I know, I know- you have missed my incredible words of wisdom SO much and have been laying awake at night thinking, “when, oh when, will there be another post?” Weeping and gnashing of teeth, etc.
I have that affect. Effect? I can’t remember.
Here I am, humble readers (you may be few, but you are many in my heart). Here to tell you that, while I am full of motivations, I am short on the words to express myself. Creative constipation, if you will. It’s a debilitating medical condition that has reduced me to a sort of zombie-like state; staring blankly at the computer screen, drool running down my chin as I grunt in frustration/disappointment at my lack of articulation. First world problems abounding. Woe. Is. Me.
Can I get a tissue and a pat on the back over here?
I also have the symptoms of chronic draft creation. Half a dozen fragmented documents, sitting idly in the right hand side of my computer screen. Thoughts begun but never brought to completion. They are the casualties of my writing process. Ideas that may never reach complete gestation.
So, I figured the best policy would be to just be honest with where I’m at right now and hope that that will be catharsis enough…
Sometimes it feels overwhelming.
All of the new things I am learning about the lgbt community. All of the information being presented on being a gay Christian and whether or not to choose celibacy. The scriptural debates, the angry people on both sides, the pressure to fit into a certain brand of lesbian, the questions from friends, the accusations of strangers, the going out and meeting new lgbt folks, the pressure to reject Christianity as irredeemable, always measuring people into categories of rejection or acceptance/affirmation, keeping track of who knows and who doesn’t know, the articles and books and blogs and magazines and…. overload.
This piece of my identity has become the whole of my identity. I am no longer just a friend, but a gay friend. I don’t just ascribe to Christian beliefs, I am a gay Christian trying to prove that I am okay enough to sit in pews I was once invited to sit without any hesitation. I don’t get to pursue my dreams of working on Christian college campuses because I am a homosexual student affairs professional. It has become the adjective that places this heavy, lopsided weight on everything else. It becomes the focus when the truth is that I am more than just my sexual identity. Sure, that identity informs how I view the world but it does not have to become the only thing I am ever seen as. I want to see the world through more than just one piece of the frame.
(I feel like some sort of inspirational song should be playing in the background as I look off into the future and wax poetic passion about my woes. Perhaps a nice 80s empowerment rock ballad).
I am not ashamed of this part of myself. But I am also a woman concerned for women’s issues. I also feel deeply for human rights internationally. I am passionate about art and creating it in it’s various forms. I like to goof off and make people feel as included as I can. I am a person of faith in pursuit of an authentic relationship with the Christ I have grown to not only love, but respect as the best model for how to live my life with love and and grace and peace, etc. I am a friend to some of the most top-notch individuals on the planet and value the notion of community and all of the beautiful and difficult things that bring. Also, I am a sister, a daughter and (arguably most importantly) an aunt to an incredible 1 year old.
I am a whole person. And the things that I have to offer are valid and worthwhile and more than just about who I want to kiss.
That is all.