Intuition

My husband and I were separated for the better part of 2012. During that time I lived about twenty miles away in a different county. When we separated, it was right in the middle of the school year. Not wanting to put my kids through anymore drastic changes, they stayed with my husband during the week for school, and then they would spend the weekends with me. It was difficult being away from them, and I was terribly lonely.

In my new neighborhood, I was the only single woman. There were families and there were single men, but no other single women. The women in the neighborhood had an automatic disdain for me until they learned that I was, in fact, a lovely person. Not only was I lovely, but I had no intentions on having torrid affairs with their husbands.

I was friendly to everyone in the neighborhood (it was something like a cul de sac, but not quite), but I never quite made friends with any of them. I would sometimes stop and have brief conversations, but no one invited into their homes for tea and vice versa.

One day, when my kids weren't there and I was all alone, my next door neighbor, a single man who lived alone with his dog, struck up a conversation with me as I walked to my car. Now this is a guy who had given me the creeps since I moved in. I try not to judge people in general, but the energy signature this guy exuded made me nervous. Up until this moment, he and I had barely spoken a word to each other outside of "hello."

He started to tell me about his aquarium, and all the fish that he had in there. I politely nodded, but really, I just wanted to go to my car and leave. At some point in the conversation, he asked, "You haven't seen it?" Of course, I hadn't seen it and he knew that. Remember, this was the longest conversation we'd had thus far. I said no. "Come on," he said. "I'll show you."

At that moment, every single hair on the back of my neck stood up. I felt an intense sense of fear as I hesitantly said, "OK." I followed him up his walkway toward his home. As I did so, I looked around to see if anyone else was around. This was a neighborhood that was always bustling with activity, but not today. There wasn't one person outside or, as far as I could tell, even looking out a window. Where the hell were the nosy neighbors when you needed them?

Against my better judgement, because I didn't want to hurt his feelings, I followed him into his house. I'll let that sink in for a minute. I followed a man I didn't know or trust into his home when no one was around to witness it. Because I didn't want to appear impolite.

When I walked into his home, my nose was assaulted by the foulest stench you could imagine. To this day, I couldn't tell you what it was. His house was filthy, it smelled horrible, and his fish were swimming around in cloudy water. The water looked like he hadn't ever changed it. Luckily, the fish tank was right off the kitchen area, which wasn't that far from the front door. Even luckier was the fact that he didn't try to hurt me or otherwise take me prisoner in his filthy home.

I said, "Oh, yeah. Those fish are really nice." Then I power walked out of his house. The reasons? Eight percent so I wouldn't get sick from the smell, seven percent because I was still uncomfortable, and 85 percent because I didn't want to take my last breath in a place like that. You know how, in the movies, a person will be close to death and they say, 'it can't end like this, not here?' Yeah...I was having that exact inner dialogue.

I made it out safely, but the moral of this story is to always trust your intuition, even if it means you must be impolite to others. Even if others will think you're a bitch for doing it. Trust your intuition.
Ted Bundy killed many women because he made them feel sorry for him. Even though their intuition was probably screaming at them to walk away, they couldn't say no to an injured man. It cost them their lives. This could have easily been the case for me. Every time I think of this story, I get chills at the thought of what might have happened had this guy been a different person. Think about it with me: I lived alone for the most part, so no one would have noticed my absence for at least a work week. No one was around to see me enter his home, so there would be no clues as to where one might start looking for me. I would have been one of those people who seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. My family would have spent the last four years wondering where I was and what happened to me. My children might have believed that I abandoned them. And all because I was afraid to be impolite.

Women are taught to be polite to a fault. If we don't, people will label us as bitches. And oh my God, we can't have that, can we? People will think I'm a mean person, so I must risk my safety in order to avoid offending anyone.

We have to stop that. Listen to your inner voice. You instinctively know if something is bad for you. You can sense a bad vibe. Even if you have no evidence to support your instinct, listen to it anyway. For instance, my neighbor didn't do anything to hurt me, but that doesn't mean my intuition was wrong. What if he lost his nerve? What if he wasn't expecting me to turn around and walk back out so fast? I could have thrown him off, or he could have tripped when he turned around to catch me. Maybe I slipped right through his fingers.

I'm not saying you should stop trusting people; I just want you (and me!) to listen to your intuition. It exists for a reason. Humans are the only beings that will ignore their instincts. If a gazelle senses a lion stalking it in the jungle, it doesn't say 'I'm not going to run because I don't want to hurt the lion's feelings.' To the contrary, it runs like hell and doesn't stop until the danger is gone or it gets caught. But at least it tries to save itself.

That's all I'm asking you to do. Save yourself. You're worth saving.

Until next time,

Feed on love; subsist on peace.

Breaking the Pattern

Good day, friends.

It's been awhile since we've spoken. Some of you have, no doubt, moved on to bigger and better things. Congratulations! You absolutely deserve it. Me? Well, I've been doing the same things I'd spoken to you about before I last left you. I'm one course and a dissertation away from getting my doctoral degree in Metaphysical Humanistic Science. That means I'm one step closer to what I believe is my true purpose in this lifetime.

I didn't come here to talk about me, though. Well, not just me.

Today, I found myself in a funk. Something happened in my life that upset me so much that I wanted to revert to some old habits. One of my go-to old habits was emotional eating. The pattern was: let someone upset me > completely disregard any progress I've made > eat everything in sight. I would tell myself, in that moment, that I didn't care whether I got fat or not. Who cares that I feel better when I eat better? Who cares that I don't have bouts of IBS when I don't eat meat? (TMI, I know) Who cares? There I was: all prepared to eat healthy snacks and a healthy lunch, but in that moment, all I wanted... was cake. Or pie. Or Doritos. Or, God help me, McDonald's fries.

If I followed the old pattern, I would be upset in the moment, I would eat everything and then afterward, the next moment, I would feel horrible. In the next moment I would care, but by then, it was too late. On top of being upset by whatever  had triggered my binge-eating, I would then also be upset with myself for the binge-eating I'd done. My self-esteem would dip really low; and the cycle would continue.

Not today, though. Today, I saw that old, ugly pattern breaking through the surface and I recognized it for what it was. I asked myself, why am I letting someone else control how I feel about myself? If you think about it, that's exactly what was happening. I allowed someone to upset me (that was my first mistake), I then internalized that pain as something that I deserved to feel, then I turned that pain against myself, which would have manifested as an eating binge. Sure, I know that people can take you to horrible, emotional places. I recognize that we are human, and we will sometimes not be in a place to handle emotional warfare. I get it. But I also get that once you let someone anger or upset you, you have handed over your power to them. You're essentially saying, "Here, you control me for a little while."

Now, everyone who's read this blog even once, probably knows that I have control issues. Trust me, I'm working on it, but it's an on-going process as you well know. The fact that I have issues giving others control is the very thing that should stop me from handing control of my emotions to anyone, especially people who have no impact on my existence.

So, I came here today to ask you, to implore you to take your power back. Ask yourself if you're letting others control how you feel about you. It's called self- esteem for a reason. The only person impacting it should be you. When someone upsets you, when you're experiencing emotional difficulty, acknowledge your feelings in this moment, then do what you need to do to get to the next moment. And once you get to the next moment, do something to nurture yourself so that you maintain your progress, your sanity, your self-love. What you do in that next moment could change the course of your life. Or it could keep you stagnant in old habits that you wished you'd given up a long time ago.

What did I do? I reached into the fridge for my carrot sticks and hummus. And I didn't hate myself afterward.

Until next time,

Feed on love, subsist on peace.

Happy New Year.

Perfect

If you follow me on Twitter or if you're one of my Facebook friends, you know how much I love this song. I've included the clean version here because some followers of this blog may or may not be offended by the uncut version. Both of my personalities like this clean version, but on the other hand, we both feel the uncut version.

I was watching a Tivo'd episode of Oprah recently and she said something that I have always said to people, but just not as eloquently as she. She said that we "teach what we most need to learn." My sister and I have conversations to that effect all the time. I do it all the time right here on this blog. It's easy for me to tell you what to do to feel good about yourselves. It's easy to drill into your heads that your are perfect just the way you are. It's easy because I know, logically, how this thing called life is supposed to be done. What's not easy is doing it. The phrase "easier said than done" applies here.

You know how sometimes when you're talking to your friend about a problem she may have and the solution seems so obvious to you that you can't understand why she can't see it herself? I mean, it's right there in front of her face. Why can't she see it? She sees it. However, it's far less painful to pretend she has no clue than it is to resolve the issue. I don't know about you, but I do that all the time.

Here's the thing: I know me. I'm aware of all my issues. One of the things I know is that my cursing so much is a defense mechanism. It says to people, "That is the wrong woman to mess with. Don't try to take advantage of her or otherwise get on her bad side because things will not go well for you." I know that I developed this defense mechanism as a result of not feeling protected as a child. I had so many horrible things happen to me and I would wonder why no one would come to my defense. No one brought food to my siblings and me when our mother disappeared for days at a time. No one objected when she sold me to a man for drug money. No one stopped the man in the stairwell from trying to rape me when I was six-years-old; I stopped him myself. I kicked and scratched...and I screamed curse words at him...until he let me up off the concrete floor. I knew what he wanted to do to me and I was damned sick of being a victim. At six. That's when I learned that cursing can make people leave you alone. Kicking and scratching don't hurt, either.

I didn't know why my mother didn't love me and the only reason I could think of why God didn't love me was that I was a bad girl. I was bad and that was why bad things always happened to me. That was why God let them happen.

I spent a large portion of my life trying to make up for being bad. I let people take advantage of me and treat me unkindly. I was fully aware of what they were doing, I just wanted to redeem myself in the eyes of God. I had to somehow get back into His good graces. People called me names, I said nothing. Some would physically attack me, I didn't retaliate. Others betrayed me, and though I was hurt, I let them get away with it. You see, I felt I deserved their mistreatment and hatred. Because I was a bad girl. I was a bad person.

Then, one day I got pissed. I tell you today that nothing cures despair like anger. Don't ever let anyone tell you that anger is counterproductive because it definitely is not. All emotions serve a purpose. This post is not about anger, so I will tell you about channeling it properly some other time. Right now I want to tell you about how getting angry repaired my broken spirit. At least that's what I thought at the time.

I thought, "Why the hell don't I deserve to be protected? What makes me so evil that the whole world can dump all over me without consequences?" I didn't remember doing anything that would warrant God's hatred, so I had had enough. I went from the extreme of being a doormat to the extreme of being in constant-anger mode. But again, we'll talk about that in a future post.

Even after I learned to calm myself and be a little more peaceful, I still had this one issue that wouldn't go away: I was fat. It was more than that, though. I would gain weight, be horrified by my reflection in the mirror, then lose weight. Lather, rinse, repeat as needed. I used to think that I had a love/hate relationship with food, as in: I love it, it loves me, and I hate that it loves me so damned much because it has a tendency to stick around long after I'm done savoring its deliciousness. I've realized, later than I would have hoped, that my love/hate relationship is with myself. I absolutely love to hate myself. I've become quite good at it, too. I call myself names, I physically attack myself (in the forms of overeating and other self-abuse), I betray my own sense of self-worth by doing things that make me feel horrible about myself. Does any of this sound familiar?

Why do I do this to myself?

Because somewhere, not so deep down inside myself, I still think I'm a bad girl. I still think I deserve to be mistreated only I've made it clear to others that they can't do it. So who does that leave to treat me like dirt?

Me.

Isn't that something? I've fought most of my life to be respected and here I am disrespecting myself. If you recognize yourself anywhere in this post, let's stop this abuse of ourselves. Let's take a stand against the one person we thought would always have our backs. Let's defend ourselves...against ourselves. Don't defeat yourself before you even begin by saying how hard this is going to be. I'm a firm believer that you can do whatever you think you can do. If you think it's going to be hard, it'll be hard; if you think it's going to be easy, it'll be easy. Let's come up with strategies and game plans as if we were facing our greatest enemy. Let's find ways to cut him off at every pass. Let's be on the offensive. Let's attack before the "enemy" gets a chance to.

I'm going to take my first step today. When I finish this post, I'm going to walk over to my dresser, pick up the bottle of diet pills that I pay $40/month for and I'm going to throw them in the trash. I'm going to continue  on the blood pressure pills I take to counteract the effects of said diet pills, but only for a month. And hopefully, once both medicines are out of my system, I can reclaim the libido that has been lost from taking the blood pressure meds. As you can see, I gave up a lot to my inner enemy; my health, my womanhood. And if that weren't enough, those pills turn you into a raging lunatic. Some of you have benefited from that lunacy on A Bitch Called Mom. I guess we'll have to see if I have any 'bitch' left in me once the diet pills are all gone.

I suspect there's plenty to spare.

"Change the voices in your head. Make them like you instead." ---P!nk

Here's to self-love, self-worth, and self-respect! Please send positive vibes, thoughts, and prayers my way and I will do the same for you.

Until next week,

Feed on love, subsist on peace.

Repost: To Thine Own Self Be True

I'm going to have to ask for your forgiveness and understanding this week. I've been (and I still am) feverishly looking for a job. It has taken up my blog-posting time for the past three days, and it shows no signs of letting up. Please wish me luck and enjoy this repost from June 2010. It was my very first post (officially), so not many of you have had the opportunity to read it and comment on it.  


There's a reason why Shakespeare was Shakespeare. The man was a genius. His writing delved into the very core of the human spirit. But I don't want to talk about Shakespeare today; I want to talk about you. I want to talk about how his powerful words, "To thine own self be true", can open the door to fulfilling your life's true purpose.

For many of you, I know, those words feel selfish. Looking out for number one feels like the rest of the world is unimportant. Nothing could be farther from the truth. All the greatest, wealthiest, most influential people in the world put themselves first. As it should be.

I'll give you another, equally dynamic quote: "If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." Now while I don't know who coined this particular phrase, I recognize that it's the same compelling sentiment. Think about it. If you give everything to others, what is left over for you? If there's nothing left over, won't you feel drained? Depleted? And ultimately, resentful? Give and give and give, and watch how fast others take and take and take. You may not have noticed by now, so I'm here to tell you that people treat you the way you treat yourself.

So I beg you; be kind to yourself. Give yourself compliments. Take note of how gorgeous you are when you stare into the mirror naked. Surround yourself with beauty and beauty will emanate from within you. Fill yourself up and you'll overflow with energy, love, and countless other marvelous things to offer the world. Respect yourself and others will respect you. Love and cherish yourself and you will attract to you people who only want to love and cherish you. If you are whole and complete, you can't help but be a better wife, husband, mother, father, daughter, son...you get the point.

Happiness begins with you. Start today. Be happy now.


Have you gained wisdom from a favorite poem or quote? Please share it with the rest of us.




Until next week,
Feed on love; subsist on peace.

Please Love Me...Again

I sat down tonight to write this week's post and, just as I started, my daughter came into my room and asked to hang out with me until her bedtime. I feel I should take advantage of this invitation because she won't want to be bothered with me a few short years from now, so I am going to take her up on her offer. In the interest of spending quality time with my soon-to-be-ten-year-old, I've decided to repost a piece that I feel more people should have taken to heart. It has been edited to reflect my feelings today, some of which are much different than my feelings at the time of the original post. What a difference four months make. I hope you enjoy it...again.

Recently I had occasion to surf the web for information about Wicca. Don't stop reading. I have no intention of trying to convert you to witchdom. I find the religion quite fascinating, though. I'm in love with knowledge and I revel at the chance to learn something new. Anyway, my husband says that if I do convert to Wicca, I'll be doing it alone. I can't imagine being a lonely old witch. Then again...the toilet seat would always be down, every room in my house wouldn't smell like the aftermath of a rotten egg explosion, and the train that runs through my bedroom every night would be on a track in a completely different state. I might have to reconsider.

In my research I found several interesting facts, one of them being the Wiccan Rede which states, "An it harm none, do as ye will." It means do as you'd like as long as your actions don't hurt anyone, including yourself. I think that's awesome. God gave us free will, but that doesn't mean the freedom to hurt each other with impunity. Any religion that discourages its members from harming themselves or others is okay by me.

What struck me as most intriguing were the FAQ pages. Every page on every website I visited, every single one, had this question: Can I cast a spell to make someone love me? A wave of sadness washed over me each time I read that question. 

Can I make someone love me? 

I was sad because I've known that inconsolable urgency for somebody, anybody to love me. In fact, I've always had a penchant for things I can't or shouldn't  have, especially men. When a person constantly pursues unavailable men or women, some would say that he/she has commitment issues. I don't know about that, but I do know this: when you tell me I can't have something, I feel a deep sense of deprivation. I feel like I've been told that I can't live or breathe or consume chocolate. I want it more; I need it more. That's an instinct I believe most of us share. If you're deprived of oxygen, watch how your body struggles to get it with frantic desperation. You need it or you will surely die, so you fight that much harder to get it. 

I'll give you a pass on the basic necessities of water, food, shelter and air, but the rest of it has got to end. Not only is it a vicious, counterproductive cycle, it's almost irreparably damaging to your self-esteem. Why would you want a person who had to be forced to love you? Every time you think you're in love, you'll realize it's a lie. Every time you see a couple who is truly committed to each other, you'll wish you had what they have. 

Why have make-believe happiness when you could have actual happiness? 

You deserve a partner who loves you of his/her own free will because you are wonderful, kind, generous, loving, appreciative, funny and most of all, satisfied with the person you are. If you were your best self (thanks Oprah), would you choose the same person or would you choose someone who was in awe of the wonder that is you? And one last question, if the shoe were on the other foot, would you like to be forced into an imitation love? I think not. 

Think about what it might be inside of you that makes you desperate for something you can't have. Maybe it's a control issue. God knows I know about those. Maybe it's a daddy issue. Been there, wrote the novel, went back again. Whatever it is, you'll continue to chase dreams (and men and food and friends and possessions) you should not have until you deal with it. That's how things work on this wonderful plane of existence. The things you cannot have are the things you should...not...have. The things that are not good for you. The things that will not serve you well.

No one wants to be alone. I understand that. Being one half of a couple can be a mind-numbingly amazing experience IF it is a mutually agreed upon venture. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." That one's from the Bible.

By the way, the Wiccan's answer to that question is no. You're not supposed to manipulate, dominate, or otherwise control another person. I think that's pretty awesome, too.

If you would like more information on this or any other religion, go to www.religioustolerance.org. Tell them I sent you. They don't know who I am or anything, but if enough people do this, they will.  ;)

Until next week,

Feed on love; subsist on peace.

I've Gotta Be Me

When my husband and I were first married, I made it my mission to be the perfect wife and mother. We were young, our first son had just been born, and we decided that the best thing for him would be if I was a Stay At Home Mom. Not having been raised in a "traditional" household with a mother, father, two point five kids, and a dog, the only way I could garner how to do that was from watching TV.

Don't you just love TV moms? Their homes are immaculate, their meals are always delicious, their children are well-behaved, their lawns are manicured, their thumbs are green. They are perfect hostesses, they don't mind if their husbands bring home a guest for dinner without notification, their spouses work crazy long hours and they don't mind. They help with homework, dole out motherly love and advice, drive the soccer team to every game. They have endless supplies of energy, they're always in the mood for sex, and they do all of this while looking remarkably put-together.

Can you imagine trying to keep up this frenetic pace and maintain your sanity? I tried. For the first five years of my marriage, I tried to be everything to my husband and son. Then one day when I wasn't paying attention, resentment started to creep in. This isn't me, I thought. I'm a fun-loving extrovert. I like to meet new people and try new things. I like to spend time with my friends laughing and talking about grown-up things. I like to go to concerts and clubs and dinner parties. I like to shop for things other than food, household items, and toddler clothes. I like to get my hair done by professionals. I enjoy manicures and pedicures.

I liked doing things for me.

But who the hell was this 'me' person and why was she popping up after all these years? I'd gone from an eccentric people lover to an isolated home body. In short, I'd turned into the female version of my husband. My hubby didn't like going out and meeting new people; it just wasn't his thing.  He was perfectly happy going to work everyday, coming home to a hot meal, and staying in to watch a movie with his wife and son. Because I loved him so, I was content to do whatever made him happy...at first.

Let me interrupt the remainder of this post to say that this was not my husband's fault. I was so determined to be the real life incarnation of Carol Brady, that I forgot to be me. And boy, did I hate DH for that. I resented him and blamed him for turning my whole life into something totally different than I had planned it to be. I hadn't planned on getting pregnant the first semester I re-enrolled in college. I planned on getting my B.A. in Psychology and enrolling in grad school. I planned on earning my doctorate and moving to Hollywood to be a shrink to the stars. I planned on writing best-selling books on how to be happy even if everything in your life says you shouldn't be. I planned on traveling the world and buying homes on Waikiki and in the South of France. I never planned to have any children.

Why do we do that? Why do we make someone else's happiness a priority over our own? I think that somewhere in the midst of society's portrayals of who we should be, some of us forgot to just be ourselves; the selves we were created to be. It is possible to love yourself and still be a good wife. It is possible to be happy with who you are as a person and still be a good mother. Who cares if your house is a little messy? If people don't like your messy home, they don't have to visit. If they don't like your cooking, they can take you out to dinner. If they don't like your parenting skills, they can mind their own damned business.

You can deny who you are just to be with someone or to make that someone happy or comfortable, but you can't do it for long. One day the real you will burst from the depths of your being and refuse to be denied any longer. Save yourself the wasted time, the miserable years and be happy now. Be you now. It is absolutely possible to strike a balance between who you are and whom you aspire to be. Trust me when I tell you that both you and those you love will be a lot better off in the long run.

As for DH and I, we separated for a brief period when I was attempting to find myself again. Let's just say that when we reunited, things were very different.

And we're still together.

Until next week,
Feed on love; subsist on peace.

Enough Is Enough

This is a repost from Thursday. I wanted to make sure I got the correct thumbnail to attach to the FB page. Posting it again seemed to be the only way to do it. ♥



How many times have I told you that you are perfect just as you are? That you are enough? More times than you can count, I'm sure. During this time of the year when everyone is concentrating on family and being thankful for the blessings they've already been granted, I think it's appropriate to be thankful for you.

I've recently reconnected with a very dear friend on Facebook. Say what you want about Facebook, if you can't do anything else, you can find people with whom you've lost contact. You can reseal those broken bonds. My friend and I were troublemakers, although we didn't think so at the time. We had a knack for asking the hard questions and making people think for themselves. Consequently, the grown-ups were both furious and secretly proud of us at the same time. Our pastor hated to look out into the audience at Bible Study and see us sitting there. He knew that it was going to be a long night.

When she 'came out' as a lesbian, she drifted away from our home church; I had already left. I put 'came out' in quotes because I already knew; I was simply waiting for her to catch up. Suddenly, the strict ideals of a conservative church didn't fit into the life of a woman who had just discovered she was someone that was frowned upon.

You know what? I'm not doing her story any justice. I'll just let her tell you herself. Ladies and gentleman, my literal definition of best friend forever, Tawanna Sullivan.

Sufficient As I Am

by Tawanna Sullivan

Born and raised a Baptist, I was deeply involved with the church for the first nineteen years of my life. I spent an average of three days a week there: regular Sunday services, Wednesday night Bible Study, and youth/young adult activities on Saturday.

I was a Christian by rote. I could recite the books of the Bible and had memorized lots of verses, but didn’t really think about what I was learning. That began to change one Sunday morning with a discussion in Young Adult Sunday School class. Rev. Sam, the Youth/Young Adult pastor, asked, “What would you do if you were or had gotten someone else pregnant?”

There were about fifteen of us in the room and, like Stepford children, all of us just recited the correct answer. “Well, the right thing to do is marry the mother/father of my child.”

Then, the reverend threw us a curve ball. “What if you didn’t love or even like the mother/father of the baby? What if getting married to this person would be like entering a living hell?” I thought about it for a moment. “Don’t you still have to get married? If it’s a bad marriage aren’t you just suffering the consequences of your own sin?” Even as I said it, I knew it was a weak argument.

Rev. Sam drove his point home. “Do you really believe that a kind, loving God would want you to enter a loveless, lifeless marriage? Can you fix a situation by creating a worse one? Would that be good for you? For the baby? What society, your parents, or even your pastor tells you to do does not always reflect God’s will for your life.”

Those words rocked the foundation of my 16-year-old existence. It was the first time anyone had ever challenged me to examine my beliefs. Before when I encountered doctrine that I thought was strange, I glossed over it. After this Sunday School lesson I stopped mindlessly absorbing sermons and religious teachings and started really thinking about what I was hearing. I began sorting through my own thoughts and ideas. “Do I believe this because I really believe it or because it’s been drilled into my head as the truth?”

I started reading books about religion and spirituality. I began to understand the difference between trying to “be good” because you don’t want to go to Hell and doing the right thing solely because you genuinely believe it is right. When you are motivated by fear (of God, Hell, etc.), it’s easy to feel insecure and miserable. (If I slip and fall on a patch of ice, is it because God is getting me back for some recent, perhaps unintentional, sin?)

If I were in a relationship with a human being that was controlling and manipulative, I would be trying to find a way out. It is definitely not the kind of relationship I wanted to have with God. I continued reading about other religious beliefs. I was not looking to convert to a completely new ideology, but I wanted to explore how others viewed their relationship with God.

At 19, when I finally realized that I was a lesbian, I had already figured out that gays and lesbians were not horrible creatures despised by God. Two facts led me to this conclusion. I had re-examined the Sodom and Gomorrah story and couldn’t see how anyone could use it as an argument against homosexuality. When the people of the village demanded to have Lot’s visitors turned over to them, Lot’s response was, “Leave those men alone, but you can sexually molest my daughters if you want.” Yes, this is the only righteous man in town. Lot gets away free while his wife is turned into a pillar of salt for daring to look back. So God hates homosexuals but Lot’s treatment of his daughters is fine—the story just does not sound right to me.

Also, though my pastor preached that homosexuality was unnatural, I never thought of it that way. Unnatural means something that is forced, something that did not occur normally. My attraction to women is something that developed naturally and normally. It’s not as if I was attracted to men but had somehow “trained” myself to want women. Loving women is just as normal as having brown skin. It’s not something that I chose but part of who I am. In short, I didn’t have a problem with being gay and God didn’t have a problem with it either.

Though I was growing more secure with my relationship with God, I was not sure about my relationship with the church. The most visible gay people there were in the choir. Though people whispered about them, no one would come right out and accuse them of being gay. At the same time, these men, no matter how many gaydar alarms they set off, pretended to be straight. They dare not acknowledge a lover inside the church. Once in a while, one would bring a female friend to church and introduce her as a “fiancee”; I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for a wedding. When the pastor or some other church member started talking about “those people,” they pretended not to hear.

If I wanted to stay a part of the church, I would have to leave my lesbian self at the door. Could I? Did I want to do that? Am I really in spiritual fellowship with people if I can’t be my true, one hundred percent self? If my church family doesn’t accept me fully and completely, is it really my family?

At the time I was pondering this, I came across Walt Whitman’s “One Hour to Madness and Joy.” This poem really resonated with me. It talks about escaping from the molds that other people cast for you and realizing that you are sufficient as you are. Forget the expectations of others and live your life. If I wanted to be happy (and I did), there was only one choice: I had to let the church go.

Most of my friends and social activities had been through the church, but it was not hard to fill that void. I found new friends, started learning more about myself, and exploring the world around me. I had a new life and, after a few more years, a completely new concept of God.

For me, God is a positive, life-affirming spiritual force that we all have a link to via our souls. Think of an octopus-like creature but with an infinite number of arms, each arm attached to one of us. God is not concerned about your religious affiliation, but about the content of your heart. Since you can control the content of your heart, you ultimately are the one who determines the degree and intensity of that relationship. For example, if you are filled with rage and hatred, how can you then be open to receiving that life-affirming, loving spirit? You have to be willing to let go of negative, soul-sapping obstacles.

This spiritual link to God also links us to each other. I can’t cut myself off from you and not somehow obstruct my relationship with God. This doesn’t mean that we have to love or like each other, but I have to respect you as a fellow being and treat you with compassion.

In my view, it does not matter what religious beliefs you hold—as long as those beliefs do not actually put stumbling blocks in your spiritual path. More importantly, you can’t let other people dictate what your relationship with God is going to be.

Copyright © 2001

Until next week,

Feed on love; subsist on peace

Enough

How many times have I told you that you are perfect just as you are? That you are enough? More times than you can count, I'm sure. During this time of the year when everyone is concentrating on family and being thankful for the blessings they've already been granted, I think it's appropriate to be thankful for you.

I've recently reconnected with a very dear friend on Facebook. Say what you want about Facebook, if you can't do anything else, you can find people with whom you've lost contact. You can reseal those broken bonds. My friend and I were troublemakers, although we didn't think so at the time. We had a knack for asking the hard questions and making people think for themselves. Consequently, the grown-ups were both furious and secretly proud of us at the same time. Our pastor hated to look out into the audience at Bible Study and see us sitting there. He knew that it was going to be a long night.

When she 'came out' as a lesbian, she drifted away from our home church; I had already left. I put 'came out' in quotes because I already knew; I was simply waiting for her to catch up. Suddenly, the strict ideals of a conservative church didn't fit into the life of a woman who had just discovered she was someone that was frowned upon.

You know what? I'm not doing her story any justice. I'll just let her tell you herself. Ladies and gentleman, my literal definition of best friend forever, Tawanna Sullivan.


Sufficient As I Am
by Tawanna Sullivan


Born and raised a Baptist, I was deeply involved with the church for the first nineteen years of my life. I spent an average of three days a week there: regular Sunday services, Wednesday night Bible Study, and youth/young adult activities on Saturday.

I was a Christian by rote. I could recite the books of the Bible and had memorized lots of verses, but didn’t really think about what I was learning. That began to change one Sunday morning with a discussion in Young Adult Sunday School class. Rev. Sam, the Youth/Young Adult pastor, asked, “What would you do if you were or had gotten someone else pregnant?”

There were about fifteen of us in the room and, like Stepford children, all of us just recited the correct answer. “Well, the right thing to do is marry the mother/father of my child.”

Then, the reverend threw us a curve ball. “What if you didn’t love or even like the mother/father of the baby? What if getting married to this person would be like entering a living hell?” I thought about it for a moment. “Don’t you still have to get married? If it’s a bad marriage aren’t you just suffering the consequences of your own sin?” Even as I said it, I knew it was a weak argument.

Rev. Sam drove his point home. “Do you really believe that a kind, loving God would want you to enter a loveless, lifeless marriage? Can you fix a situation by creating a worse one? Would that be good for you? For the baby? What society, your parents, or even your pastor tells you to do does not always reflect God’s will for your life.”

Those words rocked the foundation of my 16-year-old existence. It was the first time anyone had ever challenged me to examine my beliefs. Before when I encountered doctrine that I thought was strange, I glossed over it. After this Sunday School lesson I stopped mindlessly absorbing sermons and religious teachings and started really thinking about what I was hearing. I began sorting through my own thoughts and ideas. “Do I believe this because I really believe it or because it’s been drilled into my head as the truth?”

I started reading books about religion and spirituality. I began to understand the difference between trying to “be good” because you don’t want to go to Hell and doing the right thing solely because you genuinely believe it is right. When you are motivated by fear (of God, Hell, etc.), it’s easy to feel insecure and miserable. (If I slip and fall on a patch of ice, is it because God is getting me back for some recent, perhaps unintentional, sin?)

If I were in a relationship with a human being that was controlling and manipulative, I would be trying to find a way out. It is definitely not the kind of relationship I wanted to have with God. I continued reading about other religious beliefs. I was not looking to convert to a completely new ideology, but I wanted to explore how others viewed their relationship with God.

At 19, when I finally realized that I was a lesbian, I had already figured out that gays and lesbians were not horrible creatures despised by God. Two facts led me to this conclusion. I had re-examined the Sodom and Gomorrah story and couldn’t see how anyone could use it as an argument against homosexuality. When the people of the village demanded to have Lot’s visitors turned over to them, Lot’s response was, “Leave those men alone, but you can sexually molest my daughters if you want.” Yes, this is the only righteous man in town. Lot gets away free while his wife is turned into a pillar of salt for daring to look back. So God hates homosexuals but Lot’s treatment of his daughters is fine—the story just does not sound right to me.

Also, though my pastor preached that homosexuality was unnatural, I never thought of it that way. Unnatural means something that is forced, something that did not occur normally. My attraction to women is something that developed naturally and normally. It’s not as if I was attracted to men but had somehow “trained” myself to want women. Loving women is just as normal as having brown skin. It’s not something that I chose but part of who I am. In short, I didn’t have a problem with being gay and God didn’t have a problem with it either.

Though I was growing more secure with my relationship with God, I was not sure about my relationship with the church. The most visible gay people there were in the choir. Though people whispered about them, no one would come right out and accuse them of being gay. At the same time, these men, no matter how many gaydar alarms they set off, pretended to be straight. They dare not acknowledge a lover inside the church. Once in a while, one would bring a female friend to church and introduce her as a “fiancee”; I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for a wedding. When the pastor or some other church member started talking about “those people,” they pretended not to hear.

If I wanted to stay a part of the church, I would have to leave my lesbian self at the door. Could I? Did I want to do that? Am I really in spiritual fellowship with people if I can’t be my true, one hundred percent self? If my church family doesn’t accept me fully and completely, is it really my family?

At the time I was pondering this, I came across Walt Whitman’s “One Hour to Madness and Joy.” This poem really resonated with me. It talks about escaping from the molds that other people cast for you and realizing that you are sufficient as you are. Forget the expectations of others and live your life. If I wanted to be happy (and I did), there was only one choice: I had to let the church go.

Most of my friends and social activities had been through the church, but it was not hard to fill that void. I found new friends, started learning more about myself, and exploring the world around me. I had a new life and, after a few more years, a completely new concept of God.

For me, God is a positive, life-affirming spiritual force that we all have a link to via our souls. Think of an octopus-like creature but with an infinite number of arms, each arm attached to one of us. God is not concerned about your religious affiliation, but about the content of your heart. Since you can control the content of your heart, you ultimately are the one who determines the degree and intensity of that relationship. For example, if you are filled with rage and hatred, how can you then be open to receiving that life-affirming, loving spirit? You have to be willing to let go of negative, soul-sapping obstacles.

This spiritual link to God also links us to each other. I can’t cut myself off from you and not somehow obstruct my relationship with God. This doesn’t mean that we have to love or like each other, but I have to respect you as a fellow being and treat you with compassion.

In my view, it does not matter what religious beliefs you hold—as long as those beliefs do not actually put stumbling blocks in your spiritual path. More importantly, you can’t let other people dictate what your relationship with God is going to be.

Copyright © 2001

Until next week,

Feed on love; subsist on peace