Sunday 25 March 2012

Reconciliation

I used to love Confession. It is terrifying, when you begin, to tell to this priest - this man - an accounting of your misdeeds and shortcomings. But I've always found that once I've gotten started, it is so comforting to be able to lay bare all of the things I hate most about myself and find that I am still forgiven. I've never had a priest withhold absolution.


During my "perfect Catholic girl" days, I would go to Confession sometimes twice a month and never less frequently than once every six weeks. Often I would sense that a burden was being lifted through this Sacrament.


But now, December was the last time I had been to this Sacrament. It's March, the season of Lent, and the usual push to confess is being meted out to all Catholics.


See, I have been feeling unsure if I should go to Confession or not. I know that the Church teaches that homosexuality is "intrinsically disordered" and I know that the Church teaches that it is a grave sin to act on homosexual inclinations.


Yet here I am, having just begun to accept that one day I will probably act on my own homosexual inclinations. After all, I've never really experienced heterosexual inclinations, and like it or not - deny it, accept it, ignore or embrace it - I am still sexual in my nature. I am so very tired of denying and trying to ignore my nature.


I've been questioning for a lot longer than I've let on, if this long painful road I've just stepped off of was really what God wanted for me. I've started to wonder, if maybe the reason that the Church can't find an effective way to fix me is because I'm not broken to begin with.


But with such a revelation, there is not only new hope for life, for future happiness, for love. There is also the shattering of my faith as I have known it. There is a need to accept that, should such a creature exist, I cannot be the perfect Catholic.

I did go to Confession on Wednesday. But I felt no lifting of my burdens this time, no breath of relief as Father prayed the words of absolution over me. Because in reality, the problem that I am experiencing has nothing to do with a need for reconciliation with my Church or with God.


The real need that I have is for my sexuality and my spirituality to become  reconciled within my own heart. This is the reconciliation, the absolution, that I am most desiring this Lent: the Sacrament of self-acceptance.

Wednesday 14 March 2012

God, I'm Sorry

I went for coffee with one of my friends today. Someone who has been there for me since I began my journey to become Catholic. Someone I trust and respect a lot. Someone I tell everything to whenever we get together.

So naturally I told her that I'm quitting Courage. That I've gone to a PFLAG meeting and am excited about going to college in May so that I can hopefully be a part of an LGBTQ group that might be starting there.

She said, "So are you one of those people who just picks and chooses what they like from the Church now?"

I didn't know what to say. She also said she hopes I don't adopt children, because children need a father.

God, I know she meant well. She wasn't trying to hurt me or anything. But her words hurt so damn much.

I understand, though, where she's coming from. I used to the think the same way. It's a struggle for me to not just slip back into that line of thinking. The Church hasn't changed in 2000 years, so it must be right. Well, the length of time we hold onto certain thinking or ideaology doesn't necessarily mandate that those thoughts are correct.

I think I've said similar things, not directly or personally to my individual friends, but in general. On my Facebook page, where I've jumped into debates simply to prove that my thinking is perfectly in line with Church teaching.

I'm filled with remorse right now, thinking I may have hurt my friends and other people who were reading, hurt them deeply, hurt them like I am hurting right now. Maybe I deserve this pain that I'm feeling - maybe I brought it on myself. Maybe it's worse for me because I still half-believe what she's saying, though I won't go back to how I was living when I was following Courage.

I wish I were brave enough to say I'm sorry directly on my Facebook wall. I really need to apologize. But right now, first, I need to heal from the pain I've caused myself, from the pain I'm feeling now, and then when I am stronger... when one person will no longer be able to shoot me down so easily... until then, this anonymous apology is all I can offer. But one day I will be strong enough to claim my authenticity back. I'm already on the journey.

Monday 12 March 2012

The Scourging At The Pillar Wasn't My Fault

WARNING: the link goes to a video that shows the scourging at the pillar. Youtube has deemed it rated content, if you are too young then don't try to view it, and if you are sensitive, be warned that it is very graphic. I posted it because that's the EXACT sound that I hear.

I know my previous two posts really seem like a lot of fluff - talking about a crush - but they're not, not for me.

At the suggestion of one of my ex-gay friends, I trained myself so that every time I was tempted to think a vaguely sexual thought, every time I got close to allowing myself to think about a crush that I had, I would hear the sound of the scourging at the pillar. I would hear that sound in my head, and I would tell myself that it was my fault, because I had learned from reading about St. Faustina that the scourging at the pillar happened to atone for our sins of impurity.

At that time, I had perceived that thinking about someone in that way, having a crush, thinking another woman is beautiful and wanting to kiss her, was my sin of impurity.

So to allow myself to even think about the fact that I have a crush on someone, to describe how beautiful she is, to admit that I want to kiss her, that for me is a step towards facing my shame and overcoming it.

To be very clear: my identity as a Catholic is important to me. I don't blame the Church for my ex-gay experience; while her teachings certainly helped me to gain that experience, I would never have gone there if I hadn't been looking for someone to confirm me in my shame.

I just want to explain to any potential readers, the why behind what appears as fluff. It's because it's a challenge for me to write it and not hate myself for writing it. It's because writing it is part of how I can start to undo some of the damage I did to myself, because now when I hear that sound of the whip hitting Jesus, I have to remind myself that it's not my fault that they did that to him, that this crush that I have and my admitting to it is not the reason for the scourging.

Unrequited Confession

it's in her feet - small, perfectly formed,
strapped in black sandals, swaddled in thin
nylons.... I want to touch her feet, to know
if they are as soft as they look.
Even if they are callused, I'd love
to touch them.

it's in her eyes when she smiles - so bright
they warm me to my core. I want to see her smile at me,
to see her blue green eyes shining on me,
her lips turned up as light pours through
and her smile makes life suddenly worth it.

it's in her laugh - I could listen to her laugh all day.
it's not like a child's laugh that makes you laugh too,
her laugh is like the wind singing,
pouring breath and music into the soul.

it's in the shape of her, how she is not too thin, but curves exactly right,
how she carries herself like nothing is going to bring her down -
it's in her voice when she's singing. I want to listen even more
than I want to sing myself.

it's in everything about her, though I know she'll never feel the same.
I'll never tell her how I want to bask in her presence
as if she were my messiah...
how every week that passes when I don't see her feels too long.

as I fall, I berate myself for the foolishness of my love for her. I know
as a Catholic girl, I should not want her the way that I do.

yet despite myself and all I hold dear, I hold her even more dear.
I know this part of me that wants more of her
is going to live inside of me forever.

Sunday 11 March 2012

My Secret Crush

I have this friend at my parish who is a truly beautiful woman; I have had a crush on her for the longest time. I don't know how old she is, but I know she's at least a decade older than me. Her hair isn't grey or anything, she doesn't look old. She never says how old she is.

I know she's single, never married and she doesn't seem to plan on marrying. I think she is straight, so I know my crush on her will never amount to anything. I worry that if she knew how attractive I find her, she would be freaked out. That doesn't stop me from wanting to be around her as much as possible, and from wanting to do nice things for her just so I can see her smile at me.

It's hard to miss that she is attractive - I've thought she is physically attractive since the first time I laid eyes on her. It's difficult for me, because she is wonderful to look at, but I try not to stare - I don't want to make her uncomfortable. Maintaining eye contact is dangerous, because I could lose myself in her eyes. Looking into her eyes, you can see everything she is feeling and so much depth just flowing through - it's like reading an intricately written piece of music, there's always something you miss because there is so much going by so fast, yet what you do see makes you love its entirety.

I also like to look at her shape - everything about her is exactly right - I even like looking at her feet. Of course, I try not to, because if she caught me staring it might make her uncomfortable

As I have gotten to know her better, she has become the one person I trust the absolute most in my life. I look up to her for so many reasons. I know I can tell her anything (except that I have this HUGE crush on her), and she would still be there for me. I know because I've already told her a lot of things about me, I've gone to her for help many times as I've struggled with my mental health over the past few years.

Her friendship is invaluable to me; my greatest fear is losing her friendship, my greatest secret desire is for her to love me like I love her, my greatest happiness is that even if she doesn't love me in that way, she still does love me as a friend. And no one could find a better friend than her.

I wonder what it would feel like to kiss her. I wish there were a way to find out without revealing to her how much I'm in love with her, except that I think if I kissed her I would naturally end up wanting more. I'd like to hold her, and be held by her.

I wrote a poem for her. I will post it in a later update, once I'm done editing it. It is a poem I will only ever consider putting out under this pen name, because I would worry otherwise that she might figure out that it is about her.