't think God wants you to be alone, Pudge," she said. "I can't believe that."
And Marcy secretly wondered if she could ever serve a god who would do that to her precious baby. Or would she be a coward, and not stand up to Him, in order to save her own skin? And what about Pudge? How would God treat Pudge--in this life and the next? She prayed again that God would burn her instead of Pudge, if it came down to that, though she knew that according to her church, substitution was impossible--well, except for the one time, which their whole belief system was built upon...
"There's just so many questions..." Pudge said softly, as if thinking along the same lines.
"I know. And we're not going to find all of the answers tonight," Marcy answered. "Go get washed up for dinner," she said, kissing the top of his precious head.
Sides A And B: Pudge And Ronny, Chapter 32
This is my Accelerated Christian Education fan fiction, the first ACE fan fiction ever, to my knowledge. You can find more chapters on the "Gay Christian Fanfiction" page at the top of this blog, or on my Deviant Art page here.
It was embarrassing, the thought of talking to his mother about this, but who else could he talk to? He couldn't talk to any of his friends, or the men of his church, because they were all straight and would only tell him he was going to hell (and he knew that already!). He knew his own relationship with God, though--or at least, how hard he tried to have a relationship with God. And he didn't know what to think, about gay Christianity, but he knew he was a Christian. If he wasn't, after accepting Christ (many times), he honestly didn't know what else to do, to become one.
It was very strange. His mother was a woman, so there was that embarrassing aspect, but she also liked men, so there was that that they had in common.
"So...Ronny kissed you," she repeated.
"Yes," to hear him tell it, anyway. He hoped he wasn't really fudging the details, fibbing, or lying, but there was no use telling her the exact details.
"And you wanted Ronny to kiss you?" she asked.
"Yes. Well--no. I mean, I didn't WANT Ronny to kiss me, but I didn't NOT want Ronny to kiss me, either."
"So you were totally neutral on the subject of Ronny kissing you?"
"Yes."
"Okay. So...this thing happened. How do you feel about this, now?"
Pudge turned red. "I...I'm not sure. I mean...if God IS okay with me being...you know...then there's still the fact that Ronny's not a believer."
"But he did say that he got saved once, a long time ago, didn't he?"
"Well, yeah, but I don't know how sincere he was. And he was a kid, so what if he didn't completely understand it?"
"I don't know," she smiled wanly and patted his hand. "But I do think that God loves Ronny, and He understands his situation, and if Ronny was sincere then, God is trying to get him back."
"I know," Pudge smiled, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "But what do I do, in the meantime?" he asked, more serious now.
"Well...you know he's just going to pull away if we invite him to church, in spite of him going last week. Maybe we should just invite him to Sunday dinner or something."
Pudge's eyes widened. "Mom!"
"What?" Marcy asked, confused.
"Have you forgotten what I just told you? What just happened?"
"Oh. Right. That. Yes, well...I'm not sure what the procedure here is, Pudge. He's...let's call him, perhaps, an almost-believer? And he's a young man. So...I'm afraid everything I know about courting relates to straight couples who are both believers. I guess we have to figure out what to do about...you know," she nodded to him.
Pudge nodded back.
"I know it's a little soon to ask this, perhaps, but...what do you feel called to do, Pudge?"
"About Ronny? I don't know..."
"No. I mean, about your life. I'm not sure what the right answer here is, Pudge. I don't know if I'm Side A or Side B. But I know your heart is sincere. I know you want to please God. Do you feel called to celibacy, Pudge, or...or do you want to get married?"
"Um..." Pudge's mind was blank; he was unable to speak. "I...I don't know..." he shook his head. "I just don't know."
"If you could, would you marry a man?"
Pudge looked down at his feet, nodding. "I don't want to just...you know. I want to love someone. But I don't want to change my beliefs, just because of what I want. I'm scared to do that," he whispered. "And I'm scared that if I was Side A, as they call it, that I would be doing it. I'm scared of..." he trailed off.
"Of hell," she whispered.
Pudge nodded.
"I'm scared too, Pudge. I'm afraid to disagree with anything Pastor Alltruth says. And if I do disagree, I'm afraid it's not my place to say something, or to leave the church. But I think we'll have to leave, eventually," she added, glancing at Pudge. "I know you, of all people, wouldn't choose this, Pudge. And I know there are some people who kill themselves over this. I don't think they could have chosen it. And I know that merely being gay is not a sin. They would try to change you, and I just can't stand to see you hurt like that."
"It might hurt more, to live my whole life alone," Pudge said miserably.
"I don't believe God wants you to be alone, Pudge," Marcy answered, suddenly realizing that she meant it. "I can't ever see God wanting you to be unhappy. Maybe you are trying to change your beliefs just to suit your wants, but it's not necessarily the case. Straight people have it easy, after all, and they didn't earn that at all! Why shouldn't you have someone, too?" she asked, defiantly. Though a tiny voice in her head was screaming that she was in rebellion and would burn in hell for it, she still wondered why God would outlaw something that harmed no one and gave a lot of people a lot of happiness, even if it wasn't "God's design." She said as much.
"But Mom, supposedly it does harm people," Pudge protested. "It's apparently harming me."
"They told you that being what you are is a sin. They never told the straight kids that. And you can't tell me that straight people are made to struggle as much as gay people are. They have it easy, for no other reason than that they won life's lottery. They didn't do a thing to earn their privileges. So who are they to deny them to you?" she demanded, her anger rising.
"But what if God does?"
"Why would God be this unfair to my baby? Why would he create love, and marriage, and sex, and children, and all of these great things, and then only give them to some? I can't believe that God would not let you be as happy as that arrogant little Ace. I love that kid, but I know how he gets, sometimes. With God, all things are possible--and God could have made you straight. Why didn't He?!"
"I...I don't know," Pudge answered, almost looking scared of her.
"It seems too good to be true, the things I'm reading lately, but...I hope they are. I hope you find love someday." And I pray God burns me in hell, instead of you, if I lead you astray--God forbid, she thought.
"Thank you, Mom," Pudge said softly, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Thank you."
"You know, I too married a man that some people thought God didn't approve of," she confided. "You know your father was Catholic."
"Yes, I know."
"In fact..." she smiled, walking over to the phone.
"Mom? What are you doing?" Pudge asked, a hint of fear and confusion in his voice.
Her smile deepened. "I'm calling Ronny."
It was embarrassing, the thought of talking to his mother about this, but who else could he talk to? He couldn't talk to any of his friends, or the men of his church, because they were all straight and would only tell him he was going to hell (and he knew that already!). He knew his own relationship with God, though--or at least, how hard he tried to have a relationship with God. And he didn't know what to think, about gay Christianity, but he knew he was a Christian. If he wasn't, after accepting Christ (many times), he honestly didn't know what else to do, to become one.
It was very strange. His mother was a woman, so there was that embarrassing aspect, but she also liked men, so there was that that they had in common.
"So...Ronny kissed you," she repeated.
"Yes," to hear him tell it, anyway. He hoped he wasn't really fudging the details, fibbing, or lying, but there was no use telling her the exact details.
"And you wanted Ronny to kiss you?" she asked.
"Yes. Well--no. I mean, I didn't WANT Ronny to kiss me, but I didn't NOT want Ronny to kiss me, either."
"So you were totally neutral on the subject of Ronny kissing you?"
"Yes."
"Okay. So...this thing happened. How do you feel about this, now?"
Pudge turned red. "I...I'm not sure. I mean...if God IS okay with me being...you know...then there's still the fact that Ronny's not a believer."
"But he did say that he got saved once, a long time ago, didn't he?"
"Well, yeah, but I don't know how sincere he was. And he was a kid, so what if he didn't completely understand it?"
"I don't know," she smiled wanly and patted his hand. "But I do think that God loves Ronny, and He understands his situation, and if Ronny was sincere then, God is trying to get him back."
"I know," Pudge smiled, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "But what do I do, in the meantime?" he asked, more serious now.
"Well...you know he's just going to pull away if we invite him to church, in spite of him going last week. Maybe we should just invite him to Sunday dinner or something."
Pudge's eyes widened. "Mom!"
"What?" Marcy asked, confused.
"Have you forgotten what I just told you? What just happened?"
"Oh. Right. That. Yes, well...I'm not sure what the procedure here is, Pudge. He's...let's call him, perhaps, an almost-believer? And he's a young man. So...I'm afraid everything I know about courting relates to straight couples who are both believers. I guess we have to figure out what to do about...you know," she nodded to him.
Pudge nodded back.
"I know it's a little soon to ask this, perhaps, but...what do you feel called to do, Pudge?"
"About Ronny? I don't know..."
"No. I mean, about your life. I'm not sure what the right answer here is, Pudge. I don't know if I'm Side A or Side B. But I know your heart is sincere. I know you want to please God. Do you feel called to celibacy, Pudge, or...or do you want to get married?"
"Um..." Pudge's mind was blank; he was unable to speak. "I...I don't know..." he shook his head. "I just don't know."
"If you could, would you marry a man?"
Pudge looked down at his feet, nodding. "I don't want to just...you know. I want to love someone. But I don't want to change my beliefs, just because of what I want. I'm scared to do that," he whispered. "And I'm scared that if I was Side A, as they call it, that I would be doing it. I'm scared of..." he trailed off.
"Of hell," she whispered.
Pudge nodded.
"I'm scared too, Pudge. I'm afraid to disagree with anything Pastor Alltruth says. And if I do disagree, I'm afraid it's not my place to say something, or to leave the church. But I think we'll have to leave, eventually," she added, glancing at Pudge. "I know you, of all people, wouldn't choose this, Pudge. And I know there are some people who kill themselves over this. I don't think they could have chosen it. And I know that merely being gay is not a sin. They would try to change you, and I just can't stand to see you hurt like that."
"It might hurt more, to live my whole life alone," Pudge said miserably.
"I don't believe God wants you to be alone, Pudge," Marcy answered, suddenly realizing that she meant it. "I can't ever see God wanting you to be unhappy. Maybe you are trying to change your beliefs just to suit your wants, but it's not necessarily the case. Straight people have it easy, after all, and they didn't earn that at all! Why shouldn't you have someone, too?" she asked, defiantly. Though a tiny voice in her head was screaming that she was in rebellion and would burn in hell for it, she still wondered why God would outlaw something that harmed no one and gave a lot of people a lot of happiness, even if it wasn't "God's design." She said as much.
"But Mom, supposedly it does harm people," Pudge protested. "It's apparently harming me."
"They told you that being what you are is a sin. They never told the straight kids that. And you can't tell me that straight people are made to struggle as much as gay people are. They have it easy, for no other reason than that they won life's lottery. They didn't do a thing to earn their privileges. So who are they to deny them to you?" she demanded, her anger rising.
"But what if God does?"
"Why would God be this unfair to my baby? Why would he create love, and marriage, and sex, and children, and all of these great things, and then only give them to some? I can't believe that God would not let you be as happy as that arrogant little Ace. I love that kid, but I know how he gets, sometimes. With God, all things are possible--and God could have made you straight. Why didn't He?!"
"I...I don't know," Pudge answered, almost looking scared of her.
"It seems too good to be true, the things I'm reading lately, but...I hope they are. I hope you find love someday." And I pray God burns me in hell, instead of you, if I lead you astray--God forbid, she thought.
"Thank you, Mom," Pudge said softly, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Thank you."
"You know, I too married a man that some people thought God didn't approve of," she confided. "You know your father was Catholic."
"Yes, I know."
"In fact..." she smiled, walking over to the phone.
"Mom? What are you doing?" Pudge asked, a hint of fear and confusion in his voice.
Her smile deepened. "I'm calling Ronny."
Sunday, March 20, 2016
Christians Want Me To Deny Christ
I try to avoid arguments whenever possible, but when I stumble across awful people on the internet making awful statements, I feel compelled to respond, if I can, and at least try to help make the world a better place.
I try not to be nasty, but sometimes I am just as obnoxious as they are (even if they don't know they're being obnoxious). I most often argue with anti-gay Christians, as a gay Christian.
I don't even know what I am sometimes, other than just me, but I know that I'm more "Christian" than the arrogant, angry homophobes I come across once in a while. I know that if there is a God, then I'm much closer to him or her than they are--or, if I'm wrong, that God is someone I don't want to be close to.
Some of them are "sad" that LGBT people don't want to give up their "sin."
"If you are so bothered by gay people not committing to lifelong celibacy," I often suggest, "then I invite you to lead by example."
So far, I've gotten no response from my polite suggestion, except for the first time I suggested it, when I was already talking to someone. That time, the person tried to ignore it, because he was a horny little coward, but I didn't let him.
I don't mean to sound obnoxious, but what they are saying--basically that God plays favorites, with more rules for LGBT people--is very obnoxious indeed. I hope to show them what a sacrifice they're asking other people to make.
But lately, most of the people I've come across are not even at that level of understanding when it comes to gay Christianity. So I have to teach them, first, that being gay is not a sin, just like being straight is not a sin.
And I've found a disturbing pattern, with these Side X (good Christian men love pussy/good Christian women want the dick) people. I recently got into a discussion (over now, thankfully) with several of them, and as I recall, all of them wanted me to do something, that they likely brag that they themselves would refuse to do under torture and penalty of death.
These good Christian people want me to deny Christ.
I call myself a gay Christian in arguments, because I believe I'm more "Christian" than them, at least. And I know that there are others who are LGBT and who try harder than me to get close to and please God, so I don't really feel bad or like I'm lying.
The people I argue with say that one can't be gay and a Christian. So my choice, according to them, is to either deny Christ, or to lie and say I'm straight (or lie by omission, and let people assume). They wouldn't put it that way--deny Christ or lie--but what they don't realize is that they're asking me to do just that.
One person asked me why I didn't just call myself a Christian, instead of a gay Christian. I replied that usually, I do just call myself a Christian (when I "feel" Christian, but that's not any of his business), but that we were talking about homosexuality, for crying out loud, and I wasn't going to lie and say (or let people assume) that I was straight.
I read the Left Behind series when I was thirteen, about twelve years ago, and though I subscribed then almost wholly to LeHaye and Jenkins' views on the world and the end times, something in the books rang false to me even then. When the One World Church was established in these books, I remember that Christianity (plain, Protestant, non-Mormon, etc, Christianity) was left out. There was no representative from the Christian church, and so Christianity was not included under the Antichrist's One World umbrella.
"That's stupid!" I thought. "There will be some kind of Christian presence there, even if it's a false one!"
Now, all of the Real True Christians had been raptured to heaven at that point, but there would still be some kind of Christian presence there. At the time, I thought the false version would be the progressive, pro-choice, gay-affirming version of Christianity. But now, if there is to be any end times and any One World Church (a question to speculate on another day), I believe it would somehow include traditional evangelicalism, which is still very popular in the U.S.
This is the same system of belief that, when taken to one of its most extreme forms, says that gay people cannot be Christian (even if they're completely celibate and don't even lust), and must somehow change the unchangeable (unchangeable according to actual lived experiences of sincere gay Christians, not just speculation by straight Christians, or the rare "ex-gay" story that they think disproves thousands of other stories to the contrary). Not even LaHaye and Jenkins themselves subscribe to this idea, if their use of the phrase "practicing homosexual" in the novels is any indication.
It goes even further, too. One of Ted Cruz's favorite preachers calls for executing gay people, and all those who say that it's okay to be gay to possibly gay children. (I don't want to look up links for that upsetting news, please don't make me. But I know that it's probably not false, as it seems very genuine.) He's not the only one, too, not by a long shot.
So, if there ever is a nightmarish, apocalyptic scenario, like some people think the bible predicts, is it not too far-fetched to believe that Christians may be torturing other Christians, in order to get them to deny Christ?
People are already trying to get me to deny Christ, because of my bisexuality. They think it would be more "honest" of me to do so, so that's their justification for trying to goad me into it (though I tell them, "I don't need your permission to be a Christian, or have a relationship with God"; I often have to tell the same person many times!).
So, if you combine the idea that gays can't be Christians, with the idea that gays should be executed for being gay, and maybe throw in the belief that hell is even worse torture, and that man-made torture in this life could save someone from it...
Then that's how you get Christians to torture other Christians, in order to get them to deny Christ--with or without the other option of lying by "denouncing" one's innate sexuality. They would want LGBT Christians to deny what they believe God has done in their lives, by making them born again (and anti-gay Christians do want them/us to do that, even now).
And the worst part?
A lot of these Christians would be torturing other Christians out of love. Trying to get others to deny the Savior they themselves proudly claim...out of love and concern for the souls of "the lost."
Most anti-gay Christians would deny right now, when life is relatively easy, that they would do something like that. But when the Antichrist is also breathing down your neck, and you believe that other Christians are "lost," and any one of you could get killed at any time for claiming to be Christian (even if you believe that your LGBT friend or loved one is a false Christian), I believe that scared anti-gay Christians would do some things that are very drastic, and possibly very violent.
Assuming, of course, that it came to all of this. I don't believe Revelation was predicting what a lot people think it was, maybe even not predicting anything for modern readers at all. But that's a subject for another day.
I try not to be nasty, but sometimes I am just as obnoxious as they are (even if they don't know they're being obnoxious). I most often argue with anti-gay Christians, as a gay Christian.
I don't even know what I am sometimes, other than just me, but I know that I'm more "Christian" than the arrogant, angry homophobes I come across once in a while. I know that if there is a God, then I'm much closer to him or her than they are--or, if I'm wrong, that God is someone I don't want to be close to.
Some of them are "sad" that LGBT people don't want to give up their "sin."
"If you are so bothered by gay people not committing to lifelong celibacy," I often suggest, "then I invite you to lead by example."
So far, I've gotten no response from my polite suggestion, except for the first time I suggested it, when I was already talking to someone. That time, the person tried to ignore it, because he was a horny little coward, but I didn't let him.
I don't mean to sound obnoxious, but what they are saying--basically that God plays favorites, with more rules for LGBT people--is very obnoxious indeed. I hope to show them what a sacrifice they're asking other people to make.
But lately, most of the people I've come across are not even at that level of understanding when it comes to gay Christianity. So I have to teach them, first, that being gay is not a sin, just like being straight is not a sin.
And I've found a disturbing pattern, with these Side X (good Christian men love pussy/good Christian women want the dick) people. I recently got into a discussion (over now, thankfully) with several of them, and as I recall, all of them wanted me to do something, that they likely brag that they themselves would refuse to do under torture and penalty of death.
These good Christian people want me to deny Christ.
I call myself a gay Christian in arguments, because I believe I'm more "Christian" than them, at least. And I know that there are others who are LGBT and who try harder than me to get close to and please God, so I don't really feel bad or like I'm lying.
The people I argue with say that one can't be gay and a Christian. So my choice, according to them, is to either deny Christ, or to lie and say I'm straight (or lie by omission, and let people assume). They wouldn't put it that way--deny Christ or lie--but what they don't realize is that they're asking me to do just that.
One person asked me why I didn't just call myself a Christian, instead of a gay Christian. I replied that usually, I do just call myself a Christian (when I "feel" Christian, but that's not any of his business), but that we were talking about homosexuality, for crying out loud, and I wasn't going to lie and say (or let people assume) that I was straight.
I read the Left Behind series when I was thirteen, about twelve years ago, and though I subscribed then almost wholly to LeHaye and Jenkins' views on the world and the end times, something in the books rang false to me even then. When the One World Church was established in these books, I remember that Christianity (plain, Protestant, non-Mormon, etc, Christianity) was left out. There was no representative from the Christian church, and so Christianity was not included under the Antichrist's One World umbrella.
"That's stupid!" I thought. "There will be some kind of Christian presence there, even if it's a false one!"
Now, all of the Real True Christians had been raptured to heaven at that point, but there would still be some kind of Christian presence there. At the time, I thought the false version would be the progressive, pro-choice, gay-affirming version of Christianity. But now, if there is to be any end times and any One World Church (a question to speculate on another day), I believe it would somehow include traditional evangelicalism, which is still very popular in the U.S.
This is the same system of belief that, when taken to one of its most extreme forms, says that gay people cannot be Christian (even if they're completely celibate and don't even lust), and must somehow change the unchangeable (unchangeable according to actual lived experiences of sincere gay Christians, not just speculation by straight Christians, or the rare "ex-gay" story that they think disproves thousands of other stories to the contrary). Not even LaHaye and Jenkins themselves subscribe to this idea, if their use of the phrase "practicing homosexual" in the novels is any indication.
It goes even further, too. One of Ted Cruz's favorite preachers calls for executing gay people, and all those who say that it's okay to be gay to possibly gay children. (I don't want to look up links for that upsetting news, please don't make me. But I know that it's probably not false, as it seems very genuine.) He's not the only one, too, not by a long shot.
So, if there ever is a nightmarish, apocalyptic scenario, like some people think the bible predicts, is it not too far-fetched to believe that Christians may be torturing other Christians, in order to get them to deny Christ?
People are already trying to get me to deny Christ, because of my bisexuality. They think it would be more "honest" of me to do so, so that's their justification for trying to goad me into it (though I tell them, "I don't need your permission to be a Christian, or have a relationship with God"; I often have to tell the same person many times!).
So, if you combine the idea that gays can't be Christians, with the idea that gays should be executed for being gay, and maybe throw in the belief that hell is even worse torture, and that man-made torture in this life could save someone from it...
Then that's how you get Christians to torture other Christians, in order to get them to deny Christ--with or without the other option of lying by "denouncing" one's innate sexuality. They would want LGBT Christians to deny what they believe God has done in their lives, by making them born again (and anti-gay Christians do want them/us to do that, even now).
And the worst part?
A lot of these Christians would be torturing other Christians out of love. Trying to get others to deny the Savior they themselves proudly claim...out of love and concern for the souls of "the lost."
Most anti-gay Christians would deny right now, when life is relatively easy, that they would do something like that. But when the Antichrist is also breathing down your neck, and you believe that other Christians are "lost," and any one of you could get killed at any time for claiming to be Christian (even if you believe that your LGBT friend or loved one is a false Christian), I believe that scared anti-gay Christians would do some things that are very drastic, and possibly very violent.
Assuming, of course, that it came to all of this. I don't believe Revelation was predicting what a lot people think it was, maybe even not predicting anything for modern readers at all. But that's a subject for another day.
Marcy's Secret: Pudge And Ronny, Chapter 31
This is my Accelerated Christian Education fan fiction, the very first ACE fan fiction, that I know of, and like many other fan fiction stories, it features a gay couple which was not in the original story (especially in a conservative Christian comic strip in which the women don't wear pants). For more chapters, see the "Gay Christian Fanfiction" page at the top of this blog, or my Deviant Art page here.
When Pudge returned home, his mother was making dinner. He slunk in the door, self-consciously.
"Hey, Pudge, where have you been?" his mother asked cheerfully from the kitchen. "Visiting one of your friends?"
"I...I guess you can say that..." Pudge replied quietly, feeling sick now that he was with his mom.
"Pudge?" his mother appeared from the kitchen, looking concerned. "Pudge, what's wrong?"
"I...I went to see Ronny tonight."
His mother's eyes were wide. "Oh?" she asked, a little too casually.
"Not like that!" Pudge said quickly. "It wasn't like that, not at all!"
"Okay. I know. What happened, Pudge? Please, you can tell me. You won't get in trouble!"
"Nothing happened, Mom! Not what you're thinking of!"
"Pudge, you can tell me anything..." she said gently.
"There's nothing to tell! Not what you think, anyway!" he added hastily, afraid that he was sinning again by lying. He thought that he couldn't go five minutes without sinning in one way or another. He might not even be able to breath without sinning.
Marcy took a deep breath, calming herself and putting her hands on Pudge's shoulders, in spite of his resistance. "Pudge, look at me. Listen to me. If you had unprotected sex with Ronny--"
"MOM!" Pudge shouted, horrified.
"Listen to me! I'm your mother!" she reminded him, which seemed to shut him up for the moment. "If you had unprotected sex with Ronny, we need to get you to the hospital to get a shot."
"Why do you think I would do that? Don't you know I'm a Christian?!" he demanded.
"Even Christians make mistakes. You don't need to die from it."
"But the wages of sin is death! Who cares about the fornicators? They get what's coming to them!"
Marcy flinched as if he had physically struck her. Pudge was looking eerily like Ace in his "wise mode."
"How can you say that?!" she asked. "God is not willing that any should perish!"
"They get what's coming to them, though. That's just what happens."
"That does not mean that a mother should have to lose her children, because of their sins," she nearly choked. "Losing a child is worse than dying. Don't you dare put me through that."
"I didn't sin, Mom! What kind of person do you think I am?! I don't make THOSE kinds of mistakes!"
"I made those kinds of mistakes," she said quietly.
"What?" he asked, shocked.
"I wasn't a virgin when I married your father. I think my life turned out all right, in spite of that fact. I have you, don't I? And your father, for a while."
"But...but...that's impossible! You really...?"
She nodded. "I really. And I didn't die from it, and there's no reason you should, if you make mistakes like mine. Now...is there anything you want to tell me, Pudge?"
Pudge stared at her for a long time. "No. I mean...well, not like that. We didn't do anything. I mean, not anything like that. Not what you're thinking of."
"What happened, Pudge?" she softly prompted.
"Ronny's gay, too. Or at least...he's...something. We...we kind of...we kind of kissed."
To his surprise, his mother didn't overreact, she simply nodded. "All right. Come on," she sat down, patting the couch beside her. "Let's talk about this."
When Pudge returned home, his mother was making dinner. He slunk in the door, self-consciously.
"Hey, Pudge, where have you been?" his mother asked cheerfully from the kitchen. "Visiting one of your friends?"
"I...I guess you can say that..." Pudge replied quietly, feeling sick now that he was with his mom.
"Pudge?" his mother appeared from the kitchen, looking concerned. "Pudge, what's wrong?"
"I...I went to see Ronny tonight."
His mother's eyes were wide. "Oh?" she asked, a little too casually.
"Not like that!" Pudge said quickly. "It wasn't like that, not at all!"
"Okay. I know. What happened, Pudge? Please, you can tell me. You won't get in trouble!"
"Nothing happened, Mom! Not what you're thinking of!"
"Pudge, you can tell me anything..." she said gently.
"There's nothing to tell! Not what you think, anyway!" he added hastily, afraid that he was sinning again by lying. He thought that he couldn't go five minutes without sinning in one way or another. He might not even be able to breath without sinning.
Marcy took a deep breath, calming herself and putting her hands on Pudge's shoulders, in spite of his resistance. "Pudge, look at me. Listen to me. If you had unprotected sex with Ronny--"
"MOM!" Pudge shouted, horrified.
"Listen to me! I'm your mother!" she reminded him, which seemed to shut him up for the moment. "If you had unprotected sex with Ronny, we need to get you to the hospital to get a shot."
"Why do you think I would do that? Don't you know I'm a Christian?!" he demanded.
"Even Christians make mistakes. You don't need to die from it."
"But the wages of sin is death! Who cares about the fornicators? They get what's coming to them!"
Marcy flinched as if he had physically struck her. Pudge was looking eerily like Ace in his "wise mode."
"How can you say that?!" she asked. "God is not willing that any should perish!"
"They get what's coming to them, though. That's just what happens."
"That does not mean that a mother should have to lose her children, because of their sins," she nearly choked. "Losing a child is worse than dying. Don't you dare put me through that."
"I didn't sin, Mom! What kind of person do you think I am?! I don't make THOSE kinds of mistakes!"
"I made those kinds of mistakes," she said quietly.
"What?" he asked, shocked.
"I wasn't a virgin when I married your father. I think my life turned out all right, in spite of that fact. I have you, don't I? And your father, for a while."
"But...but...that's impossible! You really...?"
She nodded. "I really. And I didn't die from it, and there's no reason you should, if you make mistakes like mine. Now...is there anything you want to tell me, Pudge?"
Pudge stared at her for a long time. "No. I mean...well, not like that. We didn't do anything. I mean, not anything like that. Not what you're thinking of."
"What happened, Pudge?" she softly prompted.
"Ronny's gay, too. Or at least...he's...something. We...we kind of...we kind of kissed."
To his surprise, his mother didn't overreact, she simply nodded. "All right. Come on," she sat down, patting the couch beside her. "Let's talk about this."
Wednesday, March 16, 2016
Umpqua: The Place Was Haunted Long Before The Shooting
I went to Umpqua Community College at the time of the shooting, and I don't go there anymore. Right before the shooting on October 1st of last year, I got a part in the UCC production of Blithe Spirit by Noel Coward, a comedy about a bothersome ghost set to premiere around Halloween. I even got into the play by writing and performing my own monologue, in which I testified before Congress on the rights of "ethereal Americans," or ghosts. That one made the director, also my drama teacher, laugh many times.
On Monday of the first week into the term, the first rehearsal was cancelled and pushed back to that Friday, I believe. Then, the following Thursday, one of the play's production assistants went to school and killed a bunch of people.
I had a lot more on my mind then, but I also knew that the play would most assuredly be cancelled, since it was a comedy about ghosts.
A few weeks later, I was offered a part in another play, replacing Blithe Spirit, which was A Woman Of No Importance by Oscar Wilde. My maybe-homophobic friend Ruth had the line, "I was wrong. God's law is only love," which I thought was neat.
The play was to take place in Centerstage Theatre, which is the smaller of the two theaters on the UCC campus. It seats maybe two hundred people, and some nights during the performance it was nearly full.
There were other people using Centerstage one night when we had rehearsals, so we had to go next door to Jacoby Auditorium, which seats, I would estimate, about a thousand people. Everyone met in Centerstage's dressing rooms, then got ready to go over to Jacoby.
"I can't find my hairbrush," somebody said.
"Maybe a ghost took it," I suggested, thinking of all the legends of theater ghosts.
"No, Oscar's in Jacoby," my new best friend, whom I had met from the play, remarked. She was a pansexual Christian who called me "Sunshine" after a character from the show Queer as Folk, which it turned out we both adored.
"Oscar Wilde is in Jacoby?!" I asked excitedly, thinking of the man who wrote the play we were all in. I didn't know if I believed in ghosts, but I wanted to, especially this one, whom I hope was pleased with my Lady Hunstanton. I didn't know why he would be here, of all places, but maybe he haunted places where his plays were shown. Maybe if I could get him alone, he would tell me what it was like to be gay (or bisexual, since he did marry and have children) in the nineteenth century. Maybe he would tell me how he wished me to play Lady Hunstanton. Maybe he would tell me what the afterlife was like. Maybe...
"No, he's just called Oscar," she answered. "That's what they've always called him."
"Do you think he's real?" I asked.
"I've heard him. I've also seen the lights flicker."
"Wow! How long has he been there?"
"At least as long as I've been doing plays, so at least ten years."
"That's amazing!" I declared, so excited to go and hopefully see a ghost, even if it wasn't Oscar Wilde. Especially since I aspired to be one someday, in a hundred years or more.
I wanted to tell everyone the good news. I was so happy to meet someone who had had a ghost encounter, much less possibly have one of my own.
"There's a ghost in Jacoby!" I practically sang out, to all the cast members who would listen.
"You told her there's a ghost in Jacoby?" a man who was in the play asked my friend.
"There is. I've heard him," she said.
We went over there. One of the "gels" or colored lenses on the stage lights, flickered high above us in that huge, cavernous theater.
"Is that Oscar?" the skeptical man asked.
"It's probably just a breeze up there," my friend replied.
I was confused as to how even a space as big as Jacoby could have its own air currents. I hoped it was Oscar, or whoever the ghost was.
I did see a mouse. One of the other girls started screaming because she saw a mouse coming out from under a cabinet backstage, so I went over and left food out for it. It came out and grabbed it, and disappeared again.
Ruth was laughing because I was feeding it chunks of my apple, the other girl was screaming and cringing, running away, and the skeptical guy looked at me in horror and said, with a weird look on his face, "You are disgusting!"
"I'm not touching it," I protested. And if it was already there, then it was already there, and there was no point in making it starve. I hid my apple cores behind a trash can, too, so it and its friends could eat off of them. I hoped that an exterminator wouldn't find them in such a big building, or that it would at least be humanely relocated.
Later, Ruth would tell people that mouse story whenever she could. "She was feeding it!" she laughed, pointing at me in class.
So maybe ghosts can take the form of mice, when they want to. Who knows? I saw a video of Obama doing it, one time, so a ghost would be even more powerful. I hope I gained the ghost's trust by feeding it.
So "Oscar" has apparently been there for at least ten years, and his legend did not start with my friend. I did not hear anything of him being particularly sad or angry. He was just there, choosing Jacoby as his home, for whatever reason.
At least I know the people killed at UCC have a potential friend. I hope they're all at peace. I hope the mice are doing good too. At any rate, I'm glad to be out of the play, and out of that school.
I'm kind of disappointed that I didn't get to meet Oscar Wilde, though. If you're reading this, Mr. Wilde, you can come to my house and visit me there, if you like. I hope I did a good job playing the character you wrote.
On Monday of the first week into the term, the first rehearsal was cancelled and pushed back to that Friday, I believe. Then, the following Thursday, one of the play's production assistants went to school and killed a bunch of people.
I had a lot more on my mind then, but I also knew that the play would most assuredly be cancelled, since it was a comedy about ghosts.
A few weeks later, I was offered a part in another play, replacing Blithe Spirit, which was A Woman Of No Importance by Oscar Wilde. My maybe-homophobic friend Ruth had the line, "I was wrong. God's law is only love," which I thought was neat.
The play was to take place in Centerstage Theatre, which is the smaller of the two theaters on the UCC campus. It seats maybe two hundred people, and some nights during the performance it was nearly full.
There were other people using Centerstage one night when we had rehearsals, so we had to go next door to Jacoby Auditorium, which seats, I would estimate, about a thousand people. Everyone met in Centerstage's dressing rooms, then got ready to go over to Jacoby.
"I can't find my hairbrush," somebody said.
"Maybe a ghost took it," I suggested, thinking of all the legends of theater ghosts.
"No, Oscar's in Jacoby," my new best friend, whom I had met from the play, remarked. She was a pansexual Christian who called me "Sunshine" after a character from the show Queer as Folk, which it turned out we both adored.
"Oscar Wilde is in Jacoby?!" I asked excitedly, thinking of the man who wrote the play we were all in. I didn't know if I believed in ghosts, but I wanted to, especially this one, whom I hope was pleased with my Lady Hunstanton. I didn't know why he would be here, of all places, but maybe he haunted places where his plays were shown. Maybe if I could get him alone, he would tell me what it was like to be gay (or bisexual, since he did marry and have children) in the nineteenth century. Maybe he would tell me how he wished me to play Lady Hunstanton. Maybe he would tell me what the afterlife was like. Maybe...
"No, he's just called Oscar," she answered. "That's what they've always called him."
"Do you think he's real?" I asked.
"I've heard him. I've also seen the lights flicker."
"Wow! How long has he been there?"
"At least as long as I've been doing plays, so at least ten years."
"That's amazing!" I declared, so excited to go and hopefully see a ghost, even if it wasn't Oscar Wilde. Especially since I aspired to be one someday, in a hundred years or more.
I wanted to tell everyone the good news. I was so happy to meet someone who had had a ghost encounter, much less possibly have one of my own.
"There's a ghost in Jacoby!" I practically sang out, to all the cast members who would listen.
"You told her there's a ghost in Jacoby?" a man who was in the play asked my friend.
"There is. I've heard him," she said.
We went over there. One of the "gels" or colored lenses on the stage lights, flickered high above us in that huge, cavernous theater.
"Is that Oscar?" the skeptical man asked.
"It's probably just a breeze up there," my friend replied.
I was confused as to how even a space as big as Jacoby could have its own air currents. I hoped it was Oscar, or whoever the ghost was.
I did see a mouse. One of the other girls started screaming because she saw a mouse coming out from under a cabinet backstage, so I went over and left food out for it. It came out and grabbed it, and disappeared again.
Ruth was laughing because I was feeding it chunks of my apple, the other girl was screaming and cringing, running away, and the skeptical guy looked at me in horror and said, with a weird look on his face, "You are disgusting!"
"I'm not touching it," I protested. And if it was already there, then it was already there, and there was no point in making it starve. I hid my apple cores behind a trash can, too, so it and its friends could eat off of them. I hoped that an exterminator wouldn't find them in such a big building, or that it would at least be humanely relocated.
Later, Ruth would tell people that mouse story whenever she could. "She was feeding it!" she laughed, pointing at me in class.
So maybe ghosts can take the form of mice, when they want to. Who knows? I saw a video of Obama doing it, one time, so a ghost would be even more powerful. I hope I gained the ghost's trust by feeding it.
So "Oscar" has apparently been there for at least ten years, and his legend did not start with my friend. I did not hear anything of him being particularly sad or angry. He was just there, choosing Jacoby as his home, for whatever reason.
At least I know the people killed at UCC have a potential friend. I hope they're all at peace. I hope the mice are doing good too. At any rate, I'm glad to be out of the play, and out of that school.
I'm kind of disappointed that I didn't get to meet Oscar Wilde, though. If you're reading this, Mr. Wilde, you can come to my house and visit me there, if you like. I hope I did a good job playing the character you wrote.
Monday, March 14, 2016
Pudge's Struggle: Pudge And Ronny, Chapter 30
This is my Accelerated Christian Education fan fiction, the first ever ACE fan fiction, that I know of. To see more of our favorite gay couple, see the "ACE Gay Fanfiction" page at the top of this blog, or my Deviant Art page here.
Pudge took his time going home, for he had a lot on his mind. What had happened back there? He had not planned for that to happen! Yet a part of him wondered if he really had, all along. Part of him was very, very pleased he had kissed Ronny--that Ronny had wanted to be kissed!--but that was probably only his sinful flesh. (Or had Ronny kissed him? He wasn't exactly sure what happened. Ronny had seemed to initiate the kiss, but Pudge was the one to finally make it happen.)
But if he had kissed a girl, then he would have compromised his "emotional purity," so why would it be okay if he kissed a boy? And yet he couldn't get any kind of "accountability partner," to confide in, or he would be kicked out of the church!
Was he forced to slide slowly into sin, just because of the shame culture in his church? They certainly didn't mean to create such an environment (or at least, he hoped they didn't), but it was there, nonetheless. He was beginning to think that one didn't have to hate somebody, in order to hurt them. How many times had he accidentally hurt the people he loved, after all? He was just lucky that his mother wasn't hurt by his being gay. He thought his grandparents might be, though...
He feared the choices he would make, if he were to start backsliding. He didn't want to become promiscuous and irresponsible, get AIDS, commit suicide! Maybe if he didn't want to do those things, he would not do them anyway. But maybe he would become a different person, and Satan would take over his life.
Was he backsliding already? He always feared that he was, and was often very certain that he was. Even before he fully realized that he was gay, he had the constant impression of God being disappointed in him.
But what could he do? He forced himself to read the bible and pray, even when it brought back all of the feelings of inadequacy and being unlovable (loved, perhaps, by God, but objectively unlovable, nonetheless--created in the image of God, but also a filthy, terrible sinner). He was so vigilant against blasphemy and lust in his own thoughts, that he found it very difficult to relax and go to sleep every night. He had never said no to anyone asking for his help, even if he had needed to study that night or if he was giving away a pencil that he himself needed for an assignment. He had never talked back to his mother, not even to ask if he could do his chores later, as he was tired or had homework. It was always "Jesus, Others, You," but very little actual "J.O.Y." He hoped he was not blaspheming by just thinking these things.
He had fought his own feelings for so long, begging God to change him--and it wasn't just his homosexuality that he had begged God to change. Every little thing from getting angry to questioning the authority of Pastor Alltruth in his head, he agonized over. It all seemed so easy to every other Christian. Why couldn't God just make him good enough? He knew he couldn't be perfect, but why couldn't God make him good enough to please Him, at least most of the time?
He often wondered if he was really saved. But he had rededicated his life to Christ so many times that he knew exactly what would happen: He would get excited, promising God that THIS time was going to be different, THIS time he was going to make it work, THIS time he was going to be on fire for God!
But then, slowly, he would find himself "failing" again--and again, and again, and again. He knew he was sincere, or that he at least really, really, really tried to be sincere!
What was wrong with him, that he never felt the peace and joy that he was supposed to feel as a Christian? He knew that joy might be different from happiness, according to his church, but wasn't joy supposed to at least not include unhappiness?
No! No, he wasn't unhappy! Not with God! He was a Christian, and Christians didn't complain about God, or their relationship with God! Christians loved God and didn't criticize Him, or do anything that might be criticizing. He said a quick prayer of forgiveness, hoping that he had not sinned by feeling this way.
Pudge took his time going home, for he had a lot on his mind. What had happened back there? He had not planned for that to happen! Yet a part of him wondered if he really had, all along. Part of him was very, very pleased he had kissed Ronny--that Ronny had wanted to be kissed!--but that was probably only his sinful flesh. (Or had Ronny kissed him? He wasn't exactly sure what happened. Ronny had seemed to initiate the kiss, but Pudge was the one to finally make it happen.)
But if he had kissed a girl, then he would have compromised his "emotional purity," so why would it be okay if he kissed a boy? And yet he couldn't get any kind of "accountability partner," to confide in, or he would be kicked out of the church!
Was he forced to slide slowly into sin, just because of the shame culture in his church? They certainly didn't mean to create such an environment (or at least, he hoped they didn't), but it was there, nonetheless. He was beginning to think that one didn't have to hate somebody, in order to hurt them. How many times had he accidentally hurt the people he loved, after all? He was just lucky that his mother wasn't hurt by his being gay. He thought his grandparents might be, though...
He feared the choices he would make, if he were to start backsliding. He didn't want to become promiscuous and irresponsible, get AIDS, commit suicide! Maybe if he didn't want to do those things, he would not do them anyway. But maybe he would become a different person, and Satan would take over his life.
Was he backsliding already? He always feared that he was, and was often very certain that he was. Even before he fully realized that he was gay, he had the constant impression of God being disappointed in him.
But what could he do? He forced himself to read the bible and pray, even when it brought back all of the feelings of inadequacy and being unlovable (loved, perhaps, by God, but objectively unlovable, nonetheless--created in the image of God, but also a filthy, terrible sinner). He was so vigilant against blasphemy and lust in his own thoughts, that he found it very difficult to relax and go to sleep every night. He had never said no to anyone asking for his help, even if he had needed to study that night or if he was giving away a pencil that he himself needed for an assignment. He had never talked back to his mother, not even to ask if he could do his chores later, as he was tired or had homework. It was always "Jesus, Others, You," but very little actual "J.O.Y." He hoped he was not blaspheming by just thinking these things.
He had fought his own feelings for so long, begging God to change him--and it wasn't just his homosexuality that he had begged God to change. Every little thing from getting angry to questioning the authority of Pastor Alltruth in his head, he agonized over. It all seemed so easy to every other Christian. Why couldn't God just make him good enough? He knew he couldn't be perfect, but why couldn't God make him good enough to please Him, at least most of the time?
He often wondered if he was really saved. But he had rededicated his life to Christ so many times that he knew exactly what would happen: He would get excited, promising God that THIS time was going to be different, THIS time he was going to make it work, THIS time he was going to be on fire for God!
But then, slowly, he would find himself "failing" again--and again, and again, and again. He knew he was sincere, or that he at least really, really, really tried to be sincere!
What was wrong with him, that he never felt the peace and joy that he was supposed to feel as a Christian? He knew that joy might be different from happiness, according to his church, but wasn't joy supposed to at least not include unhappiness?
No! No, he wasn't unhappy! Not with God! He was a Christian, and Christians didn't complain about God, or their relationship with God! Christians loved God and didn't criticize Him, or do anything that might be criticizing. He said a quick prayer of forgiveness, hoping that he had not sinned by feeling this way.
Sunday, March 13, 2016
Christians (And Atheists) Don't Trust Themselves
I've heard some atheists say before that, if they had a spiritual experience, they would assume that they were hallucinating or that they had lost their minds. This strikes me as strange, since I spent so much of my life suppressing my own instincts and gut feelings, because I was afraid of going to hell and being a bad person/Christian. When people get free of that, wouldn't they want to finally trust themselves?
Other people say that it's not logical to go with your own experiences, over what other people tell you is logical or correct. Just like fundamentalist Christians tell you that you can't trust your own instincts about right and wrong, over what the bible apparently says.
I have seen some people denigrate the spiritual experience of a nice gay universalist Christian friend of mine, who said that he had a vision of Christ on the cross and that that's when he became truly born again after being a "wet Baptist" all his life. I came to his defense, even though I considered myself an atheist at the time, because what else is he supposed to go on, than his own experiences? He says that everyone will eventually have some kind of experience like that, and be as certain as him--and so far, I am not as certain as him and have not had any spiritual experiences. He may very well be wrong--but that doesn't mean that he's wrong to trust his own instincts and experiences.
Why would atheists not trust their own instincts? After all, I became an atheist to get away from this crap. I'm not saying it's wrong to think that a "spiritual experience" was not in fact spiritual, but automatically assuming, in spite of your own instincts, is.
I was so miserable, for so many years, because I thought I was bound to a "literal" interpretation of the bible, and that if I wanted to see women being pastors or gays getting married, that I would literally burn for it. I went against my own instincts about rightness and justice, and I hated it! I was betraying my own conscience, because of my fears.
I later found out that biblical scholars have a few theories for how God inspired the bible, and that some allowed for imperfect human or cultural influence. That was such a relief, when I read that, in a Christian school textbook of all places! I was free! I couldn't believe that I didn't have to hurt others because of whom they loved, or limit my own potential just because of my vagina. It was almost too good to be true, but I had been a prisoner to fundamentalism so long, that I jumped at the chance to be free from it. I could let God, or my God-given conscience, guide me directly, even about the bible. I can't stress enough how freeing it was to learn that I didn't have to hurt other people, or myself, for God.
What the atheists do, does not come with the terrifying threat of hell, but it is oppressive to me, nonetheless. Why rely on what other people tell you is most likely to be true? I never was much for anti-apologetics arguments, because I could just look at my own life, and know that I had not had the experience of feeling close to God, as I had been promised I would have, if I was born again (which is why I "got saved" so many times, until I sensed a pattern and got tired of the pattern).
I don't consider myself an atheist anymore, at least not very much of one. But atheists other nonbelievers have the potential for freedom, here, and throw it all away. They can be free to trust their own instincts, but some choose to trust what other people tell them is most logical or likely. Why would anyone do that to themselves?
I am so very relieved to get away from fundamentalism and evangelicalism. And sometimes I read articles by LGBT-affirming and universalist Christians, and I think that maybe I can have what I've always wanted. That is the sense of being close to God, and having a relationship with God that brings me joy, and not grief and anxiety about not being a good enough or "real" Christian.
But I don't try very hard to get close to God anymore, if there is someone there. I got free from trying to pray and read the bible even though I was absolutely sick of both activities--and other ways in which I shoved down my true feelings and gave in to the fear which was instilled in me by others all of my life. I don't try to believe or have faith at all, either, because that would not really be believing.
I got free from trying to placate others' versions of God, and I don't want to be a prisoner to other people's logic as well. If I ever do have an apparently spiritual experience, I think I will have a healthy skepticism--unless I believe that it actually is from God, or is likely to be.
I also tell people, sometimes, if they give me crap about not being a "real" Christian, that I don't need their permission to be a Christian, or have a relationship with God. If God has a problem with me, then that supposedly all-powerful being can think of a way to tell me (though if God is in fact unjust to women or LGBT people, for example, then that is a different matter entirely). Until then, I won't allow anyone to tell me anything about God. If I am made by God, then I would say that I am more than worthy of my own trust, because God doesn't make junk!
I just now gained the freedom to trust myself, relatively recently in my life. So I'm not giving that up for anything, whether for "God" or for "logic". I'm going to trust myself, no matter where that leads me. After all, I'm the only one that I know is truly on my side. Those other people are strangers, and are dubious at best. If I don't trust them to visit me at my house, after all, why would I trust them with something as important as God and God's nature?
Other people say that it's not logical to go with your own experiences, over what other people tell you is logical or correct. Just like fundamentalist Christians tell you that you can't trust your own instincts about right and wrong, over what the bible apparently says.
I have seen some people denigrate the spiritual experience of a nice gay universalist Christian friend of mine, who said that he had a vision of Christ on the cross and that that's when he became truly born again after being a "wet Baptist" all his life. I came to his defense, even though I considered myself an atheist at the time, because what else is he supposed to go on, than his own experiences? He says that everyone will eventually have some kind of experience like that, and be as certain as him--and so far, I am not as certain as him and have not had any spiritual experiences. He may very well be wrong--but that doesn't mean that he's wrong to trust his own instincts and experiences.
Why would atheists not trust their own instincts? After all, I became an atheist to get away from this crap. I'm not saying it's wrong to think that a "spiritual experience" was not in fact spiritual, but automatically assuming, in spite of your own instincts, is.
I was so miserable, for so many years, because I thought I was bound to a "literal" interpretation of the bible, and that if I wanted to see women being pastors or gays getting married, that I would literally burn for it. I went against my own instincts about rightness and justice, and I hated it! I was betraying my own conscience, because of my fears.
I later found out that biblical scholars have a few theories for how God inspired the bible, and that some allowed for imperfect human or cultural influence. That was such a relief, when I read that, in a Christian school textbook of all places! I was free! I couldn't believe that I didn't have to hurt others because of whom they loved, or limit my own potential just because of my vagina. It was almost too good to be true, but I had been a prisoner to fundamentalism so long, that I jumped at the chance to be free from it. I could let God, or my God-given conscience, guide me directly, even about the bible. I can't stress enough how freeing it was to learn that I didn't have to hurt other people, or myself, for God.
What the atheists do, does not come with the terrifying threat of hell, but it is oppressive to me, nonetheless. Why rely on what other people tell you is most likely to be true? I never was much for anti-apologetics arguments, because I could just look at my own life, and know that I had not had the experience of feeling close to God, as I had been promised I would have, if I was born again (which is why I "got saved" so many times, until I sensed a pattern and got tired of the pattern).
I don't consider myself an atheist anymore, at least not very much of one. But atheists other nonbelievers have the potential for freedom, here, and throw it all away. They can be free to trust their own instincts, but some choose to trust what other people tell them is most logical or likely. Why would anyone do that to themselves?
I am so very relieved to get away from fundamentalism and evangelicalism. And sometimes I read articles by LGBT-affirming and universalist Christians, and I think that maybe I can have what I've always wanted. That is the sense of being close to God, and having a relationship with God that brings me joy, and not grief and anxiety about not being a good enough or "real" Christian.
But I don't try very hard to get close to God anymore, if there is someone there. I got free from trying to pray and read the bible even though I was absolutely sick of both activities--and other ways in which I shoved down my true feelings and gave in to the fear which was instilled in me by others all of my life. I don't try to believe or have faith at all, either, because that would not really be believing.
I got free from trying to placate others' versions of God, and I don't want to be a prisoner to other people's logic as well. If I ever do have an apparently spiritual experience, I think I will have a healthy skepticism--unless I believe that it actually is from God, or is likely to be.
I also tell people, sometimes, if they give me crap about not being a "real" Christian, that I don't need their permission to be a Christian, or have a relationship with God. If God has a problem with me, then that supposedly all-powerful being can think of a way to tell me (though if God is in fact unjust to women or LGBT people, for example, then that is a different matter entirely). Until then, I won't allow anyone to tell me anything about God. If I am made by God, then I would say that I am more than worthy of my own trust, because God doesn't make junk!
I just now gained the freedom to trust myself, relatively recently in my life. So I'm not giving that up for anything, whether for "God" or for "logic". I'm going to trust myself, no matter where that leads me. After all, I'm the only one that I know is truly on my side. Those other people are strangers, and are dubious at best. If I don't trust them to visit me at my house, after all, why would I trust them with something as important as God and God's nature?
Tuesday, March 8, 2016
First Kiss: Pudge And Ronny, Chapter 29
Neither of them seemed to know what to say after that. Pudge thought
about the note, about how wrong he had been about Ronny, and apparently
about Suzie too. The note reminded him of something else.
"Ronny, did you really keep the bible I gave you, all those years ago?" he asked.
Ronny's olive skin started turning a darker shade of red. "Well, um, yeah. I mean, my friend gave that to me. So...yeah, I kept it."
"But you didn't keep anything from any of our other friends, did you?"
Ronny thought of the gospel tract from Ace that he had thrown in the garbage last week. "Hell, no," he rolled his eyes, before realizing that he had just cussed in front of Pudge. "I mean, you're much more bearable than the others. You always have been."
"Oh."
Pudge sounded disappointed. Ronny had to be imagining it, though. He spied the paper that Pudge had brought with him, fallen on the floor and forgotten. "So you...you saved my drawing?" he asked tentatively. "Or was that just to show me...?"
"Yeah," Pudge replied, a little too casually. "Yeah, I saved it."
They both looked up from it at the same time, and caught each other's eyes. They stared into each other's gazes for a long moment, wondering if they really saw what they thought they saw.
After a long while of this, Ronny tentatively leaned forward, just a few inches. Pudge could lean away, and pretend it was nothing on Ronny's part, or...
Pudge hesitated, then also leaned forward. They were sitting about a foot away from each other, close but still conceivable for mere friends to sit at that distance.
His heart racing, Ronny leaned even closer, nearly holding his breath. Their faces were almost touching now.
They stayed that way for a brief moment. Then, realizing it was up to him to make this happen, Pudge closed his eyes and met Ronny's lips with his own.
Pudge didn't know what to expect from his first kiss, but he had not been expecting this. He knew seeing fireworks only happened in cartoons, but he couldn't really feel what was going on in his face, over the pounding of his heart and the shaking of his hands.
Ronny had never expected to kiss a guy, much less tonight, and kissing Pudge! It felt weird, to be kissing a man, and yet his heart was pounding and he felt the exact same way, in his body, that he had felt when kissing girls. This was perhaps more intense though, because of who this guy was.
It lasted a few long seconds, then they broke apart, Pudge moving away from Ronny a few inches on the couch. Both of them were panting, shocked at what had happened, and yet...
They stared at each other, open-mouthed...then the slightest hint of a surprised smile played across Ronny's lips. Pudge started to return it, then was delighted when Ronny's smile deepened. Ronny was looking at Pudge with pure joy and delight, and Pudge couldn't help but return it. They started to laugh softly.
Ronny shook his head. "I never thought..."
"Me either!" Pudge exclaimed.
"Do you, uh, do you want to...come over...again...s-sometime?" Ronny asked, looking at the ground, unusually bashful for him.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that," Pudge answered, moving his hand closer to Ronny's.
Ronny moved his own hand until they were just touching, side by side. Pudge moved a few fingers on top of Ronny's hand. Ronny turned his hand over, palm up, and soon their fingers were intertwined.
They stayed like that a long while, not looking at each other, just enjoying the feel of their hands holding each other. Ronny closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Pudge's hand on top of his own, even enjoying the pounding of his own heart. Both their hands were sweaty, but he didn't care, and Pudge didn't seem to, either.
Pudge watched Ronny's face as he held his hand. He had his eyes closed, lips slightly parted. He looked completely at peace and content. Pudge squeezed his hand a little harder, for a brief moment. Ronny squeezed back.
As if sensing Pudge watching him, he opened his eyes, looking over at Pudge. Pudge was smiling at him, genuinely happy.
Both their eyes wandered down to their hands, resting so comfortably against one another, Pudge's lying on top of Ronny's.
Ronny began to imagine their whole bodies tangled up in such a way, not just their fingers. As if thinking the same thing, Pudge removed his hand.
"I...I should go," he said quietly. "My mom would be home by now..."
"Are you going to come back?" Ronny asked, a little worried.
Pudge met his eyes. "Yes, Ronny. I'll come back. I promise."
"Can you drive, after...?" Ronny trailed off, thinking of how he felt right now.
"Yes, I think so."
Pudge got up off the couch, with an effort, bending to pick up Ronny's drawing. "Can I keep this?" he asked.
"Yeah. Yeah, sure," Ronny answered, rising himself. He did not stand up straight, because apparently, his body was telling him he wasn't straight.
Reluctantly, Ronny walked him to the door, where they awkwardly stood, not knowing what to do or how to end this--this evening. This date? Ronny didn't know what this was, but was grateful for it, nonetheless.
Ronny tried to shake hands, then they changed their minds and settled for a hug, Ronny pecking Pudge on the lips.
"Um...bye Ronny."
"Bye, Pudge."
Pudge opened the door and left. Ronny stood there, staring after him, for a moment, then reluctantly went back inside. He hoped Pudge really would come back, or at least call him. Pudge seemed more okay with himself, somehow, now, but Ronny didn't know how Pudge really felt about it, now that something had happened between them. He was as sad to see religion have him, as he would be if it was another guy.
"Jesus better not steal my boyfriend!" he muttered angrily, then broke into a surprised but delighted little laugh at the word "boyfriend." Even he couldn't stay angry, thinking of Pudge and all of the scary but thrilling possibilities.
"Ronny, did you really keep the bible I gave you, all those years ago?" he asked.
Ronny's olive skin started turning a darker shade of red. "Well, um, yeah. I mean, my friend gave that to me. So...yeah, I kept it."
"But you didn't keep anything from any of our other friends, did you?"
Ronny thought of the gospel tract from Ace that he had thrown in the garbage last week. "Hell, no," he rolled his eyes, before realizing that he had just cussed in front of Pudge. "I mean, you're much more bearable than the others. You always have been."
"Oh."
Pudge sounded disappointed. Ronny had to be imagining it, though. He spied the paper that Pudge had brought with him, fallen on the floor and forgotten. "So you...you saved my drawing?" he asked tentatively. "Or was that just to show me...?"
"Yeah," Pudge replied, a little too casually. "Yeah, I saved it."
They both looked up from it at the same time, and caught each other's eyes. They stared into each other's gazes for a long moment, wondering if they really saw what they thought they saw.
After a long while of this, Ronny tentatively leaned forward, just a few inches. Pudge could lean away, and pretend it was nothing on Ronny's part, or...
Pudge hesitated, then also leaned forward. They were sitting about a foot away from each other, close but still conceivable for mere friends to sit at that distance.
His heart racing, Ronny leaned even closer, nearly holding his breath. Their faces were almost touching now.
They stayed that way for a brief moment. Then, realizing it was up to him to make this happen, Pudge closed his eyes and met Ronny's lips with his own.
Pudge didn't know what to expect from his first kiss, but he had not been expecting this. He knew seeing fireworks only happened in cartoons, but he couldn't really feel what was going on in his face, over the pounding of his heart and the shaking of his hands.
Ronny had never expected to kiss a guy, much less tonight, and kissing Pudge! It felt weird, to be kissing a man, and yet his heart was pounding and he felt the exact same way, in his body, that he had felt when kissing girls. This was perhaps more intense though, because of who this guy was.
It lasted a few long seconds, then they broke apart, Pudge moving away from Ronny a few inches on the couch. Both of them were panting, shocked at what had happened, and yet...
They stared at each other, open-mouthed...then the slightest hint of a surprised smile played across Ronny's lips. Pudge started to return it, then was delighted when Ronny's smile deepened. Ronny was looking at Pudge with pure joy and delight, and Pudge couldn't help but return it. They started to laugh softly.
Ronny shook his head. "I never thought..."
"Me either!" Pudge exclaimed.
"Do you, uh, do you want to...come over...again...s-sometime?" Ronny asked, looking at the ground, unusually bashful for him.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that," Pudge answered, moving his hand closer to Ronny's.
Ronny moved his own hand until they were just touching, side by side. Pudge moved a few fingers on top of Ronny's hand. Ronny turned his hand over, palm up, and soon their fingers were intertwined.
They stayed like that a long while, not looking at each other, just enjoying the feel of their hands holding each other. Ronny closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Pudge's hand on top of his own, even enjoying the pounding of his own heart. Both their hands were sweaty, but he didn't care, and Pudge didn't seem to, either.
Pudge watched Ronny's face as he held his hand. He had his eyes closed, lips slightly parted. He looked completely at peace and content. Pudge squeezed his hand a little harder, for a brief moment. Ronny squeezed back.
As if sensing Pudge watching him, he opened his eyes, looking over at Pudge. Pudge was smiling at him, genuinely happy.
Both their eyes wandered down to their hands, resting so comfortably against one another, Pudge's lying on top of Ronny's.
Ronny began to imagine their whole bodies tangled up in such a way, not just their fingers. As if thinking the same thing, Pudge removed his hand.
"I...I should go," he said quietly. "My mom would be home by now..."
"Are you going to come back?" Ronny asked, a little worried.
Pudge met his eyes. "Yes, Ronny. I'll come back. I promise."
"Can you drive, after...?" Ronny trailed off, thinking of how he felt right now.
"Yes, I think so."
Pudge got up off the couch, with an effort, bending to pick up Ronny's drawing. "Can I keep this?" he asked.
"Yeah. Yeah, sure," Ronny answered, rising himself. He did not stand up straight, because apparently, his body was telling him he wasn't straight.
Reluctantly, Ronny walked him to the door, where they awkwardly stood, not knowing what to do or how to end this--this evening. This date? Ronny didn't know what this was, but was grateful for it, nonetheless.
Ronny tried to shake hands, then they changed their minds and settled for a hug, Ronny pecking Pudge on the lips.
"Um...bye Ronny."
"Bye, Pudge."
Pudge opened the door and left. Ronny stood there, staring after him, for a moment, then reluctantly went back inside. He hoped Pudge really would come back, or at least call him. Pudge seemed more okay with himself, somehow, now, but Ronny didn't know how Pudge really felt about it, now that something had happened between them. He was as sad to see religion have him, as he would be if it was another guy.
"Jesus better not steal my boyfriend!" he muttered angrily, then broke into a surprised but delighted little laugh at the word "boyfriend." Even he couldn't stay angry, thinking of Pudge and all of the scary but thrilling possibilities.
Totally Homo Pudge And Ronny: Chapter 28
Ronny tore his eyes away from Pudge's gaze, shaking his head, trying
to shake the question off. But a couple of tears were flowing down his
face. His throat was closed up. He wanted to deny it, but he couldn't
speak. He couldn't even look at Pudge.
What was wrong with him? Pudge was gay too! He knew he shouldn't care, but this was a huge issue for him. He had never thought of himself as gay, or wanted to be. He couldn't be gay; his life would be so much harder. How would he even come out, much less deal with discrimination or violence?
"It's okay, Ronny," Pudge said, touching Ronny's hand. "It's okay."
"I...can't...I don't...I just don't know," Ronny croaked, wiping away more tears.
"It's okay. Come on," Pudge got up, grabbing Ronny's hand and pulling him to his feet. Pudge grabbing his hand felt good--too good, almost, for comfort. Pudge hugged him, rocking side to side slightly. Ronny put his forehead on Pudge's shoulder, the tears still coming down. They stayed like that for a long time, Ronny sobbing and unable to speak, Pudge intermittently murmuring soothing words of encouragement. "It's okay. It's okay."
After about a minute of quiet sobbing, Ronny started to slowly feel a little bit better. He lifted his head, looking at Pudge. "I...I think I'm...I think I might be...I think I'm...I'm...gay," he said finally, the last word sounding very strange to him. He didn't "feel" gay--but what else do you call it? And what was it supposed to feel like? "I'm gay," he added tentatively.
Pudge smiled, crying himself now. "Okay," he nodded. "That's okay. I'm really proud of you, Ronny." His smile deepened, his eyes sparkling with what looked like happiness, and...love? Was Ronny imagining things?
Ronny smiled too, shrugging sheepishly. Pudge still had his hands on his arms--he was still in Pudge's arms, he thought almost guiltily. "I don't really understand it," he explained. "But..." Ronny frowned, starting to feel emotional again. "I guess...I guess I am, apparently."
"Were you watching..." Pudge trailed off, looking at Ronny quizzically.
Ronny nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly. "First time in my life, I...I had to know, for sure." He moved away, sitting back down on the end of the couch.
Pudge sat down about a foot away from him now, facing him. "When did you start to know? Or suspect?"
"Well...I guess it was when you told me you were gay. I thought that I might be, too. Especially because, well, you just seem like a normal guy. Not what I expected, you know?"
Pudge nodded. "I was...I was kind of afraid, when I realized I was, that...that I'd become one of those guys, you know?"
Ronny shrugged. "I wouldn't care, if you were one of those guys." To Ronny's surprise, he meant it. "It might be a little weird, but...it wouldn't really bother me, I guess, in the long run."
"I don't know. I guess in my church, they always taught that men should be men, and women should be women, you know? Or like, everyone should be traditional, I mean. There's different rules and stuff. That's why the stereotypes bothered me, I think. But why are you bothered?" Pudge asked suddenly. "You're not a believer, you shouldn't have a problem with your being gay."
Ronny shook his head. "You don't know my dad. My mom's mellowed, so she'd probably just cry, but if he found out--well, let's just say, I'm glad I'm bigger now."
"What do you mean, bigger now?" Pudge asked softly. "Did he abuse you?"
"Not physically," Ronny said evasively. "Well, almost, one time. It was...it was because of you," he said hesitantly.
"Me?" Pudge exclaimed. "What did I do?"
"Um..." Ronny suddenly seemed to realize that he had said too much. "You didn't do anything," he said quickly, avoiding Pudge's eyes.
"How could he have known, when I didn't even know?" Pudge asked. "Was it because I was a Christian?"
"That was part of it, I guess, but not all of it. Not the main reason."
"What was that about, Ronny? You can tell me. I won't repeat it to anyone."
Ronny looked embarrassed. But what else could he tell Pudge? His eyes were fixed on a spot in the floor as he began. "Remember that time when Ace and the others went away to bible camp, and you and me spent all summer together, pretty much?"
"Yeah," Pudge nodded, smiling warmly. "That was really fun. We were twelve or so, I think?"
Ronny nodded. "I think so. Well, I really liked hanging out with you. You were, like...like my best friend, at least at the time. I don't know what I was thinking, but," Ronny took a deep breath. "I wrote you that note. The one you mentioned before, that you thought was from a girl. I never said anything, because my dad found it, and totally flipped out about it. I didn't mean it that way! At least, I don't think I did!"
"You wrote that note?!" Pudge repeated, in shock. "I thought it was from Suzie!"
Ronny flinched at the mention of the name.
"I'm sorry," Pudge said quickly. "I didn't mean to bring her up."
Ronny shook his head. "I don't get it," he remarked. "I still like girls, too, apparently, so how can I like dudes, now?"
"You're bisexual?" Pudge asked in surprise. "I didn't think that was a real thing!"
Ronny stared at Pudge, cocking his head to the side. "I guess maybe I am. Don't tell anyone," he added.
"Of course not. You haven't told anyone about me, have you?"
"No. Never. I know it could be bad for you. I wouldn't do that to you, Pudge," he said simply.
"Thanks," Pudge answered.
What was wrong with him? Pudge was gay too! He knew he shouldn't care, but this was a huge issue for him. He had never thought of himself as gay, or wanted to be. He couldn't be gay; his life would be so much harder. How would he even come out, much less deal with discrimination or violence?
"It's okay, Ronny," Pudge said, touching Ronny's hand. "It's okay."
"I...can't...I don't...I just don't know," Ronny croaked, wiping away more tears.
"It's okay. Come on," Pudge got up, grabbing Ronny's hand and pulling him to his feet. Pudge grabbing his hand felt good--too good, almost, for comfort. Pudge hugged him, rocking side to side slightly. Ronny put his forehead on Pudge's shoulder, the tears still coming down. They stayed like that for a long time, Ronny sobbing and unable to speak, Pudge intermittently murmuring soothing words of encouragement. "It's okay. It's okay."
After about a minute of quiet sobbing, Ronny started to slowly feel a little bit better. He lifted his head, looking at Pudge. "I...I think I'm...I think I might be...I think I'm...I'm...gay," he said finally, the last word sounding very strange to him. He didn't "feel" gay--but what else do you call it? And what was it supposed to feel like? "I'm gay," he added tentatively.
Pudge smiled, crying himself now. "Okay," he nodded. "That's okay. I'm really proud of you, Ronny." His smile deepened, his eyes sparkling with what looked like happiness, and...love? Was Ronny imagining things?
Ronny smiled too, shrugging sheepishly. Pudge still had his hands on his arms--he was still in Pudge's arms, he thought almost guiltily. "I don't really understand it," he explained. "But..." Ronny frowned, starting to feel emotional again. "I guess...I guess I am, apparently."
"Were you watching..." Pudge trailed off, looking at Ronny quizzically.
Ronny nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly. "First time in my life, I...I had to know, for sure." He moved away, sitting back down on the end of the couch.
Pudge sat down about a foot away from him now, facing him. "When did you start to know? Or suspect?"
"Well...I guess it was when you told me you were gay. I thought that I might be, too. Especially because, well, you just seem like a normal guy. Not what I expected, you know?"
Pudge nodded. "I was...I was kind of afraid, when I realized I was, that...that I'd become one of those guys, you know?"
Ronny shrugged. "I wouldn't care, if you were one of those guys." To Ronny's surprise, he meant it. "It might be a little weird, but...it wouldn't really bother me, I guess, in the long run."
"I don't know. I guess in my church, they always taught that men should be men, and women should be women, you know? Or like, everyone should be traditional, I mean. There's different rules and stuff. That's why the stereotypes bothered me, I think. But why are you bothered?" Pudge asked suddenly. "You're not a believer, you shouldn't have a problem with your being gay."
Ronny shook his head. "You don't know my dad. My mom's mellowed, so she'd probably just cry, but if he found out--well, let's just say, I'm glad I'm bigger now."
"What do you mean, bigger now?" Pudge asked softly. "Did he abuse you?"
"Not physically," Ronny said evasively. "Well, almost, one time. It was...it was because of you," he said hesitantly.
"Me?" Pudge exclaimed. "What did I do?"
"Um..." Ronny suddenly seemed to realize that he had said too much. "You didn't do anything," he said quickly, avoiding Pudge's eyes.
"How could he have known, when I didn't even know?" Pudge asked. "Was it because I was a Christian?"
"That was part of it, I guess, but not all of it. Not the main reason."
"What was that about, Ronny? You can tell me. I won't repeat it to anyone."
Ronny looked embarrassed. But what else could he tell Pudge? His eyes were fixed on a spot in the floor as he began. "Remember that time when Ace and the others went away to bible camp, and you and me spent all summer together, pretty much?"
"Yeah," Pudge nodded, smiling warmly. "That was really fun. We were twelve or so, I think?"
Ronny nodded. "I think so. Well, I really liked hanging out with you. You were, like...like my best friend, at least at the time. I don't know what I was thinking, but," Ronny took a deep breath. "I wrote you that note. The one you mentioned before, that you thought was from a girl. I never said anything, because my dad found it, and totally flipped out about it. I didn't mean it that way! At least, I don't think I did!"
"You wrote that note?!" Pudge repeated, in shock. "I thought it was from Suzie!"
Ronny flinched at the mention of the name.
"I'm sorry," Pudge said quickly. "I didn't mean to bring her up."
Ronny shook his head. "I don't get it," he remarked. "I still like girls, too, apparently, so how can I like dudes, now?"
"You're bisexual?" Pudge asked in surprise. "I didn't think that was a real thing!"
Ronny stared at Pudge, cocking his head to the side. "I guess maybe I am. Don't tell anyone," he added.
"Of course not. You haven't told anyone about me, have you?"
"No. Never. I know it could be bad for you. I wouldn't do that to you, Pudge," he said simply.
"Thanks," Pudge answered.
Totally Homo Pudge And Ronny: Chapter 27
Pudge had hoped that Ronny would not mind him
showing up unannounced, but how was he to convince Ronny to let him come
over on the phone? He would have to say that he needed to talk to him,
and then Ronny would ask about what. And how could he ask such a
question over the phone? Pudge couldn't refuse to answer, since Ronny
would assume that he wanted to talk about Jesus, and Ronny's lack
thereof. Ronny would not take kindly to that.
Perhaps it was impolite to ask about Ronny, but Ronny knew about him (though at the time he had felt he had no choice but to tell the very worried Ronny). And this would be in private, and he felt that Ronny needed to hear that whatever he was, it was all right. If he had truly been okay with himself, after all, he might have told Pudge that he was also gay.
Pudge also wanted to know, for his own reasons. But he wouldn't mention those.
His heart pounded as he drove over that Friday evening, Pudge getting more anxious as he parked and walked up the small, unkempt front yard to the door.
To his surprise, somewhere in the house small Ronny must have seen him, because he suddenly yelled, "Pudge!" in an excited tone. Ronny was happy to see him! Pudge instantly relaxed. He had been so afraid of bothering Ronny, and now his friend was happy he was there!
To his confusion, though, Ronny took his time coming to the door. Pudge knocked tentatively, waited nearly a minute, then rang the doorbell. He hated to be rude, but he was starting to get worried. Was Ronny sick or something? Was he being killed in there?
He heard running, and Ronny opened the door, breathless and nervous. "Pudge!" he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, um, I'm sorry to bother you, Ronny, I just thought I'd stop by, I...didn't you see me come up?" Pudge asked.
"No. Why?" Ronny seemed confused.
"You shouted at me. You were like, 'Pudge!' so I assumed you were looking out the window."
"Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, I saw you. I just...I forgot about that," he said quickly.
Pudge stared at him in disbelief. "Ronny, are you on drugs?!"
"What?! No! No, of course not! Hey, you want to come in?" he changed the subject.
Pudge stepped inside. The lights were dim, as if Ronny hadn't been in the tiny living room. There was a solitary couch facing a TV, with a small table beside it. There were a couple of dirty dishes on it, but the place was pretty clean otherwise.
"Want a soda?" Ronny asked, already heading towards the kitchen. He seemed jumpy, almost guilty, as if he were hiding something.
"NO! Ronny, stop! What's going on here? I'm starting to worry about you!"
Ronny stopped, swallowing hard. "Okay, Pudge, you want to know the truth? I was looking at porn when you came up," he said bluntly, "and then seeing you frightened me, so I yelled. That's what happened."
"Oh." Pudge hoped it was the whole truth. He had never thought Ronny would resort to substance abuse, but he had also found out that Ronny had been hurt more than he realized, growing up with friends like his. Pudge couldn't deny that, though they meant well and loved him, he himself found it stressful trying to live up to their standards. How much worse might it be, for someone like Ronny? Ronny didn't believe the same things, but he might have felt judged by them.
"Um...should I leave?" Pudge asked.
"No. No, it's fine. Unless you want to leave. I didn't mean to shock you," he smiled apologetically.
"It's okay," Pudge shrugged sheepishly, though, indeed, he was shocked. "You...have different beliefs."
"Yeah," he nodded.
There was a moment of awkwardness between them, not unlike the one right after Pudge had told Ronny he was gay.
"But I washed my hands!" Ronny blurted out uncomfortably, showing Pudge his wet hands.
"Okay." Pudge nodded encouragingly. He didn't know what else to say. He wondered briefly what kind of pornography Ronny had been viewing. With Pudge's luck, it must have been straight porn.
"So...um...you...you want to sit down?" Ronny asked, indicating the couch.
"Sure." They sat down uncomfortably, on opposite ends of the couch.
Pudge had never been in a situation where someone had told them they had just viewed pornography a few minutes ago, but he knew all about "soul-winning" and breaking the ice of being in a stranger's home. He relaxed, then asked pleasantly, as if nothing had happened, "So, Ronny, how did you like church on Sunday?"
"Um...it was...interesting, I guess? Wasn't Sodom where they had all the gay sex?" he asked.
"Yeah. Well, actually, I've been reading about stuff like that, and it was actually rape--not sex," Pudge began excitedly.
"They changed it to 'kill' for the kiddies. They actually handed out a paper, that said Sodom didn't care for the poor, and that's what was wrong. It was actually pretty...enlightened, I guess."
"Really?" Pudge was surprised. But knowing what he now did about Happy, maybe he shouldn't be. "I didn't know that."
"Yeah, it was...it was okay. For what it was." Ronny shrugged.
"It was nice seeing you there, though," Pudge couldn't help but add.
Ronny stared at him, his lip curled up in disgust. "Oh god, Pudge, is that what this is about?! I thought you were too gay to preach at me!"
"I'm still a Christian!" Pudge protested. "But that's not why I'm here--honest! I came because of this!" Pudge took the paper out of his back pocket.
"Oh god," Ronny said softly. "Oh no. I didn't get you in trouble, did I? I didn't mean to leave it there, I swear!"
"It's okay! No one found it, except...well, except a friend. Are you gay, Ronny?" he asked softly.
Ronny stared at him, mouth open, suddenly near tears. He was unable to answer.
Perhaps it was impolite to ask about Ronny, but Ronny knew about him (though at the time he had felt he had no choice but to tell the very worried Ronny). And this would be in private, and he felt that Ronny needed to hear that whatever he was, it was all right. If he had truly been okay with himself, after all, he might have told Pudge that he was also gay.
Pudge also wanted to know, for his own reasons. But he wouldn't mention those.
His heart pounded as he drove over that Friday evening, Pudge getting more anxious as he parked and walked up the small, unkempt front yard to the door.
To his surprise, somewhere in the house small Ronny must have seen him, because he suddenly yelled, "Pudge!" in an excited tone. Ronny was happy to see him! Pudge instantly relaxed. He had been so afraid of bothering Ronny, and now his friend was happy he was there!
To his confusion, though, Ronny took his time coming to the door. Pudge knocked tentatively, waited nearly a minute, then rang the doorbell. He hated to be rude, but he was starting to get worried. Was Ronny sick or something? Was he being killed in there?
He heard running, and Ronny opened the door, breathless and nervous. "Pudge!" he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, um, I'm sorry to bother you, Ronny, I just thought I'd stop by, I...didn't you see me come up?" Pudge asked.
"No. Why?" Ronny seemed confused.
"You shouted at me. You were like, 'Pudge!' so I assumed you were looking out the window."
"Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, I saw you. I just...I forgot about that," he said quickly.
Pudge stared at him in disbelief. "Ronny, are you on drugs?!"
"What?! No! No, of course not! Hey, you want to come in?" he changed the subject.
Pudge stepped inside. The lights were dim, as if Ronny hadn't been in the tiny living room. There was a solitary couch facing a TV, with a small table beside it. There were a couple of dirty dishes on it, but the place was pretty clean otherwise.
"Want a soda?" Ronny asked, already heading towards the kitchen. He seemed jumpy, almost guilty, as if he were hiding something.
"NO! Ronny, stop! What's going on here? I'm starting to worry about you!"
Ronny stopped, swallowing hard. "Okay, Pudge, you want to know the truth? I was looking at porn when you came up," he said bluntly, "and then seeing you frightened me, so I yelled. That's what happened."
"Oh." Pudge hoped it was the whole truth. He had never thought Ronny would resort to substance abuse, but he had also found out that Ronny had been hurt more than he realized, growing up with friends like his. Pudge couldn't deny that, though they meant well and loved him, he himself found it stressful trying to live up to their standards. How much worse might it be, for someone like Ronny? Ronny didn't believe the same things, but he might have felt judged by them.
"Um...should I leave?" Pudge asked.
"No. No, it's fine. Unless you want to leave. I didn't mean to shock you," he smiled apologetically.
"It's okay," Pudge shrugged sheepishly, though, indeed, he was shocked. "You...have different beliefs."
"Yeah," he nodded.
There was a moment of awkwardness between them, not unlike the one right after Pudge had told Ronny he was gay.
"But I washed my hands!" Ronny blurted out uncomfortably, showing Pudge his wet hands.
"Okay." Pudge nodded encouragingly. He didn't know what else to say. He wondered briefly what kind of pornography Ronny had been viewing. With Pudge's luck, it must have been straight porn.
"So...um...you...you want to sit down?" Ronny asked, indicating the couch.
"Sure." They sat down uncomfortably, on opposite ends of the couch.
Pudge had never been in a situation where someone had told them they had just viewed pornography a few minutes ago, but he knew all about "soul-winning" and breaking the ice of being in a stranger's home. He relaxed, then asked pleasantly, as if nothing had happened, "So, Ronny, how did you like church on Sunday?"
"Um...it was...interesting, I guess? Wasn't Sodom where they had all the gay sex?" he asked.
"Yeah. Well, actually, I've been reading about stuff like that, and it was actually rape--not sex," Pudge began excitedly.
"They changed it to 'kill' for the kiddies. They actually handed out a paper, that said Sodom didn't care for the poor, and that's what was wrong. It was actually pretty...enlightened, I guess."
"Really?" Pudge was surprised. But knowing what he now did about Happy, maybe he shouldn't be. "I didn't know that."
"Yeah, it was...it was okay. For what it was." Ronny shrugged.
"It was nice seeing you there, though," Pudge couldn't help but add.
Ronny stared at him, his lip curled up in disgust. "Oh god, Pudge, is that what this is about?! I thought you were too gay to preach at me!"
"I'm still a Christian!" Pudge protested. "But that's not why I'm here--honest! I came because of this!" Pudge took the paper out of his back pocket.
"Oh god," Ronny said softly. "Oh no. I didn't get you in trouble, did I? I didn't mean to leave it there, I swear!"
"It's okay! No one found it, except...well, except a friend. Are you gay, Ronny?" he asked softly.
Ronny stared at him, mouth open, suddenly near tears. He was unable to answer.
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