PDA

      239 is the number of years that it took the United States to federally recognize marriages that were not heterosexual. Until the year 2015, unions between two men or two women were not considered real "marriages" which explains a simple reality: it will be a long time before gay or lesbian marriages or even LG(BTQA) relationships as a whole will shake their stigmas.

Being a member of the LGBT community has presented me with a more difficult path to owning my identity and becoming comfortable with who I am. I do acknowledge that my experience as a gay man has it's privileges in terms of social acceptance but my experience is no less valid. Like many queer individuals, I grew up in a religious family. More specifically I grew up in the LDS faith (aka as a Mormon). Christian faiths of all kinds script a similar narrative regarding long-term relationships; get married and repopulate the Earth. When you think about the 7 billion people on this earth, such a call seems more like an extra credit assignment than a sound project to keep working on. Having children is not something I am against but if a fraction of the world population doesn't have a child then kudos to them. Many world problems result from a lack of resources to sustain the people already living here.

Growing up I had this notion that I would get married. That I would have eventually have a new home, two fancy automobiles, my white picket fence and children running all over the place while my wife and I tried keeping order. Such an idea is incredibly material/capitalistic but, nonetheless, it is the narrative that was fed to me my whole life. Monogamy was the only "real" relationship worth having and sex was only an act performed to produce children and not be done out of pleasure. Before I even could be in a relationship myself, I already was prescribed specific norms for a relationship.

Lucky for me, I knew from about sixth grade that I wasn't participating in such a story. At least in terms of being in a heterosexual relationship, I just wasn't buying it. I still am unsure about whether I want to be married or if I have just one "soul mate" but I'm young and have many more people to meet and experiences to have. I knew from my earlier years that I found boys more enticing than girls (though all my best friends were girls). Not until the summer after my freshmen year at BYU did I start dating boys but that was because I previously was afraid.

I didn't know how people would react so I kept to myself. Looking back, waiting was best for me. Pleasing others and following what I was told was the way I operated back in the day and it kept me shy and safe. To be honest it was not until I told my parents that I did not want to serve a two year mission for the church that I truly began taking ownership of myself and my choices. Revealing this truth was by far more difficult and tense than coming out of the closet to my parent's if that puts anything in perspective. 

Shortly before coming out in June of 2012 to my parent's I had started a relationship with my first boyfriend. He was incredibly charming and we hit it off quite quickly. He was the first boy I ever truly fell in love with and I was proud to come out to my parent's with such a partner. Over the course of our relationship, however, I hit many real hurtles related to my own identity. To be honest, I regret that there was so much shame I still harbored within myself in that relationship. My discomfort hurt my partner and pushed me into myself.

There was one specific instance that pushed me to really evaluate my identity and my relationship with my first boyfriend. It was the only time I can remember being harassed and although it wasn't a huge event, it still greatly compromised my sense of self. My boyfriend and I were walking through a park in Bellingham, WA on a boardwalk holding hands and chatting happily. As we left the boardwalk to walk up the hill to the car, a few boys began to yell up at us. They called us faggots and kept yelling observations about us being two guys holding hands. The guys were fairly far away from us and we were not physically in danger but it made me realize even in Bellingham- a place I assumed was liberal and accepting- we still could be harassed. It scared me. It made me wonder what could have happened had we been closer to them or what may happen in the future if this was to happen again.

Thinking is a strength and also major weakness of mine and I began to tear myself apart. My partner at the time was concerned. Canada was his home and there gay and lesbian marriages had been legal for some time which explains how people were more accepting of those relationships. I am sure for him, my response seemed unnecessary or over the top. From my current vantage point I can see how this made my partner sad. Sad that I was ashamed of myself and this probably led them to believe I was also ashamed to be seen with them. I wasn't ashamed to be with my partner. He made me incredibly happy and we still share many memories I hold dear but the reality was that I was ashamed of myself. Being intimate with boys was still an idea that I was not comfortable with but it negatively affected me and put strain on our relationship.

Fast forward to now and I definitely am more comfortable with who I am. My most recent relationship I was able to hold hands regularly and be more affectionate in public because I am beginning to realize that sometimes cliches hold some truth: Those that care, don't matter and those that matter, won't care. Shame is a weapon used by certain groups of people to put down others and it's effects are felt by more than just that particular person in the disadvantaged group. Hurting someone else by shaming them brings about self loathing that can make it difficult for that person to love others. As I grow older and become more unapologetic for the way I live my life I hope to shake any traces of shame from my conscience. Although marriage equality does not solve all problems in the LGBTQA community, it at least opens doors for individuals to be more accepting and that will ultimately lift many others (like myself) up.