No Easy Outs

I've seen several posts discussing coming out as a way to be more honest about ourselves and to be who we really are as unapologetically as possible. I appreciate the importance of these things. However, I'm still not out to anyone I see on a regular basis except my wife. There are several reasons for that, and perhaps the most weighty in my mind is the fact that once out you can't go back in. The finality of coming out (whether perceived or actual) demands some pretty careful consideration.

As far as sexuality goes, I don't consider my attractions to be a "defining" part of who I am. They're significant and influence (probably) every aspect of my personality, but the sexual aspects themselves are purely private. They don't dictate my interests or behaviors and I consider them completely irrelevant in 99.9% of my daily interactions. So, in some ways, I just don't think coming out has much importance for me.

Some people have a much different experience than that, however, and would like to be open about sexuality and homosexual issues in their discussions and interactions with other people. I've felt this way myself, but when the issue is a discussion of my own sexuality (and not sexuality in general), I sometimes have to stop and really examine whether it's even appropriate to discuss my personal sexuality with whoever it is I'm chatting with. Sure, they're a friend who cares about me and loves me, but it's still a sacred and private topic. I'm not shy at all about talking about homosexuality or having explicitly sexual conversations in an impersonal, objective sense, but I tend to shut up (despite my occasional desire to "share" myself with friends) if I'm rational about it.

Perhaps the main reason I can think of for caution in coming out is that not being out has kept me away from temptation on many occasions. I have been to SO many professional meetings where I'm in a hotel far away from home and there is an organized group of GLBT medical students and physicians who, well, would likely provide plenty of opportunities to get into some hot trouble. I've been to their meetings to be supportive, but when I'm there I don't label myself as gay. I label myself as married with children and heterosexually active (or I would, if someone really pressed me for a label!). I read Abelard's description of a temptation with a coworker who was gay (and offered a sexual encounter!), and I suspect such a situation would have been exponentially worse if Abelard had been out to that coworker. I remember Max's description of a coworker who became obnoxiously determined to get it on after he learned that Max was gay. I've chatted with other bloggers who have gotten into trouble by "outing" themselves to others as well (once, for example, resulting in excommunication). Basically, I have plenty of temptation in my life without adding more. I'm pretty sure that I owe my 'gay virginity' to the fact that I haven't been out and have therefore had fewer opportunities to get into trouble.

I do see the benefits of being honest with close friends and loved ones about central issues such as this, and I am still considering whether, how, and when to come out to my parents. I'll do so when I see some real opportunity for benefit, and until then I plan to keep the private aspects of my life private.

Locker rooms, showers, saunas, and such

Today after I worked out at my gym, I was chatting with one of my coworkers. He's not a bad looking guy and after we finished chatting he headed to the locker room. It's not the first time I've been given a natural opportunity to follow a good looking guy into a locker room, but lately I've avoided taking that opportunity. I hang back and stretch out instead. Or do just a couple more sets. And I'm proud of myself for it.

Sometimes this isn't a hard thing to do, but once last week it took quite a bit of willpower. The guy that time in particular was someone I'm really attracted to, and I've seen him there many times. We both finished working out at the same time and I thought I might as well go to the locker room. But I realized that I felt an urgency to do it that wasn't tied to me wanting to get clean. I did another couple sets.

This is on my mind mainly because I've seen so many stories about saunas and showers over my time blogging. Gentlefriend's was the most recent, but certainly isn't unique. I've heard repeated stories (both published and private) of guys in saunas masturbating while they watch each other. I initially thought this must just be seedy gyms with a rampantly gay population, but apparently it's not. I even read an article about a lawsuit by some janitors who were sick of seeing gay sex all the time at a popular New York health club chain.

It's enough to make me rethink the health benefits of working out. :-) Here I am a doctor, spending half my waking hours bickering with patients about how they need to exercise more and take care of their bodies, and yet I'm inclined to think it would be better for me to die young and fat than to put myself into a tempting situation like that.

I may not be strong enough to resist if the right temptation presents itself, so I've got to be vigilant in making sure that I don't let my subconscious cruise my horny self into a situation where I'm bound to be in loads of trouble. Luckily, my gaydar is not so good. Even more lucky, med school and residency have aged me a bit. Thank goodness for being old and ugly.

So. I guess I'll wait until the locker room is clear before getting my things. And saunas are over-rated anyway. :-)

Underwear enacting evil

Jessie mentioned that the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet has changed its wording to de-emphasize ratings in favor of making informed entertainment decisions. But that leaves me with the whole burden of evaluating my entertainment for myself—exercising my free agency muscles, as santorio puts it. I love the idea, but in practice this has been very problematic. I’m afraid of indulging the oblivious inconsistency I’ve seen in others.

I’ve heard one way to evaluate questionable content is to determine whether it is portraying evil (i.e. accurately describing the consequences that come from violence, revenge, moral depravity, etc.) or actually enacting the evil itself. Media supposedly enacts evil when it makes it appear glamorous or in any way divorces it from the harsh realities that surround it. Not showing the consequences is evil in itself, the idea goes.

This sounds very wise until I actually calculate out how it might apply. So, now I can watch explicit extramarital sex as long as there’s eventually a horribly awkward confrontation with the spouse? I get aroused by underwear ads, so it seems to me that I should avoid the bothersome ones even though the men standing there in their near-nothins are being very candid and honest about the consequences of wearing underwear.

Plus, I’m horrible at putting down a book or leaving a movie if it suddenly seems out of line. I’m a sucker for finishing what I start (how does it end? I MUST KNOW!).

Rrrrratings

I’ve never been one for R-rated movies. In fact, by the time I finished college, I don’t think I had ever seen a full R-rated film knowing that it was R-rated. Truthfully, there were a couple where although I didn’t know the rating for certain, I didn’t walk out even when things went sour, so I can’t pretend to be such a perfect little boy. (I’m resisting the urge to be glib about my concurrent refusal to watch R films but willingness to watch porn privately). But still—I steered clearer than most.

Apart from the prophetic prohibition of R films, I found it easier to just leave the responsibility for choosing what is acceptable to the faceless motion picture ratings group. But now I’m persuaded that that’s sort of a cop out. Putting aside the controversy over the inconsistency and arbitrary nature of the rating system in this country, it seems that for a thinking adult, ratings are inadequate. I’ve seen a fair amount of nudity in non-R-rated films (and that’s where I personally run into the most trouble). My inclination is to believe that NC-17 movies are downright bad. However, no children under 17 are admitted to the temple movie, so what’s the rating on that?

I’ve now watched a few R films, generally chosen for having an uplifting message and having a rating that is meant to protect children from being unnecessarily troubled rather than for being indecent. But I’m ambivalent because of the prophetic advice not to watch R-rated films—especially given the arbitrary and evolving nature of the ratings system in the U.S. It’s a conflict about the spirit vs. the letter of the law we’ve all been through before, and I was always taught the spirit of the law extends the letter rather than contradicts it. And as one who feels an urgency to hold on to all the spiritual strength I can, it should be a no-brainer. Now, if only there were a rating system for books… Censorship!!!

Learning from SSA

I had a bishop who used to say that whenever he had a hard situation he used to ask in his prayers what he had to learn with that situation. He said that every trial we get is for a purpose and that we have something to learn from it. He also said that once he knew its purpose and have done what was required of him the hard situation he was facing would go away.

I don't know if I can say that God has given us SSA. But I believe that in my situation it has given me some blessings. Let me explain. I was raised in a very small community in Brazil, in the country... I started to realize that I was different. I felt attracted to other guys... [Several years later] I was feeling very depressed about these feelings and I still couldn't talk to anyone. I had decided that I would commit suicide... I had decided to [find a church to help with the SSA] and if it didn't work I would proceed with the suicide plans. About 2 or 3 days after that episode the missionaries knocked on my door... Two weeks after that first contact with the missionaries I got baptized. Served a mission and it's been 7 years now since that first contact with the missionaries.

I am telling all this to try to make my point which is: I would never have joined the Church were it not for the SSA... it was the SSA again that made me seek God for help.

I feel grateful that it has led me to join the Church though it is hard sometimes. Thinking on my bishop's thoughts on why we have trials I think I still have something to learn from this. I just hope I learn it soon.

-Rodrigo

This story inspired me. Usually when I think about the blessings God gives us, I don't think of the challenges. If people try to re-frame challenges to view them as blessings, I roll my eyes. But, they can't see me through the Internet, so I'm safe... until I just confessed it and now they all hate me. But I really like Rodrigo's story all the same.

Over the last couple weeks I've heard all sorts of people express their gratitude for SSA--people of all persuasions gushing their praise for SSA here and there, happy it has made them who they are. I could put in the links, but there would be too many. Rodrigo's story above is the most compelling I heard. I like the idea of learning from the challenges God gives us. I like the idea of looking on the positive side. I like the idea of burning in hell a little bit less, and the fact that my SSA motivates me to do things that could bring that about (like cheat on my family) tempers my gratitude.

I'll be grateful for my SSA and all that it has taught me once it is gone. But I fear that to laud it as some wonderful thing in my life invites me to incorrectly view it as good in itself. And I believe that SSA is morally neutral in and of itself--it's only the way I deal with it that makes it a blessing or a curse. I hope that someday I can express my true gratitude for the things SSA has taught me. I suppose it will happen when I'm certain that I'll have the strength to successfully bypass all the temptations that are associated with it.

Compliance

Last night on call I was paged by a nurse because one of the patients in our coronary intensive care unit was threatening to leave against medical advice. The man had severe heart disease, plaques growing by the day, clogging off his arteries because of his smoking, diet, and unfortunate genetic predisposition. He'd already had a heart attack even though he was young, but he didn't see the need to stay in the hospital when, after a few pills, he felt so much better.

At times like these, it's my job to lay the smack down.

"What's the trouble, Mr. X? Why are you planning to leave?"

"I'm 42 years old and I can eat whatever I want. This place is terrible. If I want bacon for breakfast, I can have bacon for breakfast. If I want to smoke, I can smoke. I'm 42 years old."

He was, of course, acting 4 decades younger than his stated age. I attempted to explain to him in no uncertain terms that bacon was likely going to kill him and that we preferred it not be today. I don't know if he really understood what I was talking about or not. The concept of risk factors and cumulative behaviors contributing to disease aren't compelling when his past experience so emphatically impressed on him the memories of wolfing down saturated fat to his, umm, heart's content with nary a chest pang. It's the same conversation I've had a million times with smokers who with fallacious logic stubbornly refuse to understand that there are any real consequences at all.

It's a problem that results in poor "compliance"--the term used to connote how well a patient adheres to the treatments recommended by the doctor. Some patients are non-compliant because of financial concerns, some because the don't understand the instructions, and some because they're too darn lazy to go fill the prescription that could save their life. The best treatment, and the one prone to the worst compliance, is more exercise and a better diet. Such treatment helps every system in the body in unimaginable ways. But who wants to do that? Certainly not someone status post decades of habitual self-abandon.

The point of this post-call tirade is guilty acknowledgment that I'm non-compliant. For decades I've known that the best prescription listed in the scriptures for temptation is to pray. It's repeated more often than any other commandment, according to one of my seminary teachers. Pray that you may come off conqueror, Christ tells us. Why don't I pray more, I wonder? Is it so difficult? It's even easier than flipping open the scriptures and taking in a few verses... another prescription I've left unfilled for so long. Praying and reading scriptures are the spiritual equivalent of diet and exercise--fundamental and irreplaceable.

The risk factors of ignoring God's treatment suggestions are well established in the literature. They're beyond doubt. Why then am I so poorly compliant? I should be listening to the greatest healer of all. The message is like the one I gave Mr. X, "If you ignore the treatment we're offering, if you don't follow the advice, I can't stop you. You can leave here and behave however you'd like, as you say. But you know the results of those decisions now, and it's up to you what kind of future you have."

When the rules don't apply

When I perform a pelvic or breast exam on a woman, I am required to have a third person present to “protect” everyone. This is wise, I’m sure, and based on unfortunate past experience. On the other hand, I can do hernia exams, prostate exams, testicular exams, etc. with nobody there to verify that my maneuvering is purely clinical. I once asked my Attending if someone should come in while I performed a male exam and he laughed it off saying, “Only if the patient winks at you.” I volunteered no correction that the doctor could just as well be the one doing the winking.

I bring this up because being gay leads to odd scenarios that seem to break the rules at other times as well. Take, for example, showering with other guys. It’s not really a choice in high school, despite folks like my poor friend in middle school who got an erection and whose middle school life was never the same. Fob's quip in a comment that showering with other guys was not the time anyone needed to worry about him doing something inappropriate! Funny, and certainly true. But, just because they aren't likely to have public sex together, we still frown on high school guys and girls showering together... for some reason. I think extrapolating that traditional guidance to gay guys is probably a good idea.

We're careful about men going to girls' camp in the LDS church. And men and women living together in BYU housing, for example. A huge amount of care and effort go into trying to keep the situation itself, no matter how benign, free from temptation and even what my mother would call, "the appearance of evil."

So, I read with interest this post and the comments that followed. It reminded me of a discussion on D2 regarding SSA roommates. It doesn't seem like a great idea to me, to be honest, although I have mixed feelings.

In another example, I was jealous but also a little bit relieved that I couldn't hang out with the crowd of fun bloggers who met at the Evergreen conference and who had a big sleep over party.

I guess the point is that when the normal rules don't apply... you have to try to find wisdom in dealing with the situation for yourself. And although there are plenty who find tradition to be restrictive and absurd, I find it comforting as a default. Where it doesn't apply, as a gay man, I try to use an analogy to a straight situation when possible. When that’s not possible, I think it's important to use vigilant care in recognizing red flags. And maybe err on the side of caution.

Now, if I can just think of how to get a nurse in the room when I’m doing male exams without outing myself…

Perfect empathy

I’m fasting today. It’s nice. During the sacrament I shed a few tears when I thought about the Savior—about what He knows about me and how He is the perfect man.

When I posted a series on my beliefs, I never wrote about the Savior. I noticed it then, and I noticed again when I was putting together my blog index. I think I hesitated for multiple reasons, foremost among them that I had nothing to say that I considered to be particularly insightful. (Not that that’s stopped me most of the time!) It also seemed to be slightly inappropriate for some reason. But I’m not sure why.

In The Miracle of Forgiveness, President Kimball does not distinguish between same sex attraction and sin. I think this is why his writings there in particular have offended many men who struggle with this issue. I, personally, love President Kimball and his huge heart in encouraging us all to be repentant and receive the blessings of the atonement in our lives.

In that book though, he asks rhetorically if people can possibly believe Jesus was “that way”. He suggests it is abhorrent to even consider, but on a topic that is so important to me, I need to understand why. If, as subsequent church leaders have taught, the inclination itself is not a sin, then how do we know Jesus was not in fact inclined “that way”? I do not mean to be sacrilegious, but to contemplate whether those who agree with the brethren that the attraction itself is not a sin will find themselves balking at the suggestion that Jesus himself could have been sinless under just such circumstances. If you squirm, ask yourself, why? When the church can unflinchingly consider this, we will have grown remarkably in our tolerance, and there will be far less need for someone like me to be anonymous.

A Congregation of One, part 6

I was not well. Becky, my wife, was in class in the Library and Information Science Lab in the main campus library while I was sitting on a toilet on the second floor. And had been for a while. Oddly, a foot belonging to the man in the next stall inched toward me under the wall. It started tapping slowly and insistently. Deliberately. I recognized the proposition. One of the many skills my 35 grand yearly tuition had paid for. Placing catheters, IV lines, and recognizing anonymous gay sexual propositions.

Human Sexuality was an integral part of the Foundations of Clinical Practice course in medical school. Our small group was visited by a member of “the community” in an educational venture that was criticized by conservative students for its irrelevance and liberal students for its sensational “petting zoo” feel. There we were edified on the definitions and customs of tea rooms, Turkish baths, and “the family” by a middle-aged gentleman who audibly sighed as he expressed his deep regret that barebacking with strangers was no longer safe. When the meeting was over and the physician facilitator was gone, two of my peers began loudly endorsing the lesson, among other things. “I can’t believe people in our class are so narrow-minded. I mean, those guys who left the cerebral palsy video the other day just missed out on the most profound lesson we’ve had in months.” They were referring to an optional video in which sexuality for handicapped individuals was eplicitly explored. During this exchange, the two students steadied their gaze far away from me—a subtle clue that this conversation was being broadcast in my direction. They knew I was Mormon. And, I doubted the fact had escaped them that I was one of those who excused myself from the video. They didn’t know that my reason was a scheduling conflict. Or that I was gay.

Gay, perhaps, but uninitiated. Thanks to my tea room friend, I knew that the main library second floor bathrooms were once the best place on campus for gay pickups. Ostensibly in the past. And yet, there was the tapping foot.

Had I been tripping gaydar? I knew I had in the past. When I left my long-time girlfriend before coming to medical school, I finally decided to level with her. We sat under the stars on the edge of a playground in Sandy, Utah. The playground felt familiar. It felt as if our whole five-year relationship had happened on a playground. We were giggling children—fun, happy, and platonic. I stammered out an explanation on that night as to why our relationship had never gone anywhere—why she had suffered as I retreated from commitment again and again. She replied that she already knew. She hadn’t always, but she did now.

What tipped her off, I wondered? How many people suspected? Would most people be surprised if they knew, or would it have been like me with Jeremy—a confirmation of what had already been suspected.

The foot tapped.

This was ridiculous. I was in a filthy restroom feeling sick, and yet there was a feral urgency in me that wanted to tap my foot back. Something was inexplicably taking hold of my thoughts and desires. Allowing me to wonder what would happen if I tapped back.

After coming to medical school, my long-time girlfriend moved to Iowa as well. We were soon engaged, then married. We had taken the risk despite the weighty realization that only about 6 or 7 percent of marriages with one gay partner last beyond 7 years. We loved each other enough to move forward. The years being married had been difficult not only because of uni-directional sexual compatibility, but also because of clinical depression on Becky’s part. We made it through the depression and being gay, and we sure as hell were going to make it through the disembodied tapping foot.

I had read on a gay Mormon blog once,

In my studies of relationships, I've come to understand that every pairing, after two years on average, settles into things, and whatever feelings of infatuation they had for one another dissipate and either the union crumbles (if there is no fundament of true friendship and real love) or is replaced by a more profound love (if it is founded on true friendship and love). I avoided that entirely. I don't have to worry that one day I will wake up and not be "in love" with my wife because those twitterpations that convinced me to forge a union with her have dissipated... no. Our love HAD to originate from the real and the profound and the deep swellings of actual interpersonal comprehension and appreciation and real communication and mutual desires for true happiness... the things that LOVE truly is.

A few minutes later, the foot walked past me in the library hall while its head glanced sideways and then steadied its gaze ahead.

Index for A Congregation of One
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
part 6
part 7
part 8

Angst

A German word which means "anxiety" or "anguish." Technically, this is a term used in Existentialism which expresses the dread reality that the future is an unknown chasm; therefore, the choices that a person ( the existent ) makes are the determining factor in the outcome of one's future - thus, the cause for "angst."

My angst ebbs and wanes. For several weeks now, perhaps months, I've felt quite comfortable with where I'm at. But yesterday things boiled over and it reminded me that this journey is not going to be a short one.

My wife brought a gay-themed DVD home from the library this week. About 10 minutes into the show it was pretty clear that this show was not going to be good for me. I was turned on by the graphic portrayal of the characters' lives (nudity, sex, hot models dancing... it was all there). My wife asked if I was okay watching it, and I said that I didn't know. She asked if I wanted her to make the decision and I said yes. We turned it off.

Later in the day I confessed to her that I had watched a bit more of it. It was hot. And I was hungry. Plus, I had considered ripping it to the computer so I could watch it later when she wasn't around. I told her these things because I work through my angst, my conflict, my turmoil by discussing it with the person who loves me most in the world. And she said I had no need to hide it from her. If I wanted to watch it, we could watch it together.

I broke down. I was more emotional than I've been in months. Perhaps years. I said, "No! We can't watch it together. You don't get it! I'm addicted to pornography and that's exactly what this is for me. 90% of me wants to watch it with you. But the best 10% wants to get rid of it. It's not your fault. I know you are trying to help me and be supportive. But if I'm giving you mixed signals, that's why." My face scrunched and puffed. My dignity evaporated. My humiliation set in. Of course, being the saint she is, she apologized and agreed to help me be my best. She hid the DVD from me knowing I would probably want to watch it later that day. She loves me and struggles to know how to do what is best for me.

But this experience underscores the source of angst in my life. It's the divisiveness between the part of me that wants one thing and the part that wants the opposite. Someday I might make it to 100% one or the other--like Hurc or Kim--and that angst will be thankfully gone. I understand that neither rode is easy.

It would be hard to leave Mormonism for me. Despite my occasional doubts and struggles with the faith, I think the process of rejecting Mormonism would be a means to the end of embracing my gay desires. And I don't think I could be satisfied with leaving Mormonism as a means to an end. I'm in too deep.

And Kim says it has been 3 years angst free for her, but I know her struggles with the issues have lasted over a decade. No picnic down that road either. I've chosen this road for myself. The road less traveled? From all indications, I think my particular combination of choices and circumstances could be described as such!

Hence, the angst.