I haven't blogged for awhile. It felt like I just ran out of things to say about the things I feel so passionately about.
I've felt so angry since the election...not about the outcome of the presidential race, but about the passing of those anti-gay initiatives in several states. It felt like at the same time I was rejoicing about my candidate winning and celebrating the dawn of a new day filled with hope, my heart and soul were being slowly crushed under the weight of the sadness I was beginning to feel. As I watched and listened, I slowly began to recognize that even though we have come a long, long way, there are enough people who STILL believe it's okay to trample all over the rights of a certain group people, based solely on their perception of 'morality,' and those people actually keep managing to pass laws that make life harder for gay families. I felt devastated and angry, and as time has passed, my anger has not abated. I have raged out loud to those closest to me, I have sat in stony silence when alone and with others, I have slowly, over the last few months, disassociated myself from my feelings until all I can feel is this strange, numb nothingness.
Oh, and probably most importantly, I have stopped going to church. After all, it was those 'christians' who were mostly responsible for this, right? Those 'christians' who used the Good Book as their weapon of choice to bash over my head; those 'christians' who used their faith in God as justification for barging into my bedroom and deciding I wasn't worthy of entitlement to the same rights as every other American citizen. Those 'christians' are EXACTLY who I should be mad at, right?
Well...maybe not. The Christians in MY church don't feel the same way as other christians. The Christians in my church believe in inclusion, not exclusion. They have been nothing but loving, kind and compassionate since I walked through the door. Every week they remind us that no matter who you are or where you are on life's journey, you are welcome in this place. Still, I haven't attended church since shortly before Thanksgiving. My anger and hopelessness are so powerful that it has spilled over to affect those around me who don't even deserve it...affecting the one place where I could find people who could help heal the wounds in my heart and soul. This is no one's fault but mine. After a few conversations with Julia, a dear friend and sort of 'spiritual sponsor,' I am recognizing that I'm not mad at Christians. I'm mad at God.
There. I've said it. I'm completely and totally pissed off at God, and I'm not sure God even exists. What kind of a God allows his very own followers to think that creating injustice is the right thing to do? I feel kind of lost, and I'm mad that I won't allow myself to do the things I need to do to move forward.
Cry, for instance. And I don't mean just shedding a few tears; I'm good at that. For instance, the other night talking to Julia I said 'I'm mad at God and I don't know if he exists' and started crying. Then, because Big Girls Don't Cry, I got up and started doing other things...checked my messages, read some news stories, looked at good looking women in tank tops on the internet...all so I could stop the crying. What I mean is a good, soul wrenching, chest pounding, nose running, eyes streaming, heart aching, wailing out loud, it-doesn't-matter-if-big-girls-don't-cry-because-crying-is-what-I-really-need kind of cry.
I really need to start there. Then, I can move on, and stop looking at the people around me as the enemy. I can get back to my church home, where I feel loved and accepted by everyone, not just those who are gay like me; back to being an activist helping to educate others and fight for justice so that the next generation has it just a little easier than I do, in much the same way that I have it a little easier than the ones who came before me.
Julia, we'll have that cry-date soon. ;)
Posts
