Unconditional: Love, Abuse, and Survivor's Guilt

I have a message. I have a story I need to share. I need to share it with families and parents. I need to share it with the LGBTQ+ community. I need to share it with the families and parents of those part of the LGBTQ+ community. I need to share it with Mormons, Jews, Catholics, Muslims, Hindus, Pagans, Atheists, and Agnostics. I need to share it with my friends and family. I need to share it with my known and unknown enemies. I need to share it with conservatives, liberals, moderates, and the unaffiliated.

I have great parents. I want to state this fact early on so we can set it aside as we move through this together. I have great parents who have never abused me nor disowned me because of my sexual orientation. I have great parents who love me, not despite being gay. They just love me unconditionally. I have great parents, got it? Now let's set this aside.

Because I have great parents, I've been told by many gay people that I should feel so lucky, I should be so grateful, and I should act so thankful. I do feel lucky, I am grateful, and I am thankful. But you know what?

  1. The families and parents of the men who have so passionately told me those things have hurt me.
  2. And I have survivor's guilt.

This is my story - it's the story of a gay man growing up in a Mormon family who wasn't abused or disowned by his parents or family, but who has been in relationships with men who have been treated horribly by those who are supposed to be the most loving, and feels guilty about it. I have not been abused and I do not intend to discount the experience of anyone who has been. What I am doing is explaining how I relate to abuse through my own experience and trying my best to stop it from happening to just one person, just one family.

Abuse affects more than the person being abused and exists for longer than the finite amount of time the abuse may happen. Abuse infects the abused. It festers and grows inside of them. It influences every conversation, every relationship they have, forever. It fills them with self-hatred, doubts of ever being "good enough", and worry that abuse will happen again.

I have loved three men who were and are abused and/or disowned by their parents and families. Their abusive parents and families are at the heart of why each relationship ended. The abuse infected each relationship and ultimately killed it. It was a pre-existing condition in each relationship and I haven't been able to realize that until now.

The First Time

This all started when I discovered my new friend, who later became my boyfriend, was in the ER after being physically beaten by a family member because he is gay. I went home and sobbed to my parents about what happened. I felt powerless. He begged me to not call the police, so I didn't. I still regret it.

Anger by Can Balcı on flickr

Anger by Can Balcı on flickr

Later on, when this budded into a romantic relationship, the infection of abuse began to show itself through my partner's jealousy and extreme distrust. I will never admit I was or am the perfect boyfriend. I know there are things I could have done differently to quell some of this, but because distrust was literally beaten into him by someone who was supposed to love him, there was no chance of me "fixing" him. The infection was so beyond me and beyond our relationship that it was impossible to reassemble. It destroyed us in a fury of anger.

The Second Time

Alcoholic by Monica Dranger on flickr

Alcoholic by Monica Dranger on flickr

This new friend was in an emotionally abusive relationship when we first met. He wouldn't or couldn't leave. Instead, he would run away with me every so often and I would learn about his current relationship and his abusive family. I fell for him, and him for me. We eventually dated after years of courting. This time, the emotional and physical abuse he endured as a young man showed itself through alcohol and anger. He would drink and I would get yelled at. I would yell back. Two years later, he was drinking before going into work each morning and I realized my partner was an alcoholic that got extremely angry when drunk. This relationship had a violently chaotic ending where both his and my parents got involved. I look back at him calling his abusive father to come and "help" him as supremely twisted. My heart was shattered and I honestly thought I wouldn't survive losing him.

The Third Time

This new friend and I clicked so quickly that I didn't bat an eye when he said his relationships with his family were doing okay and were, in general, "not a big deal." Weeks and months went by, becoming closer and closer. I began feeling that all-too-familiar love for him. I happened to tell him about that love the week his "not a big deal" family began to actively and harshly insult, disown, and gossip about him. Saying the word "love" to him was either the best or worst idea I've ever had. Soon after, he came to me saying he couldn't do a romantic relationship with me right now because his heart is too broken over his family. He said he couldn't be his best self with me. He said he needed a friend. Wading through grief, I came out the other side agreeing. This relationship didn't end in an explosion like the other two. But he knows there's still time for that later. ;-)

"I Love You"

These men were all abused by someone who said "I love you." The distrust that grew and festered in them turned into an infectious beast that prevented them from trusting me when I said "I love you" to them. In fact, they were hurt by people in the name of love, by people who love(d) them so much, they were willing to become the villain to save their gay son, brother, uncle, or nephew's soul. This kind of love makes "love" the most confusing word on earth. So please don't tell me about my great parents that I know I have. Talk to me about my first boyfriend being beaten, my second turning to angry alcohol, and the third breaking my heart because of his own broken heart. My heart broke all three times. I'm not unscathed. The families of these men hurt me. Like I said before, I'm not eclipsing their pain, but showing you I have some too.

I am not sitting high nor am I sitting mighty. I actually feel shunned by my own gay community because I have this pain inside me that I'm told I'm not allowed to voice or feel because I'm so lucky. My gay community easily reflects, and even focuses, their familial and outward pain back inward to other gay people. The distortion of love is ruining the futures of so many wonderful people, but we only realize that when we decide we can't take it any more and need something to change. "How's that workin' out for ya?" "Not so great."

I shouldn't have to live part of my life fearing that the word "love" will trigger PTSD in a partner. It's not fair to either of us. It makes me so upset that this happens and that I have no control over it. I like to have control as much as anyone, and I also acknowledge that I only have control over myself - my actions, my words, and my self - but willingly relinquishing control of a situation is immensely difficult when feelings and words like love are in play. Because these men became so frightened of love, I haven't been able to fully express my love. It's like trying to describe experiencing a total solar eclipse - words only do about 20% of the job. When I have to stifle how I express my love, it is distressing and supremely frustrating. I've even been told by one of these men to not change how I expressed my love for them. But I'm not sure they totally understand how impossible that is. If I'm in love with someone, I'm going to do and say things with them that I don't say or do with a typical friend. It feels stifled. And I want to blame someone. I can't blame him. I can't blame me. I can try as hard as I want to blame his family. Sometimes that makes me feel better. But it usually doesn't. I can't control his family and I can't control him, so "blame" falls back on the only thing I have control over - me. But I don't want blame. Blame is negative. Responsibility? Maybe, but that sounds so sterile and too mature. Love isn't mature. It's not on the maturity spectrum. 

God Is Unconditional Love

We use so many different words to describe a singular idea: love. God, Higher Power, Divine, Christ, Allah, Almighty, Creator, Yahweh, Jehovah, Lord, Maker, Light, Earth, Sun, Sky, Gaia, Spirit, Father, Mother, and the hundreds more I've missed. The word you use is deeply personal and powerful to you. The thing that transcends all religion, creed, race, and location and is a single thread of commonality woven into each of these words: love. God is not just love. God is unconditional love. God does not "love the sinner, not the sin." That is conditional love and not of God.

If you're part of a family hoping their gay son will get scared away from a man who loves them and come back to you, admitting defeat, wanting your acceptance again, and hoping they want to be welcomed back into the church...think about the damage you've done to their brain. Why would you wish heartache on someone? Why would you wish pain? Why would you wish lost love? It's not about whether you "agree" with their "choice" (because being gay isn't a choice), it's about being a parent and having unconditional and "god-like" love for your child. Having unconditional love despite their gayness is conditional love. Unconditional love isn't "love the sinner, not the sin." In fact, unconditional love doesn't place the judgement of sin on anyone, ever.

Unconditional love:

man baby unconditional love.jpeg
  • doesn't attach strings
  • doesn't pose judgement
  • doesn't sling malice
  • doesn't harbor resentment
  • doesn't entertain anger
  • doesn't house hatred
  • doesn't possess fear
  • doesn't hold animosity
  • doesn't fling insult
  • doesn't abuse
  • and doesn't disown

I don't know if this will ever happen, but if the parents or family members of any of the men I briefly talked about above ever read this, I hope you've been able to put your pride aside and see not only the awful things you've done to your son and your family, but the pain you've caused the people that love/d him. There are reparations to be made beyond your son and far beyond me.

Forgiveness

Do you deserve forgiveness? Probably not. What you have done is truly the worst thing you could do to another soul: tell them you love them and intentionally hurt them in the name of said love. It is despicable, reprehensible, disgusting, offensive, vile, wicked, and just plain bad. And the thing is, the forgiveness I've seen asked for by families who have behaved in such a way isn't pure.

The forgiveness asked for comes across as 1) Ignoring: "Let's both agree to just ignore what happened. I'll ignore you're gay and you ignore I beat/hurt/disowned you, okay?", 2) Victim Blaming: "You know, if you would have just toned it down a little bit, none of this would have happened. If you wouldn't have advertised your sexual orientation, this wouldn't have happened.", and/or 3) Pity Party: "I had such a hard childhood/adolescence/time that I didn't know how to react. If my life wasn't so hard, I would have been better - woe is me, I have it so much worse off than you (the person I hurt)."

Would you forgive anyone who came to you with any of those attitudes? Neither would I. Sincerely asking for forgiveness is one of the most vulnerable states you could ever put yourself in. You'll have an idea you're doing it right when it's no longer about you and it's all about the person you've wronged. You're doing it right if you listen and understand why what you've done is so terrible. And you're doing it right if you not only say you won't ever do anything like it again, but you actually don't.

I Have Survivor's Guilt

Why did I survive and they didn't?

Why did I get great parents and they didn't?
Why did I get a great extended family and they didn't?
Why did I receive unconditional love and they didn't?
Why did I bypass abuse and they didn't?
Why did I leave the church so drama-free when they didn't?
Why did I escape suicide and they didn't?

I should feel so lucky.
I should be so grateful.
I should act so thankful.

I do all of those. But I feel guilt.

If there is one thing you leave with after reading this, I hope it's the realization that, when it comes to people's problems and comparing them to your own: If it's not one thing, it's another. We all have our own unique set of life experiences leading us to handle situations differently and feel situations differently. I know when the day comes that I'm rich that I will certainly solve my "poor" problems, but I'll be trading them in for other problems I can't even understand yet.

Even though I have great parents and don't have the abusive baggage so many in my community have, it doesn't mean I don't have my own issues and my own issues related to that same abuse, though not directly aimed at me. So, I'm going to own that I'm a Survivor. I'm going to own having Survivor's Guilt. I'm going to own the pain from those conditionally loving families. I'm going to own having great parents.

Heart(break)

It's amazing to me how much of a beating the heart can take. How much it will claw and grasp and squeeze to stop from falling off the edge and tumbling down to shatter into a million pieces. Only to then start putting itself back together, one piece at a time. Most of them in the right place.

My heart has broken a lot over the past couple of years. Yet somehow, it doesn't harden. After it repairs, it lets someone else back in. It takes a risk and lays it all on the line again, only to be denied, slapped out of my outstretched hand, and tumbles to the floor to shatter again.

Being an empath is incredibly painful. I feel other people's pain, yes, but good god, I feel my own pain like a scalding branding iron on my soul. It leaves a scar to remind me each and every time. I'm only 28. I've lost track of the scars...I don't even know how many there are any more, but they remind me of their existence when I need to be reminded.

So. I am single again. I am so tired of mingling. In pain and heartbreak like this, I always think of the lyric "I'm scared to death that there may not be another one like this." You know why? Because there isn't another one like this. There isn't another person just like that heartbreaker. Each soul is different. There will never be another one like this. That loss deserves ample grief.

Spare me the "he doesn't know what he's missing", "there's plenty of fish...", "he'll regret giving you up", "you're a catch, you'll find someone soon." I don't give a fuck. He DOES know what he's missing. We both know how big the ocean is AND how unique each other is. He probably will have some regret, but that sure as hell doesn't make me feel better. I have my own regrets, too. I'll find someone soon...sure. Sure I will. But I want him.

I have something I need to admit to the world. I MAY or MAY NOT be polyamorous. I don't fucking know. With some people I feel more monogamous than with other people. I'm figuring that out on a case-by-case basis now. This flip-flop was hurtful to someone I love and I need him to know how incredibly sorry I am for causing that pain. Please, please forgive me. I am so sorry.

I've learned a new word: demisexual. I don't really like the word, but I've read some insightful interpretations that resonate with me. I'm not "half" sexual like the word would make you believe. But I am taking this word upon myself to mean this: Initial physical attraction is good, very good, and very helpful. In fact, I need a fairly high amount of initial physical attraction. But. But - I cannot have sexual contact with that person until I get to know their soul and their energy better. It makes me a gatekeeper. Whatever, fine. It also makes me easier to take advantage of than I ever knew before. But now that I am owning this, I won't be so easily taken.

Grief. It doesn't have stages. It doesn't have beginnings. It doesn't have endings. Grief comes in moments of so many different forms: denial, anger, sadness, bargaining, depression, acceptance, unacceptable, hard-headedness, compassion, pride...the list goes on. But they are never in an order, and any can show at any time. Feel it. Cry. Wail. Scream.

A soulmate is someone with whom you made a pact before coming to earth. You and this soulmate agreed to teach each other something big. Actually, "big" doesn't cut it. You agreed to teach each other something monumental. These soulmate relationships quite often end in heartbreak. I met a soulmate in February. My heart broke in August. It was fast. It was wonderful. The heartbreak is painful.

My heart is in a million-minus-one pieces this time. This repair will be slow. This repair will be messy. I'll accidentally drop my heart 1,000 Times and have to re-repair sections over and over again. But you know what? It's still soft and open. I am the only one who has the power to harden my heart and I refuse to choose a perpetual hardened state. It'll harden for a few weeks...a few months...while the super glue cures. But I'll be back. Somehow. Somehow....somehow...

You Find Out Who Your Friends Are

Some of you may find this sarcastic and rude, some of you may find this loving and sincere. You're all correct...it's everything, but I certainly have no intention to offend.  Sure, there is a slight "airing of grievances" feel, but it's just a jumble of my thoughts.
You find out who your friends are when they visit you regularly,
When they support you at your job by SPENDING MONEY to see your work's latest play or attraction,
When they don't complain about the price of your work's shows or admission,
When they don't ask you if they can get in for free or for a discount,
When they know your job title,
When they know what your actual job duties are (If you spend the time explaining them, that is.),
When they know your major,
When they know your minor...s,
When they come to Europe with you,
When they do all they can to go to Europe with you but just plain can't go,
When they stab you in the back,
When they leave and never come back,
When they leave without saying goodbye,
When they tell you all the things you do that drive them absolutely insane but let you do them anyway because it doesn't really matter,
When they won't tell you what's bugging them and keep it all inside until they either fade away or blow up in your face,
When they say "I love you,"
When they say "I hate you,"
When they call you a fag,
When they call you a bitch (or betch),
When they like your boyfriend so much they can hang out together without you,
When they put on a gas mask for you,
When they make a fool of themselves in front of you,
When they let you vent about your frustrations with the LDS Church and just say "I know! I'm so sorry!  It sucks!" rather than starting a fruitless debate,
When they accept a present from you,
When they fail to accept a present from you,
When they give you a present,
And when they ask you what you'd like for a present so you receive something you'd actually like to have.

I Believe

"I believe for every drop of rain that falls, a flower grows..."

Wait...no, no.  Don't worry.  I'm not going to start out with a cheesy LeAnn Rimes song.  No, what I want to talk about is all my traditionally sacrilegious beliefs.

Yep, you guessed it!  A list:

My Sacrilegious Articles of Faith

planet.jpg
alien.png
God...doing science

God...doing science

  1. I believe there are other intelligent beings in our universe that we may one day contact.
  2. I believe I will one day have my own planet. 
  3. I believe I can have spirit children with another man. 
  4. I believe Jesus Christ married Mary Magdalene.
  5. I believe Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene had children with each other. 
  6. I believe the "Plan of Salvation" also fits for LGBT+ individuals. 
  7. I believe in aliens...to an extent. 
  8. I believe LDS prophets are men, not divine beings speaking only truth. 
  9. I believe I have a Heavenly Father as well as a Heavenly Mother. 
  10. I believe God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost are three separate and individual beings united in purpose. 
  11. I believe polygamy should be legal - as well as any other type of polyamory. 
  12. I believe I was gay in the pre-existence.
  13. I believe I was born gay.
  14. I believe I will be gay in the next life. 
  15. I believe "being gay" is part of my soul. 
  16. I believe a woman has the right to choose whether to carry her baby to full term or abort it. 
  17. I believe in the powerful potential of stem cells and in fully funding stem cell research. 
  18. I believe gender and sexuality are not solidified and constant. 
  19. I believe God is the perfect scientist. 
  20. I believe women can lead religious congregations. 
  21. I believe.

Wooooo....I'm so liiiiiiiberrrrrrrallllllll!

Go ahead, un-follow me, defriend me, un... + me?  Or just comment - that's more fun for both of us anyway.

MONO Lessons (Part XX: 401 - 419)

Meditatively Obtained, Novel, and Observational (MONO) Lessons

401. I lose a LOT of respect for people if I find out they’re not a registered (and active) voter.

402. Just as decongestant nasal sprays can cause rebound congestion when overused, decongestant eye drops (“red eye” eye drops) will cause rebound congestion of the eye – rebound “red eye.”  Thankfully I didn’t learn this one by experience, but instead by researching allergy eye drops.  I now know too much about allergy eye drops.

403. When I’m not happy, I hate hearing songs telling me to be happy.

404. Sitting on stage at Spring Awakening sounds glamorous and all, and it is, but as RTH put it, “we were still sitting on props.”  My ass hurts.

405. These bodies of ours are insanely imperfect.  It’s a miracle any of us are alive in the first place.

406. There is a part of me that knows this body is only a temporary inhabitance.

407. Life can really look and feel horribly sucky.  It’s anything but fun to feel this way.

408. Sometimes I get MONO Lesson writer’s block, but then I write 10 other things in the meantime while I wait for it to pass.

409. Doublespeak is maddening.

410. Sausages are silly.

411. Valentine’s Day cookie making with the boyfriend = adorable idea by me.  Oh, and the cookies were amazing GF, DF, and EF delights.

412. Bananas are also kind of silly.  …But not as silly as sausages.

413. When it comes to sausages, my mom and I turn into 7 year olds.

414. If you’re feeling constipated and also happen to have a sinus infection, antibiotics help both.  Double duty, if you will.  Duty.

415. Helping feels good.

416. Sometimes, normally normal things seem weirder than they ought...while sometimes, something new and kind of weird and bizarre can feel totally natural.

417. It’s tough to tell whether a difficult situation which, whether you like it or not, has an affect on your relationship with somebody, will immensely enhance this relationship or steadily destroy it.

418. 3-4 prunes at breakfast each day helps things keep moving.

419. Prunes really do taste pretty good.  (Especially Paul Newman's prunes.)

Simple Pleasures

Stepping on gooey tar on a hot summer day.

Newly painted street lines (especially on a newly surfaced street).

Freezing cold tap water in the dead of winter.

Slipping into a bed with fresh, clean linen just after a shower.

Staring at your favorite piece of art when no one understands why you love it so much.

Staying up too late reading a textbook that's just too good to put down.

Daiquiri Ice.

Pants that fit.

Blogging.

Orange chocolate.

Mint chocolate.

Raspberry chocolate.

Chips and salsa.

The complete and utter silence during a heavy winter snowstorm.

Listening to the same amazing song over and over and over again.

Staying up way too late watching TV on my MacBook in bed.

Lunch at University Hospital.

Computers that work.

Friday nights.

Secondhand smoke-induced Europe flashbacks. 

Juicy nose-clearing sneezes.

Laughgasms - aka, Laughing Attacks.

She Spies and D.D. Cummings.

ThinkGeek.

Gay cinema.
Cuddling with my boyfriend.

Marilyn Monroe.

World.