Life is so unpredictable. Changes always come along, in big or small ways. I don't know what happened that this sudden change has turned my world upside down. I don't know exactly what it is, it just hit me, but there is something really special about you.
It might be all the things I see on the surface, the things that everyone notices and admires about you, qualities, capabilities and a wonderful smile obviously connected to a warm and loving heart; these things set you apart from everyone else. But it may also be the big things ... the person you really are that I hope to know more someday. And it might also be the little things ... the way you walk and all your actions. I receive so much joy just being able to see a smile in your eyes. If I ever figure out the magic that makes you so special, I'd probably find out that it's a combination of all these things. You are a rare combination of so many special things. You are really amazing.
Inside of me there is a place where my sweetest dreams reside, where my highest hopes are kept alive, where my deepest feelings are felt and where my favorite memories are safe and warm. I find that you're on my mind more often than any other thought. Sometimes I bring you there purposely just to make my day brighter. But more often, you surprise me and find your own ways into my thoughts. There are even times when I awaken, I realize that you've been a part of my dreams. Then during the day, when my imagination is free to run, it takes me into your arms and allows me to linger there knowing there's nothing I'd rather do. I know my thoughts are only reflecting the loving hopes of my heart because whenever they wander, they always take me to you.
Only the most special things in my world get to come inside my heart and stay. And now, I realize how deeply my life has been touched by you.
Today I say farewell to self-criticism of my being. I choose today to see myself as a beam of light designed to shine wholeness and happiness to others who I meet.
Today I say farewell to self-sabotaging behaviors. No longer will I remind myself of my past mistakes and failures. No longer will I beat myself up for making choices that did not benefit me. Instead, today I choose to honor learn from my failures and embrace my successes as I am a man designed with dignity.
Today I say farewell to poor self-esteem. No longer will I compare myself to other people as I realize that there is no one in this world that can be like me. I have not found a person who is able to talk, walk, love, and touch with such passion and inspiration like me. I am often imitated but am never duplicated as there is only one me. Thus today I accept that I am beautiful and am proud of who I am.
Today I say farewell to being a man scorned, as I cannot rewrite the past. No longer will I sit in a room filled with despair, depression, hopelessness, and unhappiness. I will no longer allow my thoughts of past hurts to impact my health, wellness, career, and wealth. I trade these tight fitting shoes from the past for shoes that I am able to strut myself in without fear of corns or bunions. I will walk with my head held up high, as I am a real man with creative thoughts, visions, and great pride.
Today I say hello to being a man who loves life. I am filled with energy no matter what obstacles I may face. I was designed to have success in every area of my life and I happily take hold of the reins.
Today I say hello to being a man who does not have to settle for less. I no longer have to compromise my happiness just to be like everyone else. Instead I strive to fly with the eagles and embark on my life’s journey with grace and tenacity. I am a strong man. I am a real man.
Today I choose to love myself for who I am and not what other people want me to be. Why you might ask? I have discovered the strength that lies within me. Through times of hurt, I will strive for healing. When faced with fears, I will find faith and peace. When I am feeling alone I will rest assured there is someone with me. I have finally discovered that I have found a friend and that friend lives deep inside me.
So this is my final farewell to ALL my past hurts as I choose to no longer allow you to reside within me.
Fulfill your dreams today. No more waiting no more wishing start right now.
Within this very second we can find what was and is missing from our lives.
Whatever causes us to hesitate before meeting goals or taking time to smell a flower the answers are still within us.
We choose to embrace beautiful, luscious,glorious things in life or not. Within this very second we can... choose and ohhh my goodness isn't that outstanding? I think so and I think so.. so, so much, that I will write it down place it under my pillow and dream of life's potential.
We can feel our own breath acknowledge it more consciously than the single breath before and be renewed in that or... not.
We miss the serendipity of life sometimes. Feel that deep inside of your soul so you will not miss it again.
We plan and fret and spin our wheels.
Stop.
Sometimes we miss that our dreams are being fulfilled right in front of us and we walk past them. I do! YOU do... right? Of course!
Decide anew.
We work hard to meet our goals but fall short of noticing that 'spectacular' is within reach and oft times all around us.
Why not accept spectacular things happening NOW? Why not?
Why not see that the light is indeed excellent? It truly is all around us.
Within every morning there is a sunrise and the evening brings the colors most spectacular of a well spent day bringing us sunsets despite our awareness of them they still come!... Wow!
The moon is right there in its place blessed by a zillion stars as we stay inside our houses.
or
Here is an idea...
We can step into the outside world and find the "magic".
Think about that for just one second..
tic toc.. tic toc
take pause..
Because this is YOUR LIFE and YOU are living it i n the very second that you read this.
STUN yourself.
Stars shine and twinkle within their very same galaxy stars turn in opposite directions! Wow! So they do that why? I don't know at all! BUT it feels like it is... to secure their individuality.
HOW do I find ME HOW do you find YOU?? ...within that idea?
Looking onto a landscape off in the distance mountains take on a purple hue. Trees and plants awaken with the change of season. Rivers move toward the ocean wildlife is as healthy as we care to make it. What an opportunity... take it and make it shine!
Expect the brush of life to meets your dreams on a canvas of miracles.
Why not?
Why decide that dreams being met are for other people?
Mentors come into our lives to show us the way. We stretch our minds and hearts ...or not.
STEP OUT!
BE!
TODAY Y-O-U can be as spectacular as YOU want it to be... simply by noticing and listening to your heart.
For most of us being alone is taken up as when no one is with us, we are sitting alone, in a crowd. We name it as loneliness but we if are alone then why we feel that in spite of being alone we are with someone, we say we are alone but in that loneliness we are not alone we are with our inner self. Just think of it. When we are alone we never sit idle, some thing fishy is always going on in our mind. Either we use to think or we use to talk. But if we say that we are alone then with whom we are talking. At that very moment we are not alone, though for others we are but for our soul we are at that moment with our inner soul.
This loneliness is life for some of us. At times we prefer to sit alone because at that moment we talk to ourselves, we try to find out why we feel so. We cry, we laugh then how can it be said as being alone. How can one laugh or cry or talk being alone.
To be alone is sometimes much better then to be with someone, because when we are alone we take it as what we want, what are our desire’s and then we use to think how to get on to that, though we feel bad also but in that case we find the reason to be happy for that very situation from our inner self. And at times we feel the presence of the person with whom we want to talk or to share something and then we just speak out what is there in our heart, in our mind.
Being alone is not as we normally take it up as, its nothing else then something a soothing time. Though at times we feel like broken, we feel like why we are here if we have to be like this only. Either we use to criticize others or we criticize ourselves.
As because we think only those aspects which we want to see, we don’t go for those aspects that should be considered or we may say at that very moment either we are in anger or we are in sad mood so we think only those point which make us unhappy and we feel low and we think we are left alone and we forget the good things because at that point of time our mind lets us to do according to one side only, and at times we listen to our mind only and we listen to our heart then we reach to the conclusion. Because at many places its better to listen to our heart then to our mind.
When one feel lonely just sit look for why you are feeling so, listen to what your heart say then the condition to which you say as loneliness will become your friend for times.
How many times in your life have you not said what you had to say and not done what you had to, only because you were afraid?
And why were you afraid? Were you in a life-threatening risk? Would you have to make too much effort?
No. You were afraid because you didn't want to be ridiculous, you didn't want to show your weakness, you didn't want to face the truth and confess it to someone.
When you have a fear, it is because you know that there is some danger or many dangers threatening you. It's not a feeling that appears in your behaviour without any reason.
When you are afraid to say the truth, afraid that you might be considered an idiot or dependent on someone else, you are in fact afraid to destroy the image of your ego because it is an idol for you.
Therefore, you prepare a tremendous conspiracy only in order to hide how desperately you need the person you love, or only in order to appear a certain way in your social environment.
You let the person you love suffer very much by being away from you and you yourself suffer far more, only because your ego cannot accept the simplicity of sincerity. You cannot confess your weakness. Therefore, you prefer to lose and suffer without hope than be humble and accept that you need someone.
You prefer to be cold and cruel with the person you would like to hug, only because you think that this must be your attitude, according to your position.
You are afraid to be human, have needs, admit that when you are in love with someone you are weak too, like everybody else in this world, even though many people try to hide it like you.
You are afraid to be humble, simple, insignificant and especially afraid to be disliked. You have to always be on top! You cannot lower yourself. Your pride doesn't allow you to be simple and like the crowd.
Therefore, you prefer to be crazy and become crazier in the future due to your despair. You prefer to lose and to abandon, to humiliate and to condemn.
However, I feel I have the obligation to inform you that schizophrenia and psychosis are waiting for you, when you explode like a bomb because you didn't have the courage to be human, to ask for what you needed so much or even to beg.
Love, pride, fear and craziness are the component parts of a real tragedy.
If you are proud of yourself and you tend to behave as I described before, please think seriously about my words.
A great teacher teaches you more than just the basics in math or English or history. A great teacher inspires you to reach beyond your grasp and aspire to be a better person. A great teacher will go out of their way to make sure that you feel able and valued, no matter how many students they have in their class or how many years they’ve been teaching. You can tell a great teacher by the number of students gathered around their desk throughout the day; they’re the ones still there an hour after school has let out, simply because so many students are waiting.
My great teacher was my 4th year English teacher, Mr. Sanchez. It’s hard to explain what it was about Mr. Sanchez that made him the best teacher in a school of dozens. He certainly wasn’t the easiest – he challenged each and every student to attempt what they thought was impossible, and he never let the ‘smart’ kids’ coast by on their good reputations. Maybe it was his easy way with every kid, regardless of whom they were or where they came from. Maybe it was the way he made everything seem a little more interesting than it probably was. I think it was the whole package: he was the type of teacher who made you care about him and what you were learning.
Mr. Sanchez made a difference in my life because he went out of his way to understand someone who was different. My school wasn’t exceptionally large, but there were certainly enough students to get lost in the crowd. My problem was, it was impossible for me to get lost in that crowd because, early in my life, my teachers found out that I was one of those ‘smart’ kids. Things naturally came easy to me, and I was often called upon to help my classmates when they were having trouble. I was visibly different from all the other kids, and it made a real impact on the way I felt about myself, all the way through school.
Mr. Sanchez acknowledged the fact that I caught onto things easily and he knew that I could get bored with what was going on. He was the first teacher I had who looked past my intelligence to think about me as a person.
I know that Mr. Sanchez touched the lives of hundreds of students. There will, of course, be some who remember him a little more than others because of the special things he did for those who needed it. I know that, for me, my time in Mr. Sanchez’s class changed my life and he’s a big part of the reason with whom and what I am now. He taught me to embrace the way my mind works, and showed me that being different isn’t really a bad thing.
Memories, those times in your life to which you can reflect to at any moment. They're all so precious even some bad ones because they form who you are. When you want to remember someone close to you who may have passed, the memories are bitter sweet. When you reflect on birthday parties, or curling up with your parents when you were once a child. That nostalgia makes a warm smile cast over your face.
Though there are some memories that you might wish to cast from all conciseness, they molded you too. Sometimes I don't like the way something went in my life, but I know that as much as the thought tempts me I wouldn't change a thing.
Now that I am grown up man, I can still remember the days I sat on my Tatay's lap. I can hear him telling the stories of when he was young. They weren't your typical walking ten miles to school in the mountain stories. They held more to the imagination than that. It was my time a time that will never fade into the past.
To my Tatay, I know that I'm still the same little boy I was 16 years ago. Some things never change.
When people look at my Tatay, they only see the pain he lives with. If only they could look further past the surface. Through my eyes, I see the same amount of strength and love that was always inside of him. He has taught me, through his ups and downs that it's what you have at this moment in time that matters. Every few months, we have the same conversation. It starts with him telling me how proud he is of the person I have become. Then it ends quite drastically. He lets me know that his days are numbered there are no guarantees in life. The most important thing to him is being able to see me as often as he can.
Old age with it the strongest sense of fear you ever thought possible. In the blink of an eye, you're thrust into the unknown. The question lingers If there is no tomorrow, will God give us the rest of today? That is what my Tatay lives for. He is determined to make the most out of what time he has left. In his own words, "Life's too short to get worked up over what can't be changed". These are the words to live by.
There is more to my Tatay than any other person in this world. He is the most unselfish and compassionate person that I have ever known. I always tell him how much I love him and thank him for being my tatay. To anyone walking in my shoes, the most important thing to know is that nothing will ever compare to the love of my father.
There is no one in the world who has a mind to think with that has not asked themselves "Why?" I don't mean any specific why, but why everything. Why are people different colors? Why do we destroy the Earth when we know that to do this is to destroy ourselves? Why are we here at all?
Everyone needs to believe that they are here for a reason, even if the reason is just to live for the sake of living, which may be the best reason of all. Without a reason to live, the world is cold, and day-to-day life is painful and tiring.
There was a time when I felt that life was not worth the pain, and every day it got harder to wake up, to face my friends who understood me (although I would not admit it to myself), and to fight the everyday problems that are a part of life. It was the fight that began to give me a reason to live. The fight just to stay alive was the reason I was staying alive. I told myself that I would survive at any cost, and I did.
Now, I know why I am here. I am here to live life as it is, to learn about myself, understand myself: why I fight everything and everyone; why I love the people I do. As long as we understand ourselves and love ourselves for what we are, we don't need a universal reason to live. We can all make our own reasons, anything that keeps us from feeling unimportant and unloved.
By educating ourselves and understanding other peoples' beliefs and values, we can stop being afraid of what we don't know or what isn't familiar to us. When we stop being afraid (and fear can make us hateful), we can stop hurting other people and use that energy to help ourselves. Our own energy that comes from concentrating and thinking can be used to change the world, and make it a place where people can learn about themselves and understand why they are alive
In kindergarten, my class was asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Crayons danced across sheets of paper to illustrate our dream occupations. Our drawings were hung in the hallway for our parents to see at Back to School Night. I remember looking down the line and seeing pictures of ballerinas dancing, firefighters putting out a blaze, and astronauts leaping across the moon – careers that were seen as typical dreams of five-year-olds.
My picture showed a stick figure with brown hair holding a carton of orange juice over a large rectangle that was supposed to be a counter. Underneath was my barely legible handwriting: “When I grow up, I want to work at the Market Basket because it would be fun to swipe orange juice across the scanner.” To this day my parents won’t let me forget that out of everything I could have aspired to be, my five-year-old self wished to work at the local grocery store.
When we are young, questions of what we want to be when we grow up are common. Yet we are not expected to respond with an answer that is likely to come true. However, when we become teens, we are asked the very same question twice as often. The difference is, now we are supposed to answer with confidence.
Teens are expected to know exactly what we want to be and how we are going to achieve that goal. Not all of us can be so sure. Even though I am a nurse alread, I still cannot answer convincingly. But I don’t consider that a bad thing. How am I supposed to know what I will want to spend my time doing at age 40?
When I think about the future, I definitely don’t see myself working at the Market Basket, but in reality, if that was what would make me happy, I would do it. So, the next time someone asks me what I want to be when I grow up, I will simply say “happy.”
Happiness is a destination for everyone. We may want to walk different paths in life, but we all want to be happy wherever we end up. Choose your path, but don’t worry too much about choosing wisely. Make a mistake or two and try new things. But always remember, if you’re not happy, you’re not at the end of your journey yet.
The end of any relationship is difficult, whether you've spent years together or just a few months. Love isn't put to rest overnight and can linger long after you've said goodbye. Some experts say it takes half as long as the relationship lasted to process it and move on. Others say grief holds itself unaccountable and to no specific timetable, that it can go on for months and years. Rather than the duration of your time spent with each other, it is the quality, the intensity, of this time that will dictate the length and breadth of grief. A few shorts weeks with a woman you felt a true connection with might be much harder to get over than a man you liked and were with for years, but never quite meshed with. Both relationships might've been viable at one time, yet both led to the same place anyway - saying goodbye. And it is in the parting (yes, parting is such sweet sorrow. Or, sometimes, parting is such sweet relief!) where you can begin again. Except of course if you aren't really ready to say goodbye.
Breakups can be brutal, on both sides. Usually, because of a shared history and strong emotional connections, the one leaving doesn't want to hurt the one being left, and the one being left doesn't want to be let go. Those early, pure feelings of desire, which brought you two together, become tangled up in ego, in resentment and pride and the need for self-protection. You close up and off. You turn away from what you admired and respected in the other, because it's just too damn painful to see it and know that it wasn't enough, that in the end you just "weren't feeling it."
If you are the one leaving, be kind. Make the end as clean and clear as possible. Or, as a good friend of mine says, "Be sure to use a sharpened machete, not a rusty butter knife." If you cut it off, make sure that it stays off. There's nothing worse than a wishy-washy breakup. If this is what you really want, then be strong in your convictions, because the other will go on hoping against hope that you'll eventually wake up and change your mind, that you'll see what you're missing and come back around. Sometimes, you will, only to leave again. Sometimes, you won't, and regret it.
If you are the one being left, be kind to yourself. Everyone will tell you not to take it personally and you shouldn't. Try to separate your wounded ego from the reality of the situation - that for whatever reason, this other person simply didn't want what you wanted at the exact same time. I hate to reduce good, productive relationships down to timing, but more often than not, timing is all we really have to go on. If he wasn't in the right place in his life, there's nothing you could've done to change that. Patience might win out in the end, but then again, so does resentment. You can only wait around so long for someone to get his act together before you realize that "getting his act together" is just an act and that you deserve far more than this.
Do not make someone a priority, if he only makes you an option. And that goes for the grief you will feel as well. Try to contain it. Let it preoccupy you less and less each day. Give it a few minutes and stick to those minutes. Remove old photos, erase voice messages, cards, trinkets, any object that reminds you of him or her. At least for now. Later, much later, you might look back fondly on what was, but right now, you've got to let go of what isn't. If it's a nice day, go fly a kite, take a walk on the beach, look at some art. Find what makes you happy again, because that's who she fell in love with to begin with. And that's who you are anyway, even if you can't see yourself clearly through the tears. But you will. You will.
The feeling of falling in love is one of the most exciting, thrilling and life changing events. Falling in love can change your entire outlook on life. Falling in love can occupy your mind and seem to take away all of life's problems. However, falling in love can bring about a serious problem of endless heartaches if a person falls in love too fast. Let us look at what brings about the feeling of needing to fall in love, what defines true love and the string of broken hearts that can occur if one falls in love too quickly.
With these key elements examined, a person may realize that they are too rapidly generating the feeling of falling in love, and in doing so, producing unfortunate consequences. A life filled with a great amount of broken hearts predictably points to a great amount of relationships in which the person fell in love too quickly. Once acknowledged as a source of heartaches, one can achieve a more realistic approach to falling in love and finding someone special.
The majority of adult single people undoubtedly desire the ultimate feeling of being in love with another person. Instilled in people's minds is that love will bring happiness, safely and security. Most people are witness to a loving relationship from a very young age, as we witness the love of our parents. As adults, the media overwhelms us with love stories. Countless advertising bombards us to find love. When one is single, it may seem that everywhere they look; there are couples holding hands, talking and laughing together. This can produce an overpowering desire for a person to find love.
Without these fundamentals in place, having the feelings of falling in love exceedingly prematurely can result in needless heartbreaking outcomes. It is true that being single can sometimes produce intense feelings of loneliness. These feelings of solitude and wanting acceptance into a loving relationship can make one push for a relationship that is not correct for them. Beginning to spend time with another, sometimes a person will mistake the feeling of acceptance for the feeling of love. Love is not something easily obtained. For long periods, love can escape us, as we search for that someone special that we wish for in our lives.
Telling yourself that you are in love, does not create love. If not all of the essentials of genuine love are in place, convincing yourself that you are in love does not magically produce those necessary elements. If in almost every relationship you enter, you fall in love within a couple weeks or even days, you must ask yourself; are you really in love?
Undoubtedly, falling in love produces a magnificent euphoric high. The emotion of finding one's "soul mate" fulfills a deep desire to bond with someone. True love is such a rare find. In terms of realistic expectations, one simply cannot sincerely be in love with every person they meet or date. Allowing yourself to feel you are in love with almost everyone you connect with, in a small measure of time, only will lead to ultimate disappointment. Sincerely asking yourself the question, "Was it really true love?" may give you the knowledge that perhaps you did not actually experience love. This is not to imply you did not admire someone, like spending time with him or her or had lust for him or her. However, did real love exist? Comprehending that it did not, may lessen the sense of feeling betrayed and the feeling of being wounded from relationships gone astray.
To free yourself from being the victim of lost "love", give yourself the time to unequivocally get to know and appreciate someone, allowing love to happen in it's own due course. Do not impulsively rush into a state of feeling in love. Seriously consider all of the factors that ensure a real and lasting love. Give this feeling time to develop. Only then, can you truly know that you are in love.
And even when they do, they only stay for a while. You'll only realize they're gone when they've already left. You'd never know that they have their other foot outside the door all the time.
When strangers come to your life, be careful of trusting them your heart. You'll never know they'll leave like thieves in the middle of the night, stealing a part of you and all that's left is your shattered heart.
People come and go. Never wish for them to stay. Because they never will. When they have no reasons to stay.
Lying down beside me, my mother softly said, "I can’t tell you why, but if you guess it I won’t say no." I was 11 years old, and my picture-perfect life had unraveled in the past six months. But finally, perhaps, I would discover why my father had left. "Is it another woman?" I asked. "No," she responded in a peculiar way. Laughingly I retorted, "Another man?" … and there was silence.
Fifteen years later, that silence still rings in my ears. It is a silence which has changed my life forever, a silence broken only to a few close friends and family members, for fear of what people might think if they knew the truth. When Christians talk about having loved ones who are homosexuals, the conversation nearly always focuses on either what we can do to help that person adjust to their new life, or how we can bring them back into the Kingdom. But few have paid attention to those who are left behind.
After my parents’ separation, my sister and I began spending every other weekend with my father in the city. He shared a condo with a man who had also left his wife and children. The man’s two daughters seemed to have adjusted to the situation. It was as if everything was "normal." But I felt anything but normal. It was as if I had fallen asleep and woken up in a bizarre alternate reality. At the end of the day, my father would not walk into the bedroom with my mom, like he had done only weeks before. Instead, he headed off to bed with a man I had met only days before.
Those weekends were a nightmare for my sister and me. Not only were we forced to leave our mother and friends, but we were placed in a culture we knew nothing about. It was not just a foreign culture; it was one which was anathema to the community in which we were raised. We had gone from the Garden of Eden to Sodom and Gomorrah. How could my father, who once reigned over our Eden, suddenly become a supporter of what we had seen as the enemy?
I was forced to deal with those weekends only for a short time, since a few months later, my mother, sister, and I moved 2,000 miles away from my dad. In many ways, this move made things easier for me. I was no longer forced to face the truth of my dad’s revelations. As much as I hated the fact that my family had not let me in on the secret of my father’s sexuality, I quickly discovered that I was able to find some security by keeping my dad’s identity hidden. As long as nobody else knew about my dad, I was safe from facing the truth head-on. I could live my life as if I was a member of the family on The Cosby Show -- or at least some close dysfunctional relative.
Reality would set in again during the summer when I visited my dad. These were always times of ambivalence because, despite all the pain, I longed to be with my father. Like most sons, I had always wanted to be just like my dad. He was funny and people always seemed to love being around him. But I no longer really knew who my father was. The joy I felt at each joke he told and each person who gathered around him was now tempered by the reality that he was no longer the father I once had. He was no longer my protector from the world, but in fact had become the world. This betrayal was unfathomable to me.
Even in the midst of this betrayal, though, I loved to be held by my dad. I still desired the unique closeness of a father-son relationship. I treasured the times when it was just me and him sitting together on a couch watching a movie. It was wonderful cheering together at a Padres game that I knew he came to only because of my own love for baseball. As difficult as it was to trust or love my father, I hoped for a closer relationship with him.
It didn’t get any easier as I grew older. It wasn’t until my senior year in high school that I told someone about my father. My desire for security finally gave way to my need to be understood. And when I told my girlfriend about my dad, I was relieved to see that she didn’t run away from me and she didn’t accuse me of being gay. Thankfully, she did not treat me like I was strange -- though I certainly felt I was.
It was even more difficult to tell my male friends about my dad. I was petrified that if I told them I would be accused of being "queer" -- not the sort of reputation you want to have in high school. If I told them, would they look at me strangely when I gave them a pat on the back after a nice basketball shot?
I did not want to be ostracized simply because my dad was gay, and I wasn’t sure whether people, especially guys, would be able to separate my father’s identity from my own. Moreover, I was frequently reminded of the animosity many felt toward homosexuals. My junior year of college, a group of friends and I were watching an episode of ER in which a homosexual man was dying of AIDS. One of my friends -- a future pastor -- quipped, "I hate it when they show compassion toward them!" My heart sank. How could I tell my friends about my dad?
But the question soon became, how could I not tell them? If these were my best friends and my fellow brothers in Christ, how could I not help them see that homosexuality is more than leather-clad men in a bar?
One night I got the courage to read them a short paper I’d written about my father. It was one of the hardest things I’ve every done. I barely got through the first paragraph before I broke down. But by the time I was finished I saw the compassion in their eyes, and in the days that followed, I saw a change in their words and actions. My friend who had made the ER comment apologized. Others also asked for forgiveness for comments they had made in the past. My story had helped them to understand a different side of homosexuality.
It is this side of the story that I feel compelled to tell. Children of homosexuals have a unique vantage point on the complexities of the issue. Homosexuals are often able to surround themselves with like-minded individuals in the thriving gay culture. Spouses, parents, or siblings of homosexuals do not usually immerse themselves in a homosexual environment once their loved ones "come out." Children, however, are in a sense forced to live a lifestyle they have not chosen. My father has never made me go with him to gay sections of town, but as a child you are emotionally dependent on your parents and do not often feel the right to tell your parent," I don’t want to go to this particular place or meet that particular person."
When I visit my dad I begin to truly understand what it’s like to live as a homosexual. My dad does not take me barhopping to gay taverns at night, but I am basically surrounded by
homosexuals. It’s a strange feeling to be standing on a street corner watching a gay rights parade while your dad laughs hysterically at the "Dykes on Bikes" -- something that, only a few years earlier, you would have been punished for viewing.
This transition has made me leery of putting trust in anyone. As a child, I had placed uncompromising trust in my parents. But since that trust was violated, I’ve found it difficult to put that much faith in anyone’s word, or in their character. Even when all is going well, I constantly guard myself against being too happy, aware that at any second my life could be dismantled again.
Perhaps most saddening to me, and for many other children of homosexuals, is the difficulty I have in trusting the motives of older men. Family experts repeatedly point out that children of divorced parents need to have someone fill in as a father figure. But whenever an older man pays attention to me, as a father would to his son, I am plagued with the fear that he might be gay. It isn’t the most rational fear -- I know that not all gay men are on the prowl for other men -- but it grips me nonetheless.
I am even more troubled when someone says to my dad, "You have a son?" Each time I hear this question I am flooded with insecurities. Is my dad ashamed of me? Why don’t these people know that my dad has two children? Since he isn’t proud of his heterosexual marriage, wouldn’t he also be embarrassed by me? If my sister and I are the only connection he has with his past, are we a thorn in his side every time he sees us? Nobody wants to be reminded of a past they’re ashamed of. Why should I think my dad would be any different? And when homosexuals come out of the closet, why shouldn’t they wish that their skeletons would stay inside? It’s not easy being a skeleton.
Likewise, it would be easy for me to be ashamed of my dad. But I, and others in my situation, have something more than shame to bring to the conversation between homosexuals and the church. By spending time with my father and his friends, I know firsthand what it means to be surrounded by people who don’t share many of my basic desires, tastes, passions, and struggles. It is at least a taste of the sort of isolation homosexuals must feel living in a heterosexual world.
Similarly, I probably have a greater appreciation of the fear homosexuals must have of telling their parents that they are gay. I know how fearful I am of telling my father what I believe about his lifestyle. What if he refuses to have anything to do with me because of what I believe? I have already missed out on a lot of my dad’s life as it is, and I am not eager to strain a relationship that has had many bumps and bruises. I can only imagine the despair homosexuals must feel in revealing themselves to their parents.
But in spite of all I’ve learned, there is much that I still don’t -- and may not ever -- understand about homosexuality. Homosexuality runs deep; it is not something that can be chalked up as merely a surface desire or a simple, conscious choice. It seems to me that we need to spend less time worrying about the origins of homosexuality and more time caring for homosexuals.
I would be lying, though, to say that I now have such compassion for homosexuals that I am completely comfortable in their world. It is hard for me to sit in the same room with my father as he cuddles with another man; hard to drive around with him as he comments on what a good-looking guy we just passed; hard to walk together through a gay section of town, knowing that people on the street might think that we’re lovers. But I put myself in these situations because I love my father, and because I want to know him, even the parts of him that I disagree with, the parts that have hurt me deeply.
I’ve been in these places, as have many other children of homosexuals, but I have been there alone -- in part because I was ashamed, and in part because I didn’t see that the church was particularly interested in going there with me. Even as I make my story known, part of me wonders whether there will be some who will look at me strangely, checking my mannerisms for signs of "gayness." Still, I believe that the children of homosexuals have much to offer. It is much easier to hate, or misunderstand, someone you have no connection to than someone you see as your friend’s parent.
Ever since the day I learned the truth about my dad, I have taken Romans 8:28 to heart: "All things work together for good to those who love the Lord." For me, I think part of this good comes in telling my story. Other than my sister, I have met only one person who I know is in the same situation as I am. That meeting was historic to me, and it brought a sense of understanding that I had not felt before. I hope that the church can become a community where more of these meetings can take place and where Christians will join me, and those in similar situations, in our difficult and often complex call to love.
