GLBT Ex-Mormons

Seventy-seven percent.

77. Look that number. Double-digits. Almost like a "crying snake eyes" roll at the craps table.

I will remember 77 percent for quite some time to come.

This is the percentage of the estimated Mormon-based contribution, according to sources with a personal stake involved in the outcome of the Prop 8 ruling, unlike those that were rallying in support of it passing. If the knife in my back plunged six inches on Election Day of 2008, I have four and a half inches to thank Mormons for. Bitter much? I still haven't healed, and I recall it as a scar. A war wound from the culture war.

Yesterday, I was filled with a sense of profound wonder when Judge Vaughn of the U.S. District Court in San Francisco made history. This is not the first federal court decision handed down in favor of same sex marriage, but it is perhaps even more significant than the recent Massachusettes victory for marriage equality. I am in the middle of history, at the intersection of faith, hope, and treachery.

On June 12, 2010, I was married to Owen. "Married" is perhaps a strong word, marginally pre-emptive, as we who live in Oregon are not given the option to marry life partners if they are of the same gender. Not yet.

My family, all devout TBM Mormons, all with missionary stories, or temple marriages as partial excuses, were present in full attendance on the 12th of June in Portland, Oregon. "Where's Doug's family?" you could have asked on that day. "I believe it is the cluster of nervous people not wearing black."

My family went above and beyond, considering the psychological and spiritual obstacles set before them. I have not asked if any of them directly funded the Prop 8 campaign, as they were no doubt encouraged to do so. I do not have to know, because I asked them to attend, and they did, in full and complete attendance. It was the first reunion of my family since my own parents' troublesome and legendarily unpopular divorce the year prior. My parents stood at opposite ends of family photos, sandwiching all seven of their children. Everyone was there.

Everyone. Not often do I count myself in that same category. I cannot! I am too strange for that term, like a foot too large for an army boot. Today I may feel bold again, and I say it, and I start crying. "Everyone has the right to marriage." Not 90%, not 52% and not according to 77% of paying customers. Everyone.

I cannot begrudge my family, for they have done what they felt was appropriate. My youngest brother was ring-bearer, and my mother gave me away (!!!). They have done so well for me in recent years.

Not all of my family is so kind. I know that amongst the 77%, many distant relatives lost money on their bet. I feel self-assured, as if I should rebuke them for gambling. I wll not forget the dangers that Mormonism does pose, but neither should I forget these clear lessons:

Thou shalt not steal. Especially legal rights granted to individuals.

The legal system is absolutely horrible, except for when it almost accidentally works for you.

If someone with more money and more power is trying to take something away from you, FIGHT LIKE HELL. It is up to YOU to determine YOURSELF, not subject to majority vote, and not up to 77% either.

Last, but not least: in all ways, look for love before you look for hate. You'll find what you're searching for.

Fair Warning: this post contains scathing rhetoric

I have a Jewish boyfriend (named: "O." throughout...) that by the asinine appropriation of Mormon lexicon, would be considered a Gentile, or, one that is uninitiated in the customs and teachings of the One True Church (tm). ( So I made him watch some Mormon cartoons )

Hella xposted

( Cut for length )

I'm officially ready to start dating. I think.

The problem, as I'm sure everyone runs into with such a decision, is where to meet people. Oh sure, there are plenty of articles out there that list the usual suspect locations, but honestly who really cares? It's not in my personality to go clubbing or join any social groups. And there's something extremely creepy about the idea of hanging out next to the Gay and Lesbian section of the bookstore just waiting for someone to come along. Such places are out of the question.

But I am Pagan now, so all is not lost. I'm turning to the spiritual forces around me to attract love into my life. You see, unlike the Mormon God, my deities don't care if you're screwing men, women, or dogs. If you want a partner, they'll help you find one. Simple as that. So, with my deck of oracle cards, I sat down and asked, "Where can I go to find love?"

The card I pulled was titled, Sleep.

I put away my deck and climbed back into bed. I guess that, for now, I have to satisfy myself with my dreams. Here's hoping they're steamy.

I saw this community and couldn't help but think, "Gay exMormons?  Oh my god! That's me!"

I officially left Mormonism a year ago, though my being a lesbian didn't have that much to do with it. I can't really remember why I left. Or maybe I've just gotten used to glossing over the truths that led me away. I said that I left because the church wasn't right for me, when in truth I wish I could say that I left because it was a frightening cult. It is, you know. That's why you're here too.

Looking back over my life, I realize that I've always been a lesbian. I mean, come on! I wanted to make out with my high school best friend so badly one night that I made myself get up and leave. That right there should have been a major light bulb moment, but it wasn't. Because of the Mormon church. I tried so hard to fit in that I was nothing more than a repressed shell of a human being. I didn't start to flourish until after I had left. I didn't embrace my inner homosexual until after I stopped thinking of it as a sin.

I've never interacted with any GLBT group before, so I'm a little nervous. I can't help but feel that I don't know what it means to be gay, because no one knows about me. Most people can't look at me and guess that I'm flaming. Really, my sexual preference doesn't make that much of a difference in my life anyways. I love horror movies, cats, writing, sunny days, and clouds that look like angels. Oh yeah, I also like kissing women.

So, hello.

is anyone in the community going to UVU?
well...do any of you live in Utah?

sadly i do and I'm trying to get involved with the lgbt club at UVU.
just curious if any of you are in it...or if you live in the provo/orem area.

I was standing outside on my front porch this morning rinsing off a silk screen that I had just used to make a tee shirt, when two very young looking men, nearly boys, passed me on the sidewalk. They had on white shirts, ties, parkas and name tags. The name tags bore the title of "Elder" and their respective last names, and under that the black plastic tags read "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints."

There was a feeling of dread, but it barely registered higher than that of mild annoyance. They approached me and introduced themselves. I shook their hands, introduced myself and started to listen to them, smiling politely at them.

I told them I had grown up in the mormon church and had left. They seemed unphased by that, as I'm sure the MTC trains them to not be daunted by such news. Plenty of people "leave" the church just out of complacency. I felt sorry for these boys. Not because I was about to give them a hard time; I wasn't going to. I was just going to be honest. It wasn't their meeting me that day that I felt sorry for them for. I felt sorry for them because they had chosen to do this, or that they didn't know any better than to do it (serve a mission and go tracting for the mormon church, I mean).

They asked me why I left the church. I told them that I was gay and I felt no personal shame in it, I was happy without the church. Again, relatively unphased, especially the young man whose accent and Asian last name indicated that English might be a relatively new language for him. He might not have understood what I was trying to communicate. However, he probably did, and was just very well MTC trained, probably just a naturally friendly and undaunted person anyway. As annoying as it is, and as much as they are putting it to work for something that I think of as "wrong", you have to appreciate that about them. The whole "midwest nice" that mormons exude. It's kind of phony, but it is also very well intentioned, for the most part.

I could have kept going, but really, I didn't want to have a long conversation or debate with them. Sure, what I was saying was pretty surface, not a great argument against the church, and in their minds nothing to deter them from continuing to try to convert me. It doesn't matter, I gave them enough to think about.

At this point, Alan (my room mate and ex-boyfriend. We maintain a good relationship as close friends) came out of the house onto the front porch. I turned around and looked at him, and I can't help but think that I must have been absolutely beaming.

Alan grew up RLDS, and most of his friends growing up were mormon. He told them that he's been exposed, he understands, and what he knows more than anything is that the church doesn't want him, so he doesn't need the church.

They asked if we had ever had a testimony of the book of mormon. I told them that I felt the same as Alan did. I told them that I grew up in the church, I loved my family, and I wanted to be a part of my family in the way that the church wants you to, and that the more I tried to have a testimony of all of that, the more it started to tear me up, and that I didn't need it. I can still have my family and not hate myself.

At that point, they started retreating a bit, but kept talking about wanting to do service in the community and help out if we needed it, but one of them at least was still sorta talking about testimony, trials, temptations and whatnot.

In a quiet way, he was trying to drive it home to us; "No, no, you don't understand. The church does want you, the church does love you."

It had lasted long enough and had accomplished very little. Alan then announced that he had to get going, which was true. I told him to have a good time and say hi to his friends, then I leaned forward and we kissed each other on the mouth in a friendly way.

Alan then asked if he could borrow some cigarettes for me, and I said "Oh yeah, let me go get you some".

At this point, they suddenly started to say quick "thank you"s and "good-bye"s and started walking away.

I was shaking with anxiety, but also excitement, and I had also had a bit of coffee that morning.

It was too much fun. I didn't feel bad, because I knew I didn't actually do anything jerky to them. I didn't fuck with them, I wasn't rude. I was myself, and I was honest. The dissapointment, the shock, if it was there for them, it was theirs alone. Poor kids, poor kids.

Mom: Talia's bringing her friend Scott up tonight. I said she could because he's one of the gals.
Dad: Oh, great. Is he gay?
Me, without thinking: Hey!
Mom: No, he's just their friend.
Dad: What, Lauren? Why are you so adamant about defending gay people?
Me: I don't think it's right to talk like that about a minority.
Him: They're a minority because of their sexual preference? I don't think so. I think they're disgusting and unnatural. Do you think it's natural?
Me, cornered: No.
Him: Then why do you feel the need to defend them? They're disgusting and I don't want that in my house.
Me: I just do. It's my personal preference, I'm sorry.
Mom, not good at being subtle or maybe just wanting to get it out in the open: Your personal preference is being gay?
Me: No, I just like to defend them.

He will never, ever forgive me. I just need to learn to accept that. As for her... I have no idea.

XPosted for self pity.

crossposted to a couple of spots

It's been a while since I last posted anything here. I thought that I would like to share something that I am putting in my next zine, if you are so inclined to read it.

For background info, it's about trying to work in the punk scene as an out male-bodied, male-identified queer in my hometown of Provo, Utah, international spiritual ground for Mormonism, arguably one of the most stifling and conservative cities in the nation.

I apparently joined a long time ago, when i ran across the comm again I didn't realize I had joined and tried to join again....got the lil error note. Anywho I decided now was the time to say howdy. I'm a Californian, single mom of 2, and I am bisexual....I realized this when I hit puberty and liked guys and girls. I was a 7th generation mormon (spiritually), and left when I was 18, officially (I'm 26 now). I say I *was* spiritually mormon cause obvious it was spoonfed. At a few times I thought maybe I did believe in it. that was short lived... Anywho, I won't get into why I left, what age I doubted. But I will say since I left I feel I can somewhat breath easier instead of having to deny something that apparently is a part of what makes me me. It's comforting. However, besides telling a few friends (some of who I regret telling), no one in my family knows about this. And if they did, who knows what would happen. My cousin started dating a man, who helped him off drugs. The family buzzed with "we love him regardless" and "if I had to choose the lesser of two evils I suppose it's best to be gay then on drugs"....and those were the polite remarks. I won't get into the other ones. *sigh* Anywho...HI!!