Pastor Assclown In Drag

I wonder, just a little bit, if my ex-friend, the closeted/homophobic Pastor Assclown, tried to put a "hedge of thorns" or some other "spiritual warfare" thing in my life, a few months ago. I had this very strange dream at that time, in which he tried to curse me, and I broke the curse in the name of Jesus.
I know that the address on this site contains the word "atheist," but it is an old name. I don't know if the atheists will have me, anymore, since I hope God is real, if God is good (and I don't think God is all-powerful, if she is good; there's no way).
I still don't know for sure if Jesus even existed or not, and I probably will never know. But I am grateful for the useful psychological trick, if it is nothing else. That's one of the few good things left over from my desperate-for-God's-approval evangelical background.

I had a dream that I had a roommate, a young woman who called herself Divine. She was trying to put a voodoo curse on me, which I discovered by finding her chocolate voodoo dolls. (Yes, I ate them! They were delicious.) But later, we were eating dinner together, and the food kept spilling all over me. I realized that she had cursed my food to do just that, and she was laughing hysterically at me.
I got tired of it all, so I looked down at my plate, and said, "I break you, cursed food, in the name of Jesus!"
She stopped laughing. Then she took on her true form, which to my surprise was Pastor Assclown. I looked straight at him, and said, "You picked the wrong girl to fuck with!"
He just stared at me in astonishment, so I went on, "You know how you're gay? I did that!"
I told him that I cursed him to be gay, since I knew that he couldn't break that in the name of Jesus. I was confident that that would not happen, since if it could, my kind gay Christian friend, Michael, would still be with his wife, and not his husband. Even the husband would still be with his wife.
And I wanted to look powerful, more powerful than Pastor Assclown's magic. I also wanted him to realize that since he couldn't break that with spiritual warfare, then maybe it was something that was not actually a curse or from the devil.

I woke up, and realized that he had been disguised as a girl. He had been in drag! And he had called himself Divine, after the drag queen that Ursula, the Sea-Witch from The Little Mermaid, was based upon. And he was a witch, trying to curse me!
He was also closeted, like I suspect all homophobes by default. He had not denied that he was gay, had not even been able to answer me--had simply stared at me. I then realized that I had a plastic figure of Ursula literally sitting on a shelf in my closet. This was in real life. I still have that Ursula statue.
The layers and layers of meaning are incredible, to me at least. But I do know one thing for sure: If he did indeed try to declare spiritual warfare on me, then he picked the wrong girl to fuck with. I couldn't have said it better myself!

A sea-witch and a mermaid. And lots of cats.

LGBT: Bigots Hate Onions

I was reading an article (I can't remember where) about the healing properties of herbs, recently, and the entry for onions (which I absolutely love, but only if the spiciness is cooked out) mentioned that they were sometimes used for "magical protection" from enemies.
I laughed aloud, thinking of the greatest "enemy" in my life, my Uncle 'Phobe. Onions are probably the only thing, other than maybe the Chicago Cubs (the "scumbags," I don't know why), that he hates even more than (his own) homosexuality! They would certainly protect me from him!
Ever since I was very small, I have heard the words, "I hate onions!" or "I can't believe they put onions in this! I told them not to!" literally every time I have been at a restaurant with him or one of my aunts. Every. Single. Time.
I honestly think that he and my aunt, his sister, are allergic to onions. But that doesn't excuse the way they act about them. They live in a pro-onion world, but are not understanding about it at all. The amount of disgust and vehemence they save for onions, and any mention of onions, is truly ugly. They consider it a great personal insult if the waiter forgets that they said, "No onions. I can't stand them!" in a busy, noisy restaurant while pressed for time. Uncle 'Phobe says that he can taste the onions in the pizza crust even after picking them out (and he makes sure you know what he thinks about that!).

My aunt actually sends food back, if it has onions in it, in a quite blunt way. I don't like eating with her, because I'm afraid they will think I am like her, and I don't want my food spit in. She once said, "No guacamole. It often has onions, and I hate onions. I can't stand them at all," rather quietly, in a noisy restaurant, while the waiter was busy and pressed for time. He obviously heard "No guacamole," while writing down her order, and got that right, but then she got offended when the food had onions, and sent it back.
I don't know where she stands on LGBT issues. She has been homophobic before, but more recently made rather neutral comments about my kind gay Christian friend ("I don't care if he's gay."), so I don't know. It might be different if she finds out that someone in her own family (me) is gay (or in my case, bisexual but "mostly" lesbian).

And ironically, my grandparents' house, the place where my Uncle 'Phobe lives, and where most family gatherings take place, is abundantly blessed with wild onions, growing all over the place! So I have a wonderful opportunity here.
I love digging them up, and I wonder if I can make a nice necklace out of them, daisy-chain style. Even if onions are not "magical," they would certainly act as a subconscious repellent, if those two saw me wearing onions, or subconsciously smelled it on my skin. They would not want to mess with me, probably even if I disagreed with them. I guess this herb really does provide protection!
And my uncle and my aunt are the two people in my family that I am most afraid of being both homophobic, and very angry. I have always been afraid of their anger, especially his, which almost got violent once, when I was small and called him the devil for physically picking on me.

What is also interesting, at least to me, is that my grandfather ("Papa"), loves to eat raw onions. I remember once I hugged him, when saying goodbye, and his breath stank. I turned my head away. He laughed and said, "You smell my onion?" and I laughed too.
And he is the one that I most fear grieving, and worrying, if I end up coming out in the course of disagreeing with someone. I can't live my life for him, or hide my wonderful, beautiful rainbow light under a bushel--but I hope if this happens, I have the chance to address any concerns he has and reassure him, somehow. And I also hope that he isn't "put off" by me, after seeing me in a certain (straight) light for so long.
Hopefully, the onion will repel whom it's supposed to--and make me palatable to the person or people it's supposed to.

I also am very fond of onions, particularly tiny wild onions, because of a fond memory of my late "heart-cat," Feezl. She was a very active cat, and she once found a dried wild onion, from my grandparent's house, that I had dropped on the floor. She started playing with it, attacking it as if it was a feather. Then she realized that I was sitting on my bed, and jumped up to come see me. I started petting her, then started laughing, because she had my Papa's onion breath! It was truly awful, and that was what made it so endearing. I love onions even more now.
I once "prayed" to Feezl, asking her to come home, when she was missing. The next day another cat, who had been missing for six days, returned, to our great surprise. She did not come back, herself; perhaps because she was dead. But it was as if she sent Sebastian home, even if she couldn't come back herself. Ever since then, I have been so grateful to her, and I have the feeling that she is watching out for me. She cared about me in life, a great deal, and it seems that that has not changed. Perhaps I can wear wild onions for my patron Saint, and she will look out for me as much as she can.

I went to a metaphysical bookstore, last week, with my mother, because I wanted to look at their herbs. I also bought some small, beautiful amethysts that I absolutely fell in love with. They are also my birthstone.
"I don't think they're magic," I remarked to my mom as we left, "but I love them so much!"
"If they make you happy, aren't they magic?" she asked.
I had never thought of it that way! If something makes me happy, or it has a "placebo effect," then isn't it "magic"? And if it has a placebo effect, then weren't those healing or psychological potentials within me all along? Perhaps some people are right, when they say that certain things "channel one's energy," or have energy, themselves.
Onions mean so much to me, in so many ways. If any herb is magical, for me, then this is it. With the onions, I can banish the bigots and bring on the blessings--and then eat them. :)

Bisexuality: Why The "Percentage Question" Doesn't Bother Me

I am fascinated by LGBT experiences, and one thing I have repeatedly come across, which I thought was very strange, was the writings and views of other bisexuals, who said that they were hurt when people asked them, "How gay are you?" or referred to them as "half-gay, half-straight," etc.
This was quite confusing to me, since one of the first things I wondered, when first finding out about my sexuality, was "how gay" and "how straight" I was. I still wonder that, sometimes.
I thought that it was simply a potentially interesting conversation: "Oh, you're bi too? That's great! What are your percentages? I'm about 80% lesbian myself..."
I have found at least one commentor online who feels the same way, too. And she was just like me: 80-20 in favor of other women.
I have also heard one person say that they are "fully gay and fully straight" at the same time, which I suppose is true for me, but I also don't mind "dividing" myself up, either. After all, if one is half black and half white, for example, it still adds up to a whole person, however one's race is divided.
 
Some people think that this idea of percentages means that one only loves their boyfriend or girlfriend half as much (or whatever percentage) as a gay or straight person. But that's nonsense. To me, it means that, for someone who is "50-50," roughly half of the people they are attracted to are the opposite sex, and half are the same sex. Or, if you prefer, half of the people they like are of a gender expression different than them, and half are of the same type of gender expression.
Some people also say that this excludes trans and non-binary people from the equation. I disagree. I would date a trans person just as easily as I would date a cisgender person. It simply depends upon the person, their character, and whether they are pleasant to be around. Most people aren't, so I don't date most people. :)
I may change my mind on this if I get some real-world experience, but I can't imagine genitals mattering that much to me, so why would I care if the person I liked was trans or cis? Trans people may think of themselves in different categories than cis people--but for my purposes here, they simply go in the same categories cisgender people go in: male and female, depending on what they think of themselves as. For intersex people, it would be the same thing.
As for non-binary people, some of them have gender expressions that are more masculine/boyish, and some have gender expressions that are more "femme." So our theoretical "half-and-half" bisexual person would still be possibly attracted to them. They would either be of the 50% of "attractive" people who fit into the feminine category, or of the 50% of "attractive" people fitting into the masculine category. Or both categories at different times. Or, they would be rather gender-neutral, in which case they would fit into both categories, since they have typical characteristics of both sexes.
Remember, these categories are how our theoretical bisexual person would see people they are attracted to, not necessarily how these people would see themselves--since we all have different views of what we consider feminine and masculine, and those might affect whether we find others attractive or not.
I personally have never met a non-binary person I have been attracted to (or, I think, who has ever been attracted to me), though I'm not ruling out the possibility. But since they're relatively rare, it probably won't happen.

My personal statistics, as of this writing (it may change, as it has already "changed" over the last two years that I've known I was bisexual), are roughly 80% in favor of other girls, and 20% in favor of guys (by my rough estimate).
I came to this conclusion because I saw a lesbian on Youtube (Arielle Scarcella) say that most bisexuals tend to be 60-40 in favor of the opposite sex. I thought that the opposite was true for me; then I realized it was more, so I thought of 70-30 in favor of other girls. Then I realized that that was not accurate, either, so it became 80-20. I wondered if it was 90-10, but that seemed like too much. So I am four-fifths gay, and one-fifth straight. At this point in my life.
This is just a rough estimate of the people I find attractive and their respective sexes. Someday I may do a more scientific method, with an actual count (like when I tallied up all my favorite Marvel and DC characters, and there were more favorite DC characters, so I liked DC better), but I am comfortable with that number, for now. I believe it is mostly accurate.
It could also apply to how likely I think I am to find a girlfriend or boyfriend. Since thinking about this over the past few months, I see myself more with another girl than with a guy.
Funnily enough, my mom said the exact same thing to me, the other day. Out of the blue, as we were talking, she said, "I can just see you more with a woman, than with a man." I thought that was so interesting and amusing that she came to the same conclusion as me, since we are very close. Then she added, "Because men are dicks!" :)
Maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe I would date a guy, if it was the right (very nice, non-dickish) guy, but that is a big maybe. The "maybe" is there, though, so I have to acknowledge it, though it has been hard to find guys that are "my type," whatever that is. Most people, in general, I am simply not attracted to, and of those that I am attracted to, it seems that much fewer are men.

If you want to find out your own "numbers," one thing that helps is to disregard all forms of erotica when "counting."
I once saw a fascinating comment online by someone who was a lesbian, but absolutely adored "yaoi" fan fiction. In other words, she loved reading stories where two male characters fell in love and made love, but would never consider getting involved romantically with a man, herself, in her own life.
This made so much sense to me, since I love to write about male-male couples (especially Buzz and Woody) and draw charcoal nudes of the male body--but the more I do that, it seems, the more I find myself thinking of women (though not necessarily in a sexual way), and wondering what it would be like to have a girlfriend.
It's as if my artist or writer side is drawn aesthetically to one sex, but the rest of me wants to balance it out by making me think warmly of women. My inner self wants balance in my life.
It could also be the fact that, though I love all couples, I think straight couples look and seem so strange, since they're not even matching. And it's such a turn-off, in a few different ways. It's just more aesthetically pleasing to me if couples are matching--even if I'm in the couple! :)

When God Takes Away Toy Story: An Unhappy Christian Childhood

When I was about twelve or thirteen, my mother and I started watching shows on the Christian networks about demons and demonic items. And we started getting scared that maybe some of our stuff was demonic, and letting in bad influences. So we got rid of a bunch of stuff, especially Disney stuff, since there was so much witchcraft in Disney films. It hurt--but we thought that's what God wanted.
My mom didn't make me get rid of all this stuff. I bought into all of this just as much as she did, and I was very desperate to have the close, joyful relationship with God that I had always wanted--that was promised to me, if I got born again and REALLY meant it! (Though I get saved, many times--so many times that I eventually sensed a pattern, and stopped because I knew exactly what would happen and was tired of the pattern.)
So I got rid of a lot of things and movies that I had really enjoyed. It was hard to do, but I had to give up everything for God. This world would be hard, if one was a Christian, but it beat the fiery alternative. And I had to love God more than anything, or I was shallow and selfish and not a "real" Christian. I didn't want to be any of those things, either. And I really did want to feel close to God and to please him.
I also got rid of some things that I didn't think were demonic, but that were "idols," I thought, because I loved them and thought about them too much. I got rid of my most precious possessions, my Toy Story toys. I was absolutely miserable--but if this didn't work, then nothing would! I had to find a way to be close to God, or I would never be happy in my relationship with him, and I might even "fall away" and go to hell.
About a year or two later, my mother and I couldn't believe how desperate we had been. And we had not felt any closer to God, for all of our efforts.
"I can't believe I got rid of so many things I loved," I shook my head, in much regret.
 "Well, I hope you're not mad at me, but...I kept your Toy Story toys," she said.
I cannot begin to describe how relieved and thankful I was, then! I had them back! There were all of my old friends, who had been with me since I was very little. I even still have the Barney Bag that I have always stored them in!
I remember, before the madness of getting rid of them, that I had stayed up late literally every night, lying in my bed and thinking of new adventures for Woody and Buzz "in real life," where they were humans and not toys. They lived in the nineteenth century, and each had a family. Woody was the sheriff of the town, and they were neighbors. Woody also lived on a farm. He and Bo Peep were married, and he was always trying to catch Jesse James (not Jessie the cowgirl, who was his sister).
Toy Story was the first movie I went to see in the theaters, at five years old, and it literally had set the course for the rest of my life. I obsessed endlessly over two questions: When would Andy find out that his toys were alive? And when would they become real people?
Ninety percent of the time, my cousins and I played one of two games: Batman, and Toy Story. I always had to be Woody, even though I wasn't a boy. I invented such elaborate scenarios that I finally had to suggest that we play "non-stop," where we didn't stop to say something like "and pretend that Jessie James and Zurg were friends..." We never lasted more than one or two minutes like that, but it was fun.
Toy Story was what made me first start writing fiction, if only in my head. And writing fiction remains one of the great passions of my life, even now. It set the course for my entire life. I was still writing stories of Woody and Buzz in my head almost constantly, at twelve years old--and that's why I thought it was an idol and that God was surely displeased.
It's amazing to me now that something that brings me so much joy, could be considered a bad thing. If God is really worth knowing, wouldn't he want me to be happy? And if he doesn't want me to be so happy, is he really worth knowing?
I was taught to distrust my own gut and my own emotions, when they told me what I needed. I was afraid to trust myself and my own judgment, especially about right and wrong. But now I understand that I need to go back to the original source of my inspiration, if I'm going to be happy and fulfilled.
I have a theory on the Toy Story toys actually being haunted/reincarnated, which I published a week or two ago. There may be a flaw in that, because of the multiple Buzz Lightyears in the second movie, but in my opinion, the "second Buzz" had an entirely different personality from the "real" Buzz. So I'm still working on that one.
I also am writing a very long Toy Story fan fiction, about Woody and Buzz falling in love. There are no farms this time; it is set in the Buzz Lightyear of Star Command universe, and Woody is a wanted thief who kidnaps Buzz to sell him to his enemies--and he has made a lot of enemies, as a decorated Space Ranger!
 It will be finished soon, and I will publish the chapters on my Deviant Art page--I'll let everyone know here when it is up. I usually like to write an entire story before publishing it, unlike with my other romance story, about the Accelerated Christian Education characters, Pudge and Ronny (that story is on the "Gay Christian Fanfiction" page at the top of the blog, or on my Deviant Art Page). I will continue writing the ACE story soon, too, though I am focusing on Toy Story for now. (I also have another story on my Deviant Art page, about Captain America's sidekick, Bucky, and his sister, a transgender Mary Marvel.)
This fascination with Toy Story may seem silly to a lot of people--but now that I can, I have to listen to my own gut and emotions, when they tell me what's right and wrong, or what I need in my life. There's nothing wrong with loving something, as I've discovered--and love is love, as Woody and Buzz will discover. I plan to include a lot of the other characters from the Toy Story movies, as well. A sci-fi setting, with all of its alien races, is perfect for such things. :)
And I'm especially glad that I still have my absolute, all-time favorite toys, because I've made them reenact some of the scenes in my upcoming story for you here:

"Christian" Is Not A Choice--But Hurting Others Is

I recently made the point that, at least to an extent, one cannot choose their belief system. However, one can choose how to express it.
You do not have a "right" to own a business. If your personal beliefs do not let you serve everyone equally, then the decent and ethical thing to do would be to sell your business, so that others do not have to be discriminated against. Even if it's your dream, to own such a business--because it's our dream to be equal citizens, and not have to be told we're abominations when we're planning the happiest day of our lives. Sometimes people feel led to give up their dreams, for God; that's just the way it is. (Or should Rosa have simply gone to the back of the bus, and not "caused trouble"?)
You also do not have a right to demand that the government support "biblical" marriage. Marriage, at least in this sense, is a legal contract. If it was the government's business what "real" marriage was, then divorced people would not be allowed to remarry. You are a hypocrite, if you support one form of "unbiblical" marriage, and not another--especially if you are divorced yourself. (And if you really did repent, then you would try to get back together with your ex or one of your exes! At least Kim Davis did that much.)
Now matter how much I pity or sympathize with other people, I must fight them, as much as I can, if they are hurting others. And they don't get to decide whether they're hurting others or not; abusers mostly don't know that they're abusers! One can only really know how much they are being hurt, not how much they are hurting others. Abusers don't think of what they're doing as abuse, and rapists often don't think of what they did as rape, because it doesn't fit the cliches. You don't have to intend to hurt someone, or even to know you're hurting them, in order to hurt them.
It doesn't even matter how much or how little you "hate" other people; if you are hurting people, you are hurting people! The fact that you say you love us, does not make being second-class citizens hurt any less. (And what the heck do you call people who don't have equal rights? There's a name for these people: Second-class citizens!)
I'm not sure why people expect me to care whether they hate me or not. That has absolutely nothing to do with whether one is hurting others.

I couldn't shake my beliefs in hell, and a homophobic and sexist god, for a long time. And it was because of fear--because anything different seemed too good to be true. And I was taught to distrust any idea that I liked or actually wanted to believe, because my flesh was bad. But I'm glad that social media was not around when I was thirteen. I'm glad I couldn't hurt very many people with my inherently hurtful beliefs. I was a prisoner to these beliefs, but I still could have done a lot of damage.
Bothering other people, when they don't want to listen to your message, is not okay. Taking away legal rights is not okay. Discrimination, even in the name of God, is not okay. You have a choice: To ask if someone wants to hear your message, and then respect their "no," as Jesus said to in the bible. To understand that it is a legal contract, and that you cannot force your religion onto others. To sell your business, or choose not to do any weddings at all.
If people were being fired for marrying someone of the opposite sex, Christians would be outraged. If people were being denied the right to legally marry the opposite sex, they would be livid--even though they could always marry in their church, anyway. And if Muslims were refusing to do Christian weddings, people would not be talking about business owners' rights as if they were sacred.
Being Christian, or even conservative, is sometimes not a choice. But hurting others is. If you have a deeply held religious belief, you are the one who should make the sacrifices--not others. Apparently, a lot of Christians do not believe in a god that rewards their sacrifices made for him. Or they do not believe that the rewards will be worth it...Interesting...

"Gay" Is Not A Choice--And Neither Is "Christian"

 One of my Facebook friends posted recently about feeling very old, and a friend of his left this very interesting comment:

 I have 2 young men in their 20's and a gay son in his 50's. He introduced me to the boys and of course I am old enough to be their great grandfather both of these really intelligent young men find me fascinating both in and out of bed. I have not slept with my son bye the bye.

 I looked on this man's profile, and coincidentally, he lives only about an hour north of me (there's a small chance I might know either or both of his two lovers, and not be aware of it). He is sixty-nine and also a big marijuana enthusiast. He's an old-school, bearded, free-love hippie.
I had somewhat of a difficult time deciphering the story from that comment, but I believe that he and his son shared two younger lovers. And apparently, his son is okay with that. I thought that the funniest part was the last sentence, when he felt he had to say that he's never slept with his son. 

That was just a funny tidbit that I wanted to share. This same guy later shared a meme about gay Christianity, saying it was "proof beyond a shadow of a doubt" that "gay Christians suck." (Well, yeah, they do, but only the men!) The meme was a photo of two men hugging and laughing, over which were the words, "I am a proud, gay, Christian man. Yes, you read that right. Gay AND Christian. God loves me. Get over yourself."
I'm not sure how that proves, exactly, that anyone sucks. Except perhaps for the people who can't get over themselves.
But this reminded me of one of the Gay Christian Network's frequently asked questions, "Why identify as Christian when so many Christians are anti-gay?" 
And yet I've been asked by homophobic Christians (when arguing "as" a gay Christian--I have kind of a Christian "side," so I don't feel like I'm lying) why I call myself gay (I'm actually bisexual, but it's just easier than explaining that I see myself more with another woman). "Why not just call yourself a Christian?" one of them asked. 
These two questions both reveal a lot of ignorance and insensitivity. "Why call yourself gay?" and "Why call yourself a Christian?" can both be answered in the exact same way: Because it's something that you believe is accurate to describe yourself (why lie?), something that you feel you can't change, and something that you just identify with, for whatever reason.
If people have a personal problem with Christianity, or their own Christian past, I totally understand that (believe me--this blog's title was, and its address still is, "Atheist Journeys"--I've been there!). But religion is a lot like sexual orientation: It's something that you don't (can't) really "choose," and it's a part of people's identity. (But we still are obligated to do everything in our power to ensure that the religious do not harm or bother others--and we don't allow harmful people to decide how much they're harming others, either. One can only know how much they ARE harmed; not how much they harm others--no matter what they think God tells them!)

It took me so many years to escape the fear of hell, even when I considered myself an atheist, and after I had figured out years before that I couldn't be a devout Christian. Sometimes I still feel bothered by it, even though I was much more bothered as a born-again evangelical. 
Did I choose to believe in hell, or in God? No. And I can't make myself say, "I know God is real, I know Jesus was God," etc, even now, because I don't know for sure. I couldn't make myself not believe, and I can't myself believe, either. 
You believe what you believe, just like you love whom you love. (Again, your beliefs, and love for that matter, do NOT justify any kind of harm or discrimination whatsoever--and you don't have a right to own a business!)
Just because one gay person can leave religion behind, doesn't mean that they all can--or want to. And I don't believe Christians/theists--gay, straight, or anti-gay (which is just gay, in my opinion!)--should ever look down on non-believers, either. As long as one is not discriminating against or harming others (including their potentially gay kids, family, and friends), I don't think it matters what one believes, as far as God goes. 
LGBT people especially should be understanding and considerate of each other, whether they believe or not. We have too many people trying to tear us down. Let's not tear down each other, please. Thank you. :)

Christian And "Christian"

I mentioned recently that anti-gay Christians want me to deny Christ, when I argue as a gay Christian. They brag that they would never, ever, EVER deny Christ, under penalty of torture or death, then they try to get me to do just that, because I don't fit their exact definition of a Christian.
Whenever I come across these awful people, my first thought is, "I know I'm more 'Christian' than they are!" I use this word to mean two different things, in my own mind, but in this case, I believe that I am a kinder and less angry person than they are. And probably closer to what Jesus actually taught.
I think of the word "Christian" sometimes to mean devoutness, or certainty. I am not as devout in behavior as some of my gay Christian friends, or as certain as them about God's existence.
But I also think of the word "Christian," to refer to one's character, behavior towards others, or likely closeness to what I believe Jesus's message really was.
I don't read the bible, and I don't offer up formal prayers. My reasons are that doing those things only makes me feel as frustrated and inadequate as a Christian as I felt for years while doing those things. It's "triggering," emotionally tiring, and upsetting for me. So I'm less devout, apparently, than some of my gay and affirming Christian friends (and I don't have Christian friends who aren't one of those things; the only anti-gay Christians I see, share some DNA with me, and I only see them when I have to).
But someone said to be as good and all-knowing as God, would know that it's not because I hate him, or whatever people want to accuse me of. I hope that God is real, if God is as I suspect, but I'm not going to count on that. I've trusted God--and nothing else--to catch me before, and have fallen really hard and gotten hurt.
I don't tell the people I occasionally argue with on the internet all of this, because it would instantly destroy my credibility with them (not that it's in great shape, anyway!), as well as that of much more devout gay Christians than I. It also has nothing to do with my sexuality, and it's none of their business.
But as far as being "Christian" (close to God, like Christ) goes, I think it involves much more than just the works. Paul talked about doing good works (not even praying and reading the bible, but actual good works like feeding the poor), "but if I have not love, I am nothing."
And the thing about love is, if the person you love doesn't feel loved, then you might as well not love them. It benefits no one, if your loved one feels unloved.
The next world may exist, but this one does exist. Anti-gay Christians are hurting people in this world, in the hopes of helping them in the next one (at best). But there may not be a next one.
In my research, I have found only two instances in scripture where Jesus actually told people to stop sinning. In one, he had just healed a man of chronic illness. In the other, he had just saved a sinful woman's life. He earned the right to talk about other people's sin, even though scripture says he was sinless himself. How many LGBT people can say that an anti-gay Christian saved their life, or made their lives better in a very significant way?
Jesus even told a man (the one lowered in from the roof) that his sins were forgiven, before the man had even said anything about repenting. He told sinners that "your faith has saved you," and "your faith has made you well." He did not even say "your repentance has saved you."
Jesus was not as "hard on sin" (and by that, they always mean the sins of others, never their own!) as some Christians want to think. The "goats" were condemned for their unkindness, the virgins for their unreadiness, the Pharisees for their hypocrisy--but as far as I can recall, no one was condemned for their actual sin. Jesus also said that "prostitutes and sinners will enter the kingdom of heaven before you," to the religious leaders. He did not say "repentant prostitutes and sinners..."
And if he was talking constantly about other people's sins, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have gotten invited to parties with sinners, much less had a great following among them.
I don't think Jesus would be like the people who talk about other people's sins (though never their own), and that's why I can think of myself as more "Christian" than them. If I'm wrong, then at least I tried to love people, and not hurt them in this life--which is the only life we are really guaranteed.
Like I said, the next world may exist, but this one does exist. So we shouldn't be hurting each other in this one, just because of our fear of the next one.

The Lesbian Coworker

When I was about fourteen, my mother and I were both evangelicals (and had pretty much identical beliefs, because we talked endlessly about Christianity, hypocrisy, etc). She got a new job, right around the time that Massachusetts was in the headlines for issuing marriage licenses to gay couples. You can probably predict how we felt about that.
One of my mother's new coworkers was a lesbian. "She has a 'wife,'" my mother told me, saying "wife" in a slightly different way than the other words.
This coworker, whom I will call Connie, had a hard time of it, because most of the people in that office, including the boss and the boss's boss, were evangelical Christians. I remember being surprised to learn that fact, at the time, since this was an office of the local Native American tribe. Even then, it struck me as strange that those with heavily Native American bloodlines apparently did not embrace the spiritual traditions of their culture. But I had been taught that Christianity was always a good thing, so I didn't think much about that.
From what I heard, Connie's lesbianism came up relatively often. My mom told the story of the office receptionist (a Christian, of course) remarking in one such conversation, "Yeah, I like you, Connie, and you're the first one of those I've met."
"'One of those'?" I repeated, astonished. Even then, I knew that that was most definitely the wrong way to put it.
"Yeah, 'one of those'!" my mom laughed. Though remembering the story now, it makes me cringe, as it probably now would for my mom. Ugh.
My mom brought black licorice candy to work one day, offering it to her coworkers. All of them declined it, hated it, declaring their love for "red licorice." (One of my biggest pet peeves, as "red licorice" does not occur in nature--come on, people, we don't have to say "white vanilla" or talk about "brown vanilla" when we really mean chocolate; say strawberry, for goodness' sake, that's what you really like!).
"Is that black licorice?" Connie asked, walking by. "Can I have some? I love black licorice!" she explained, taking some.
"You like black licorice?" my mom asked. "Connie, you're my kind of woman!" she declared, throwing an arm around her and squeezing.
Another time, my mother and I were going somewhere, and I asked her why I had to move the passenger seat up in her car.
"Connie was sitting there, today. She's really tall. We were carpooling, since we both come from the same direction for work," she answered.
My mom recounted how Connie told her of their boss saying, "I don't approve of your lifestyle," and then, upon learning that Connie's wife was trying to get pregnant, "'she said she would pray for me, and I found that highly offensive!'"
"Yeah, I can see why it would be offensive," my mom had replied. "I hope you and Catherine do get pregnant."
I was a little surprised that my mom had said these things.
"I do hope they get pregnant," she explained, "because they have something missing in their lives, and they think a baby would help, but then when they get a baby, they'll still have something missing, you know what I mean?"
I knew what she meant. It amazes me, now, to think that we actually thought this way. We thought it would be best for her if she was dissatisfied in life.
A few months later, Connie was fired. Her position was supposedly cut.
"I hope she consults a lawyer," my mom said. "If she thinks it was because she was a lesbian, she could get compensated for that."
I thought it was because of that, and I still do. I didn't think it was fair, though I must admit that because I believed she was sinning, at the time, that I don't now think I had enough empathy.
We live in one of the relatively few states (Oregon) where employers are not allowed to discriminate based on sexual orientation. But how do you prove that it was because of that? The only practical effect of the law is that employers have to find an acceptable excuse, and can't mention sexual orientation.
And what to do when it's another government--a Native American tribe--and essentially another country? Is the fact that they receive federal funding sufficient grounds to make them not discriminate? Or are they truly sovereign? I have so many questions, but I'm afraid to bother the Lambda Legal people about something that happened ten years ago and doesn't affect me personally.
Connie didn't pursue legal action, as far as I know.
A lot has changed in ten years, with my mom and me, too. I am glad that we're both out of that desperate, evangelical Christian funk. My mom says she wished that she had saved her money and not sent me to Christian school in the early years. She has even said that if she could sue them and get her money back, she would do it!
Even though I knew that that school was full of unhappy hypocrites, the effects of five years at that "normal," mainstream, Protestant Christian school made me miserable for years afterward. I know I would have loved to embrace LGBTQ rights, if I wasn't so worried about getting close to God and not going to hell for agreeing with "sin." I was uneasy about a lot of things, in those days.
A lot has changed in ten years, with a small majority (about two-thirds) of Americans now being for marriage equality (from what I've read), so I know that my mother and I were not the only ones who have changed. I can only hope that this trend continues, because other than what's right, I know firsthand the fear that people who are against marriage equality (and other LGBTQ rights) feel--fear that God will be angry and forsake or punish America, fear that everything will change and they won't know how to react to it, fear that they will end up agreeing with LGBTQ people and then go to hell for it, etc.
I wish I could lighten people's burdens on this subject (for so many reasons!), but when people are fearing for their souls, they are not going to listen to even fellow believers, at least not at first. (I have to fight them any way I can, though, when I encounter them, because I don't want them to hurt other people.) For some people, the only thing that works, if anything actually will work, is time.
Or, well, um...death. Which I suppose is a side effect of time...

My Family

 This is an old post, that I forgot to publish. It was written right after the shooting at my school, Umpqua Community College. It's just some miscellaneous thoughts about my evangelical relatives.

At a family reunion recently, I sat on the floor, and my second cousin's two-year-old grandson started sharing his grapes with me--literally, the same grapes. He was biting grapes in half and putting the pieces directly into my mouth. It brought him such apparent joy to feed the hungry, that I figured I could take immune system supplements later. He kept saying, "apple, apple," while doing it. That's close enough, I guess.

My cousin, whom I call Blue-Butt, was there.
"Hey, Blue!" I almost said, excitedly, "You know your favorite teacher's getting married?! He just proposed to his boyfriend a few days ago--on the boyfriend's birthday!"
I almost said this, because I'm now friends with his favorite high school teacher on Facebook. But then I remembered that I was neck-deep in evangelicals sharing my DNA, so I decided not to say anything. At least not then.

I had a terrifying nightmare the other night, probably because of the recent shooting. I dreamed that my youngest cousin, Red-Butt, had cancer, and wasn't doing anything to get better or start treatments.
"Yeah, I smoke about eight or nine packs of cigarettes a day," he said casually, blowing out a stream of smoke.
I am not sure that that's even possible. Is it physically possible to smoke eight or nine packs of cigarettes a day? It's not like I want to try it.
I woke up terrified, even though Red has never smoked in his life, as far as I know. And the only thing he's done to purposefully harm himself, to my knowledge, was waxing his legs with duct tape and screaming like a little girl to get attention. Twice.
The closest thing he's done to smoking, that I know of, was buy a pack when he turned eighteen and give them to a homeless person. He specifically said that that was what he wanted to do: Buy a pack of cigarettes and give them to a homeless person.
I looked at him closely at the family reunion. He didn't appear to be in ill health. It must have been the shooting that gave me nightmares.

My Late Great Aunt's two daughters were here from another state (I call her my Late Great Aunt because she was really into the end times, and it wouldn't surprise me if she read or watched Hal Lindsey). They inevitably started talking about her literal "last days."
"She was doing that bible study, and they were doing Revelations next. She really wanted to do Revelations. And I was just saying, she doesn't need to do that, because now she's living it. She has all the answers now," one of them said.
Or she could just not know anything anymore, I thought. I hoped I was wrong, somehow, but I found it sad that so many people were counting on an afterlife that may not exist. I was silent, and my extended family does not know that I seriously doubt, at least sometimes, whether there is an afterlife or a god.
"I knew she wouldn't want us to resuscitate her. She had everything planned for her own funeral. She had picked out her favorite hymns, and we had a church service right there. We had an alter call, because that's what she would have wanted. Three people came to the Lord at that service. You should watch the DVD," my relative went on.
It felt weird, hearing about something that would have warmed my heart twelve years ago, but which I now found tragic. Why would anyone need to "come to the Lord" unless they were believed to be in danger of hell? My LGA had the sunniest disposition, and maybe the fewest reasons to have one, of anyone I had ever met.
I guess she never thought of the implications of her scary End Times/hellfire-and-brimstone beliefs. Either that, or the thought of other people perishing in hell just didn't drag her down. I guess you've always got to look on the positive side of things.
I feel rather snarky, when thinking about that, but I really do love her. She was so very nice. And I hope she's at peace, and living on, somehow. But sometimes, my family makes me sad, when they don't wish to fight for the one life they know they have. I guess that's what they've got me for, to nag them. That's something, I guess. 

The Other Question Homophobes Don't Want To Answer

A few weeks ago, I talked about homophobic Christians who wanted to sentence gay people to a lifetime of loneliness and celibacy, while they themselves wanted marriage and sex. I found out that they don't like it when I say, "If it bothers you that gay people do not commit to lifelong celibacy, then I invite you to lead by example."
They either try to ignore it and argue other points, in which case I force them to answer me, threatening to stop engaging with them if they don't--or the conversation ends right there! I have never had a homophobic person answer my challenge, unless I forced them to do it. Much less actually commit to lifelong celibacy. One guy threw a fit and left, and another guy in the same conversation quietly dropped out, not wanting what I was serving to his buddy.
But I have recently found yet another question, that is like Homophobe Repellent in a can. And it really surprised me. I thought for sure that it would be a very easy one to answer, even if they were saying, "Yes, of course! But I'm still right!"
But I've trotted it out a few times, and have never gotten a response to it. When I tried to force one guy to answer it, he left, and I haven't heard from him in almost a whole day--very unusual for him. He seems to have left the conversation.
This question is, "Are you open to God's leading, in case you are wrong on this issue?"
I thought this would be simple, a no-brainer. I always said, when arguing "as" a gay Christian (and yes, I know this blog's web address has the word "atheist" in the title, but it's complicated, and I don't feel like I'm lying), "I am open to God's leading, if I am wrong. Are YOU open to God's leading, in case you are wrong?"
And apparently, they are not.
Now, I honestly don't know what I would do, if I found out God was in fact anti-gay. But I think that would be morally wrong, no matter who did it. It is wrong to throw people in hell for something that harms no one and actually brings a lot of love and joy to millions of people--including the children who would not exist (surrogates) or not have a home otherwise (adoption).
 I know that the "right" thing would be to defy God, even if it meant hell. But I don't know what I'd actually do. But regardless of that conflict, I do want to know the truth, whatever it is.
And these people apparently don't. I get no answer at all, not even one in which they say yes, but then tell me how right they are.
I hope that this is a good sign. I hope that this means that I'm making them think. But I can't know for sure.
I like to say, "If you think you can't be wrong, then you might as well call yourself God and worship yourself." No one is perfect but God, after all. I've never gotten any response to this statement, either.

I'm going to try to figure out why they don't answer me. But how to do that? They may not give me an honest answer, or any answer. And I'm not sure I should press it, if I am making them think.
When I was trying so hard to get close to God, I prayed almost constantly, "God, just show me the truth, whatever it is." I always liked to ask, "What if God/the bible/Christianity/Jesus is actually like this...?" I always wondered what pastors or evangelicals got wrong, and if they were wrong on big and small issues. I thought it was terrible to not try to find out whatever was the truth, in spite of your own traditions and biases.
I guess that was rare. Of course I thought I could be sinning by asking too many questions, but I hoped God would understand that I was just trying to find the truth.
I'm still just trying to find the truth, and I will never stop searching, no matter how certain I feel that I've found it. Life is a constant learning process, and if you don't learn, you will stagnate. I think that's true of one's spiritual life as well, if one has a spiritual life.
And I trust that if God is real, and he or she is good, that they will know that I'm just trying to find the truth, and to love others and not hurt them. I trust God more than most conservative Christians I've encountered, in fact. :)

The Little Gay Girl In Christian School

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.

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.

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! :)

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..."

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.

Umpqua: The Gay-Straight Alliance Is Full Of Potheads

So recreational marijuana use is legal in Oregon now, and though it's still in kind of an uneasy gray area, there are now four or five pot stores in Douglas County, that I've seen. A Black Friday ad for a store in Roseburg, our biggest city, even recently advertised a "Free Four Foot Bong" as a door prize.
 I'm not sure what percentage of local residents partake of it, though I haven't and I thought most others hadn't. Until I had a rather amusing and interesting awakening a few months ago at a meeting of the Umpqua Community College Gay-Straight Alliance Club. (Though the Umpqua students might be a special case, since there was a shooting there October 1st that everyone is still very shook up about.)

I walked in to find maybe six or seven others sitting in an empty classroom, having various conversations. On the blackboard, a girl had written "Free The Female Nipple," in a very pretty cursive scrawl. It was always the same girl, and she did that for every meeting. She had also made up the position of "Cannabis Officer" and gotten elected, a few weeks earlier, after inquiring whether there would be any "420 Friendly" baked goods at the next fundraiser. (It had taken me a few minutes to remember that "420" was shorthand for weed.)
As I walked in, another girl came in behind me.
"Do you have any on you?" Captain Cannabis asked the other girl eagerly.
"No, I don't carry," the friend replied, emphasizing that word. It reminded me of the way gun owners use the word "carry." People who were likely on opposite sides of the political spectrum used the exact same word, with the exact same emphasis. I thought that was rather interesting. You always know what's most important to someone when they use the word "carry" with special emphasis.
"Why make yourself a target?" she went on.
I think, though, that she was not telling the complete truth. When I had first met her the week before, she had grabbed my hand, examining it closely and measuring it against hers. "You're so dainty!" she declared, fascinated. My hands are small, but I don't think they're that interesting.
It reminds me of the old cliche that someone who is high will be fascinated by their own hand. I guess extremely extroverted people are fascinated by other people's hands. She might not have been carrying because she had just used it up.
Another guy nodded in agreement. "Yeah, just get out of school, get your homework done, and then..."
"Oh, no, I always write my papers while high!" yet another dude chimed in.
"There's a picture of Ruby Rose topless," a trans guy, whom I'll call Adam, said, showing me on his phone. "I LOVE Ruby Rose!"
I may lose readers for this, but I don't care for Ruby Rose. Tattoos and an accent are treated as sexiness cheat codes nowadays, which is rather lazy, if you ask me. But I kept my opinions to myself, since the rest of the world goes crazy for her.
"But if any of you bind with ACE bandages, I will hurt you!" he exclaimed, addressing the room in general.
Someone asked why, not knowing that it's not safe, and soon Adam was lifting his shirt. The binder looked rather like a little tank top to me. The discussion of medically safe binders then turned to packers, artificial penises that one could pee out of, if you selected the right one.
 "I had one that was over three hundred dollars," Adam said. "I could pee out of it, it had erection rods so you could fuck someone, it even had erection rods inside of it, so you could get fucked while you're fucking someone! But then I tore it right between the balls and the shaft," he said in disappointment.
Apparently, the PeeCock is of shoddy quality. And apparently, you can't use it or repair it once it's been torn. Personally, if I felt the need to stuff my pants, I would have seen if I could take a hot glue gun to that thing, but I wasn't about to offer to do that for someone else's urinary prosthetic. He can glue his own package back together.
I'm also a little confused as to how one tears something like that, especially in the place that it's customarily worn in. I'll bet it had something to do with the erection rods, though I really don't want to know for sure.
Then Captain Cannabis showed us her new nipple rings, and everyone started talking about what piercings they wanted to get next and whether they would accidentally come out or not (apparently the back of the neck is a problem area).
"That sounds so painful," I remarked. "How can you guys stand it?"
"The endorphins afterword are addicting," Adam explained.
"Oh," I nodded.
This is going to be great for our image. Yes, the gays are just like everyone else, I thought, Just like straight cisgendered people, they're all a bunch of nice, friendly...weirdos. At least, if you're in Oregon. Everyone's a weirdo in Oregon.
My own weirdness is just probably not as visible. Except maybe on this blog, of course. :)

Accelerated Christian Education--Now With Gay Couples!

The local Christian school in my town had a home-schooling division, and from late elementary school on that is where my parents bought my textbooks and got my grades back. For the first few years the school gave me Accelerated Christian Education, a curriculum that was rather hokey and heavily laden with cartoons of Christian kids demonstrating specific virtues. The other kids in the cartoons would often say something like, "Thank you for being so discreet." (Yeah, I thought that was funny, too! There was also, "Ace found her shirt" when describing the genders of nouns!) Even at that age, I knew people didn't really talk like that.
How they named the characters was even worse. Pudge was the overweight kid. The "dumber" kid, to whom everyone else explained everything, and whom I presume was meant to be mentally retarded, was Happy. Everyone had last names like "Peace," "Lovejoy" and even "McMercy."
In the cartoons, there was a "black school," a "white school," and an "Asian school." There were no mixing of races in the body of Christ; they appeared to be written even before desegregation (or maybe right after, when the conservatives were still suspicious of it); in one book they taught us how to use the library's card catalog. In another, a Christian scientist was looking for a way to make food and animal fodder from soybeans (I remember thinking that that had already been done).
My favorite character was Ronny Vain, the unsaved kid. He rode a motorcycle, and was rude to the preachy Christian kids, and they just had to take it. Even at eleven, I hated the Christian school/church "system" and loved stories of people rebelling from it, though of course they eventually had to "get saved" and discover Jesus. I actually thought that He could be separated from his own system at the time, and tried to separate Him without success.
Most fucked up, probably, was the series in seventh-grade science focusing on health, specifically the sex ed book.
As I remember it, they showed the internal organs of a deer, not a human. "The waste is expelled out of the vent, or anus."
Then Racer started talking about sexual purity and marriage, first to his parents, then his grandparents. In the most disturbing scene probably in that whole series, he sits at the table eating lunch, talking with his grandpa, and his grandma is nearby, nodding and smiling. He mentions that he has been learning about sexual purity and marriage at school.
His grandpa replied, "That's right, Racer. Every part of our marriage--even the sexual part--is intended to glorify God. It's a reflection of the relationship between Christ and the Church."
And here we learn that Racer's grandparents are still sexually active. I imagine that grandfather saying, "Come on, honey, let's fuck for Jesus. He's watching, you know."
I remember they also once tried to make a case, using Biblical root-words, that voting "right" was God's will and voting "left" was evil.
Though I was really trying to be a good Christian at the time, I hated being spoon-fed my religion. My mother had always tried to be "discerning," or find her own way in her "walk with God," and encouraged me to do the same. I was proud of reading the bible for myself and having my own opinions and beliefs. I once remarked to my mother, "They think we're stupid."
And remember that all of this looked ridiculous to me when I was a Christian. I remember all of this because of the extraordinary stupidity that was blatantly obvious even to someone desperately trying to be a good Christian. It was actually quite frustrating.
So now I'm trying to make it less stupid. I have what is, to my knowledge, the very first Accelerated Christian Education fanfiction on the internet. And Pudge and Ronny are a gay couple.
I plan to make their relationship a mixed one, with Pudge being a Christian and Ronny not being one. There are also a few side plots about interracial couples, disabled and older gay people, and masturbating housewives. I'm having a lot of fun with all of it, though Pronny is the main focus. I will also never say that it has "adult content," no matter how sexual it may get, since the kids trapped in the ACE schools and homeschooled with ACE materials deserve a bit of fun at ACE's expense.