Thursday, August 3, 2017

The Fire Analogy

In gospel lessons on morality (particularly sexual morality) we sometimes hear "don't play with fire," and "stay as far away from the edge as possible."  I think there are places for those analogies, physically, spiritually and practically speaking.  Yet I would like to offer an additional way of looking at it.  There is another analogy that was initiated by a friend and has been passed around quite a bit among people with whom I am acquainted.  It's been incredibly helpful in navigating my journey, and I invite you to apply it to whatever your journey brings you to.



We need the warmth of the fire.

Don't worry.  I've already run scenarios through my head of what this might look like: rationalization.  That has been heard and understood.  And sure, someone can rationalize and get too close to the fire if he or she chooses to do so.  This could possibly include knowingly trying to skirt around the commandments or undermining the line of authority given by God.  I think it's safe to say that no one wants to get burned, so therefore, don't play with the fire or get too close.

On the flip side, if you get too far away from the fire, you get cold (let's assume this is in somewhat chilly weather).  One would think it's always safe to stay as far away from the fire as possible.  Yet that can turn into isolation, denial and unhealthy habits.  I've been in this situation at various parts of my life path, probably more often than not.  It's a place where I seclude myself from others like me, out of fear that I'll fall in love with someone, become codependent or act out sexually.  It's a place to go out of fear of what others think...that it might look like I'm doing something immoral.  It's a place that breeds a whole other set of issues, like overeating, pornography, loneliness, depression, anxiety and possibly anger and regret.  But hey, at least there isn't a direct violation of the law of chastity, right?  That's all that matters, right?

The warmth of the fire seems to be the place of vulnerability and where shame dissipates.  It's where relationships are built and progress is made.  It's where boundaries are set and respected.  It's where mistakes are made and learned from.  It's where the Atonement and the Light of Christ is utilized.  For me, this has included vulnerability and exploration, finding out who I am and what I am to be about.  It's involved figuring out how to set boundaries and how to love.  There's been trial and error, heartache and joy.  Ultimately, though, it's where I can find acceptance of myself, resist nothing and lay everything out before the Lord.

A word about what the warmth looks like for each individual, where that proverbial line is between warm and cold, warm and burning...that's going to have to be determined by individuals, ecclesiastical leaders and possibly close loved ones...no one else.

It's been interesting to see how often I move away from the fire.  It's where I start going through the motions, doing what I think I should do.  It's where I start living in denial and pretending everything is OK or that I have it all figured out.  And in the process, I move away from God.  Thankfully, time and again He brings me back to reality and truth...the truths that comprise His gospel and the truths He wants me to see in myself.  I have hopes and desires that sometimes might lie outside of the gospel.  I can't fight them anymore.  I can, however, accept them, sit with them and let the Savior take the wheel, resting in the warmth of His perfect love.

Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Staying in the Boat...

It can be relieving to have conversations with friends who simply understand me completely: the gospel part of me, the part of me that likes guys and the part of me that attempts to tie it all together and make sense of it.  Sometimes, we talk about our heartbreak at seeing people leaving the Church or making choices that may lead to that effect.  Of course everyone has agency and their own path to pursue.  Of course there are legitimate, understandable reasons.  They're not lost on me.  Yet that doesn't mean we don't still have our own feelings to process and work through.  Whenever something happens politically, or a church leader says something unpopular or possibly inaccurate about the experience of same-sex attraction, whenever someone has a negative experience that gets blown over the media about the Church's "horrible treatment of gays," the anticipated backlash always wears on me and people like me.

Elder M. Russell Ballard's talk, Stay in the Boat and Hold On!, has been one that keeps resurfacing for me.  I guess from where I stand, I can see where some of these possible deceptions are: doctrine vs. culture, "hate" vs. truth.  Add to that politics and "human rights," which platforms sound very compelling!  As ironic as it sounds, when I experience the heartbreak associated with all this, it just increases my desire for closeness and connection with people who will stay in the boat with me.  The imagery in my mind is us holding on to the boat...and holding on to each other.  I made the joke of a "cuddle party on the Old Ship Zion."  It's becoming old hat for me, but apparently that screams "immorality" for some people.  Saying "cuddle" and Zion in the same sentence is like a horrible abomination.  I guess I understand that perspective, but there's more.  I guess you'd have to "be me" and have learned what I am learning in order to truly understand.



But what I really mean...and what I think is far more important than word choice...

I imagine a band of brothers arm in arm as part of a greater whole, the entire body of the Lord's Church, staying in the boat together; brothers who are more concerned with really keeping covenants, following the Savior and sustaining the prophets than they are about pleasing others with the "no touch, no homo, avoid the appearance of evil" mindset.

I no longer feel like a part of the LGBT community.  I was wrong to think that my beliefs would ever be seen with high regard in that segment.  Even "gay Mormon" doesn't ring like it used to.  I honor that I am a son of God.  I feel more commonality among other members of the Church.  But at the same time, it doesn't mean I don't feel what I feel.  I know I can't do it alone.  It's wonderful to have brothers who understand me completely.  But I know I'll need the fellowship of other followers of Christ as I try to offer the same.  I don't always know what that will look like (except for hugs), but for now, just sit with me, love me and stay in the boat with me.

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

"How it Is" in June

Imagine receiving a witness of something beyond yourself, something that is beyond your ability to fully comprehend.  It's something that's not completely yours.  Yet it's something that just seems to be true, like a law of nature...gravity, for instance.  It's also something very specific and sacred.  Not just in the temple or in the Church, but in society...at least according to what you have learned.  In this day and age, however, in order to be on board with the new American dream, the new civil rights movement, "equality" or to be known as a decent human being...you have to deny that truth... 


More people could probably relate to that than just those in my little corner of humans.  But anyway, this post is meant to just be an illustration of how things are, what it's like, a peak into what I think about and how I feel.  It doesn't need fixing or clarification to show how wrong I am.  Half the battle is just finding the reasons why I feel what I feel and being at peace with them.  Of course I don't speak for all gay people, but neither do they speak for me.  There are a few, but they're far between.

It's not a secret that Pride month is a conflicting month for me.  Some people probably would just think I'm anti and tell me to get on with it.  Some would say "If it's not for you, don't go."  It's not that it's not for me.  It's awkward.  Doesn't anyone ever wonder exactly why it would be awkward or maybe not the best for all people who are gay?

The thing is, parts of the Pride movement are for me.  It's responsible for my right to exist and to love who I love.  It's part of the reason why I'm able to talk about same-sex attraction without having to worry as much as in previous generations.  Even with all the many nuances, it could very well be part of the workings of the Lord in getting discussions going in churches.  There are many things, about the origins of Pride, at least, that could resonate with the common human experience...striving for an end to violence, bullying, exclusion from families and being ashamed of oneself.  Many people say this is what Pride is. I don't disagree, yet it's still part of what makes it all awkward for me.

Another thing...I can't say how much I would LOVE to walk down the street hand in hand or expressing some other form of affection with someone I love.  It would be wonderful to not have to have a specific month or weekend in order to do that.  It would be even better if it wasn't considered a gay thing (I mean really...men hold hands in various places throughout the world)!

I'm sure there are many other activities and events that would be fun for family and friends.  I love the concept of hugging booths as well!  The only question is if I'm the one in the booth offering the hugs, or if I'm part of the gay crowd receiving hugs.  This really just represents another branch of awkwardness.  In a "building bridges" situation, am I one of the straight Mormons reaching out?  Or am I one of the oppressed gay people in need?  Yeah...this exemplifies some of my own pride.  I know some people would love to answer that and figure it out for me.  I also have my own answers.  But as I said, this is just an illustration of what it's like.

I think the kicker for me...is the potential of coming across signs and symbols that...from my perspective...mock some things I hold sacred.  Maybe it's something that is unique to me.  Yes, even if I was hand in hand with a guy or trying my best to support individuals, it would still be sensitive to me.  It's bigger and different than individual agency and personal morality.  I already understand that I'm sort of an oddball, but it's just how I feel.  It's part of being on the very edge of the LGB community.

From what I gather, it seems like the Pride festival would cater to everyone, but hopefully I've offered an illustration as to why it's more complex and not black and white for some of us.  As I mentioned before, it's not something I want to fix, it just is what it is.  It could just be a Utah Pride thing for me.  I just know that I need friends who see me and understand me as I am right now...even gay friends who understand where I'm coming from and/or possess the same feelings I do.
I realize that participation in Pride isn't an official requirement, but who knows?  Maybe at some point I'll show up at an event...preferably with someone who gets me, who will hold hands with me and acknowledge how big of a deal it would be.

Saturday, June 3, 2017

Lyrics, Music and Love

I'm spoiled.  I keep getting blessed with amazing church leaders.  Part of it could very well be how I describe things, and part of it could just be happenstance.  I recently transitioned to a conventional, family ward.  I met with two of my priesthood leaders to get on the same page.  They both had no qualms saying the word, "gay" and were very open to hearing some of my story (or what we had time for).  They affirmed to me that no matter what my choices would be in regards to relationships, I would have a home in the ward.  That is huge.  I think it's that kind of love and understanding (without feeling like they need to adjust their beliefs) that helps me stay close to the gospel. 

Aside from that, I was asked to give a talk in Sacrament meeting and share some of my experiences in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.  I quickly wracked my brain upon receiving the assignment and warned, "Well you know...my choir story is closely intertwined with my *gay story."  The bishop seemed completely fine with it.  So yeah, I shared what I felt with my ward, and now I'm writing a post about that talk.

I shared my take on what most people want to know about the Choir, such as broadcasts, tours, Christmas concerts, guest artists, etc., but leaving it at that would have made it a short talk and lacking in depth (at least for me).  So I proceeded to talk about my own self-transformation, my own coming to Christ.  I think that's the biggest part of my four years in the Choir.  There have been many times when the lyrics and music have penetrated my soul (especially Mack Wilberg's famous minor 6th chords in the organ bass).  There have also been times when music and my participation in the Choir was the only tether between me and the Church, even between me and God.

This was especially apparent with our Easter concert back in April.  We sang a new piece by Brother Wilberg and lyricist David Warner.  It was entitled "A Cloud of Witnesses," as it featured several biblical stories of the witnesses of Christ after His resurrection.  This concert came during one of my more difficult times.  I was bawling at pretty much every rehearsal leading up to the concert.  I'm sure many other choir and orchestra members had their own personal experiences as well.

The first part of the song refers to Mary Magdalene, how she was the first to see the risen Lord.  The lyrics that spoke to me were...

Then ponder on this witness,
This precious reminiscence:
That she who first perceived Him
By hope and believing,
Received Him in her grieving.
And in our sorrow we will see Him
Soon appear!



Mary received Him "in her grieving."  This spoke directly to the experiences I was having.  For many years, I had unknowingly numbed my pain.  I didn't want to feel it.  I didn't want to acknowledge that I was uncertain about the future, questioning my faith and the spiritual experiences I've had, wanting a boyfriend and trying to imagine how that would work, whether inside or outside my covenants.  In a way, I was wanting Christ to love me conditionally.  I didn't want to accept His love unless I was sure of everything.  Through these lyrics, I realized that I didn't need to keep hiding all this stuff from God.  He just knows.  He knows the desires of my heart.  I can freely lay them out before Him.  He loves me regardless.  His love is simply there whether I'm keeping the commandments or not.  Even when I'm battling bitterness towards others or when I'm lost in confusion, His love is. just. there!  That was a profound realization.

Another set of lyrics featured the two disciples on the road to Emaus.  Christ had appeared to them, yet they did not recognize Him. 

And so they sat at meat, all three together.
And when He took the bread and broke it
Even the bread of His affliction,
And then blessed and freely
Gave it unto them,
They then beheld that it was Jesus--
Saw Him, felt Him, knew Him,
And He quickly vanished!

(The Two Disciples)
"Then it was Him!
Our Lord and Master!
Jesus, Savior, our Redeemer!
Were our hearts not burning,
Souls not yearning?
Though our eyes were not discerning
Of Him?!"

This reminds me of the times in my life when Christ has effectively appeared to me, even though I didn't always recognize Him.  Most often, this has been through other people in many areas of my life.  I've been thankful for people in the Choir who have listened to me, spent time with me, hugged me (the hug quota is indefinite!) and simply treated me like "one of the guys."  I've been thankful for my family, who has been at my side, ready to give aid and unconditional love. 



Most especially, I've felt the love of my Savior through other men (and women too) who are walking this road with me and who have similar perspectives on the gospel.  I've been learning about brotherhood and deep friendship.  Christ had His band of brothers to support Him.  There's something powerful about the love (or in other words, attraction) that can exist between two or more friends who can relate to one another's circumstances and who are doing their best to keep the Savior at the forefront.  I've written extensively about this before, but I can imagine Christ holding my hand, letting me rest on His shoulder, kissing my cheek.  I can't help but feel that within righteous parameters and in accordance with other forms of platonic intimacy, this kind of physical affection with my brothers is very similar.

Anyway, things have been changing.  I feel like I've been starting a new chapter, albeit an uncertain one.  The experiences I've had recently with Choir, as well as others, have helped me see beyond the "gay."  It's important for me to emphasize, however, that this has been through acceptance and not rejection or resistance of my feelings (I wrote more about that here).  I'm not so sure acceptance is on the brain when we try to focus on "eternal identities" in lieu of SSA or another major life situation.  But anyway, I know there are other areas of my life to explore, including reopening possibilities that, for at time, had been closed. 

As an obligatory conclusion, yes, the Choir has played a pivotal role in my spiritual journey.  That pretty much sums it up.


*I'm slowly becoming disenchanted with some of the terminology surrounding same-sex attraction, as I am starting to move on and see more of myself.  But I continue to use it because of the limiting nature of language and also to be relatable.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

But What If...

True worship begins when our hearts are right before the Father and the Son. What is our heart condition today? Paradoxically, in order to have a healed and faithful heart, we must first allow it to break before the Lord.
Sister Neill F. Marriott, October 2015 General Conference

This Easter season has been a rather special one for me.  There are some things that might not be appropriate to share, yet I had an experience (well…a culmination of experiences) that I feel might be an important help in bridging gaps of understanding.  I’ve been exploring areas of my heart that I had unknowingly been numbing for years.  I’ve learned many important things about the Savior’s love for me and that the worth of every soul is truly great in the eyes of God (Doctrine & Covenants 18:10).  Yet, as can be expected with any time of growth, it has been coupled with some intense pain.  In a way, I was forced to a crossroads, and I think I needed it.

I’ve had to ask myself, “What if I did decide to be with a man? Granted, I still believe that being with a man could mean a few different things, both in and out of full fellowship in the Church.  But what if I did decide to share life with a man, even if it did involve behaviors and actions that require church discipline? What would happen in my family?  Would I still be loved and accepted in my own faith community and people who are already there for me?  Or would I have to go elsewhere?  I reckon I’d still feel uncomfortable around negative attitudes toward the Church, and I don’t want that.  How many people would “unfriend” me?  Would my love for my partner be accepted and cherished, even just out of a matter of respect? Would everyone be afraid that I want to promote or teach their kids “homosexuality?”

I can only speak for myself, but I still don’t feel like I’d try to make my relationship “the same as” a marriage between a man and a woman.  I feel like I’d still understand the Church’s position on it and I wouldn’t be one to believe in or advocate for a change.  Believe it or not, I still have some deep feelings about the institution of marriage.  Yet with that said, I still honor and respect others who do choose to enter a same-sex marriage, and I treat their relationship as such (by using such terms as “husband”).  I don’t think love of any kind has to be seen as “less than,” even though it’s expressed in different ways, sometimes by way of commandment.  This why I agree that “love is love,” but it doesn’t match what we hear in the political realm.

Anyway, all these considerations opened my eyes to what it might be like for others.  It helped me to have more compassion in my heart, even though I’ve tried to be respectful otherwise. The reconciliation of these feelings with faith is very difficult, and I can’t say I’m done with my own reconciliation either.  I can’t say I intentionally put myself in someone else’ shoes.  It’s more like…this could be me, and these are the things I’d be concerned about.  For me, I wouldn’t be “leaving the Church.” It’s more like “I want to stay, and I just can’t keep this commandment right now.”  That really describes the vast majority of us.  Homosexuality just tends to be the biggest, stigmatized one.

Let me just say that I understand.  I understand the desire of others to be reassured that I’ll stay where I am…or perhaps that ingrained desire for control.  I want to validate that.  I still have hopes for when I see friends come out.  I can’t help but hope that they’ll stay with me in the Church (I still think it’s a hoot to go to the temple with gay people, I mean really…who would have thought!).  I still enjoy cultivating brotherhood and sisterhood with those who experience this and do try to stay.  It’s OK to own and process our grief when we see loved ones step away (in fact, I’d be worried if we didn’t experience these feelings). And hopefully after that, we can allow it to be healed and then show forth greater love.

Sometimes it’s fun to be heralded for choosing what I choose.  But under all that I do have the “but what if” question.  My path of discipleship is ultimately between me, the Lord and my priesthood leaders.  I don’t need to be reminded of the consequences of choosing this or that.  I am fully aware and I know how important it is to consider those.  Yet common fellowship and ministry shouldn’t be dependent on those.  I want to continue to share perspectives from within a gospel framework.  I hope they help with understanding not only those who remain in the Church, but on a larger scale in the LGBT and faith communities.

On a more personal note, Sister Marriott’s quote above has been floating around in my head.  I did have to allow my heart to break.  I did have to acknowledge my desire for affection and companionship and that I’m simply wired for men.  I had to look at that part of myself and love it…because the Savior does.  He just knows.  He knows the desires of my heart and He loves me unconditionally.  If he can do it, I can learn how to do that for myself and others.

Monday, March 27, 2017

I Struggle with Judgment

Yes, I struggle with judgment.  I thought judgment and pride were things that people consciously chose from a place of comfort.  I had learned a while ago that pride and judgment were "wrong," so I just made a decision right then and there: "OK, I just won't judge and I won't have pride."  Easy enough, right?  I wouldn't have to be part of someone else' broad-sweeping accusation of judgment (which is judgment in and of itself), and I wouldn't have to feel guilty when it came to talks about these issues...if I just relinquished all my pride in one sitting. 

So ever since then, a bunch of stressful feelings accumulated.  These feelings had to be something other than pride and judgment, right?...because of course, I told myself I would never judge!  So I felt I was victimized by something else.

Truth is, I've learned that everyone struggles with this.  It's part of the human condition...and I don't hear that acknowledged very often, if at all.  As I learned at one of the breakouts at  the recent North Star Conference, judgment comes from a place of fear...the underlying fear that we are not good enough...that someone else is better than us.  I personally thought it was safe to assume everyone else was better than me....that would keep me away from judgment, right?  That's not a good mindset either!  But anyway, people who struggle with judgment are most likely struggling with something much deeper.

Of course I've consciously steered clear of the more final judgments, such as determining where someone is going after this life or what kind of person they are.  I also still think there are such things as righteous judgment, especially when it comes to our own well-being.  Yet unrighteous judgment, or perhaps just mistaken, can also come from placing someone else within our own value system (and more often than not, it's subconscious and it doesn't mean we're bad).  Synonymous with my unhelpful decision to never judge, I thought judgment was something that could be mastered within a short time.  Nope!  It's going to be a lifelong process for me and several others.  I'm going to continue to identify times when I'm burdened with judgment...cause it is a burden...one that needs the healing touch of the Master.

I've struggled with this more often in the gay Mormon world.  Sometimes it's righteous.  For example, I can't help but desire a network of gay friends who understand me, who are walking the same path I am and who share my beliefs about marriage and family.  I have to use judgment in order to choose these kind of friends.  Yet I also use judgment to build walls around myself (of course, I didn't know it was judgment...don't judge me!).  One of my friends hit the nail on the head during a teaching moment when he said, "But if I stop judging him, I'm going to be like him."  I can totally understand that kind of thinking, and I can't be the only one...hopefully the majority of people deal with this.

I sometimes think...if I soften up and show more love to LGB individuals to live or believe differently...I'll eventually end up in bed with them!  If I stop being so defensive of the Church and of its position on marriage...then I'll lose my testimony of it.  Truth is...there's some legitimacy to these fears, but it's a risk I have to take...a leap of faith...can I stay faithful to my beliefs if I exercise more love for others in the LGB community?  What will happen if I open myself to other possible explanations and beliefs about marriage?  The truth is...I still might have to make choices about who I spend my time with.  It's not like every group or meeting with "LGBT Mormon" in the title is a good place for me.  Lest there is any confusion, this isn't about them, it's about me.

I still struggle.  Just like most people who are gay (and really...everyone in general), I have my own feelings and struggles with where I've been placed.  It's difficult to have some deep feelings about marriage that lean toward the Family Proclamation, when a straight ally leans another way.  It's hard to feel like I can't be myself at church or at work...even if I'm not breaking the law of chastity.  It's hard to see gay friends kissing each other.  It's hard to hear negative things said about LGBT people (although honestly...I just happen to be in the right places and the right times and I don't hear that very much).  On the flipside, it's hard to hear negative things said about my faith, my leaders and how "oppressive" the Church is.  Even though such things aren't directed at me personally, it still hurts.  It's also hard to feel like I might lose friends if I were to choose this or that.

All this is my reality.  Some of it comes from my own unrighteous judgment and some of it just the baggage that comes along with my situation.  I'm not done with my journey with pride and judgment.  I'm still going to have those feelings sometimes.  Yet in acknowledging them and accepting them, I'm more at peace.  It's better than denying them and holding them underwater like floating beach balls.  In honestly accepting them and feeling them...that is when I am able to turn it to the Lord.  I cannot extinguish these feelings of my own accord.

So, I sometimes struggle with pride and judgment, but it's normal.  It's going to be a life-long journey.  If you have ever felt judged by me, I am sorry.  I'm still figuring all this out too...I'm still in my "classroom" of life.  Hopefully, we can become more compassionate toward those who judge.  They're in their own "classroom" as well.

Thursday, January 26, 2017

The Fear of our Bodies


I posted the following in a private group of LGBT Latter-day Saints (or more specifically, Covenant Keeping Queers 😜), and it prompted me share and expound...

"It may be because I've been around for a while, but I just want to say...sometimes we can be afraid of our attractions, tell ourselves "no" whenever we feel attracted to someone, or even avoid contact with people who are attractive or who we're worried about developing deeper feelings for. These are perpetuated by the things we tell ourselves and, sadly, lay advice given by church leaders who probably didn't know any better.

"I acknowledge that each situation is different and that we need to use our own wisdom and guidance of the Holy Ghost, but I think SATAN (that b*tch) is the one who wants us to fear our feelings and stay away from people we find attractive. This probably applies to more than just our little queer community. As I mentioned in one thread, 'friendship and connection is more important than never having an erection.'"

We're taught the law of chastity, and we're taught about how sexual relations are supposed to be used. That's all good.  Yet I wonder, depending on how it's taught, if it strikes fear surrounding sexual feelings. I've been on my journey for a while. I acknowledged my SSA over 10 years ago. I certainly had to go through a lot of growth and reconciliation. Now, as new people come in contact with our community, I've noticed one thing in common among many of them. There is a fear of being attracted to a person of the same sex. It's very easy to fall into this trap, as we are taught that sexual relations among the same sex are grievous sins (however, gay marriage aside, I believe they should be regarded the same way as ANY sexual relations outside of marriage between a man and a woman. Whether the Church currently sees it this way could be up for debate).

I've realized that this fear (and perhaps just fear itself) is part of what would lead me to pornography and other unhealthy habits. It can lead to a lack of connection with people. It might seem logical to counsel gay men to stay away from men they find attractive, or perhaps keep them from associating with other gay men at all. When really, that's what we need! We don't need sex. We need love and connection.

Now, I know I'm weird, but I'm not a lone. I do not equate platonic same-sex affection with the same between men and women. If I were dating a girl or married, I wouldn't want to engage in non-sexual prolonged affection with a woman who was not my girlfriend or wife. But no matter what happens in the marriage arena, I will always need connection and a healthy amount of affection with men. In fact, I wonder if ALL men are in need of this kind of affection with each other. Sexual orientation doesn't even need to be a factor, but I still like to think that my orientation as some sort of purpose.

I recently had an experience with fear. This didn't have much to do with love and connection, but it illustrates how FEAR could have kept me from a potentially healing experience. A few years ago. Some friends and I were in Las Vegas and part of the plan was to go to a Korean Spa (where people are NAKED!...separated by gender, of course). I didn't go. I didn't think it was a good idea for a bunch of gay Mormon men to go to a naked spa. Yet I acknowledge that even at that time, it was motivated by fear and self-consciousness.

It seems logical to strongly discourage men who are attracted to other men to visit such a facility. I think it would still be unheard of in many circles, especially religious ones.

A few days ago, I received an invitation to go to a different Korean spa with a different friend. Of course I was hesitant, but as I analyzed my thoughts, I realized what was going on. It was all fear. I didn't have any spiritual feelings telling me not to go. I was afraid of my body "reacting." I was afraid to be in the buff around someone I knew. However, I've been sharing dressing rooms with men for a long time. I also survived the college gym locker room scene, and it was just fine. In fact, it actually was a healthy experience.

Long story short, I let the fear subside and I went rather peacefully. I was comfortable within 15 seconds of stripping down. For reasons that would make an already-awkward post even more awkward, it was another healthy experience (I'm willing to share, just ask)...nothing sexually related at all. I felt confident and mature. Some might see this as the equivalent as a straight man in the women's side. I simply disagree.

Looking back, it is so clear to me how Satan disguised fear as a moral issue, and tried to use it to bar me from this edifying experience. I don't think everyone has to feel comfortable going to a Korean Spa. It was just my time. However, I think this principle of fear vs love is a principle that applies to EVERYONE, no matter what the situation is. Fear keeps us from progressing.

I will tie this back to my original topic. The fear of falling in love with someone of the same sex could potentially bar us from what would otherwise be healthy and fulfilling relationships. I've been "too far" emotionally before. I've been in codepency before. I continue to mistakes in my own life. Yet healthy connection with others is still something to work toward and cultivate. It's what we're built for. Some of us guys (and girls) just have a greater need of it with other guys (girls).