when i was in middle school, i was made fun of. a lot.
middle school and part of high school were hell on earth that included insults about my appearance, my gait, my name... people "outing" me with their taunts... girls stealing my purse in gym class and flushing the contents they didn't want... a girl threatening me while other girls surrounded me so i couldn't leave for safety... a sucker punch to my jaw from a bully i had stood up to earlier in the day...
my momma had quippy little sayings to try to make me feel better. things like:
"they get in their clothes just the same as you."
and
"charity, honey, they are just jealous."
and
(my personal favorite)
"their poop stinks too."
my momma is a sage.
i realize that lately, my posts have been more ringing of the visionary within me. the peace seeker and the one who dreams of true reconciliation and of the victory of love being seen day by day.
today, however, i think i have more questions. more pangs. more heartache and just, well downright fatigue to be honest. i'm really struggling here.
in the description of this blog, i speak about reconciliation and hope. in the subtitle of the book i am working on, (for which the blog is an outlet to formulate ideas and wording), i talk about moving together toward reconciliation.
the question heavy on my mind tonight as i fold and hang laundry, pick up shoes, and try to get in my daily intake of water:
is it ok to just let people go? is it ok to stop trying? when?
this has always been hard for me. i've always been the type to let people walk all over me. to which my momma always said, "charity, honey, God doesn't make doormats."
i know i'm not a doormat. but do i really know it? do i know my true worth? do i treat myself as the beloved God knows me as? or do I allow people to walk all over me?
turning the cheek. and turning the cheek. and turning the cheek.
there's a line in a civil rights movie, the ernest green story. a young black man has grown weary and was caught fighting. when he is confronted and told to turn the other cheek, he asks "what do you do when you run out of cheeks?"
my heart cries the same question.
i've been waking a lot lately and thinking about this. it keeps me up at night. and i have been thinking about just how vocal and upfront and honest i should be. how things i have said were ok really and truly are not ok.
people who have played big roles in my life have stopped contacting me, responding to my attempts to contact. ever since i have been with my fiance. their absence is evident and felt when i think of the roster of people who have expressed their excitement and joy for me and my engagement.
people who do not know me well have sent me messages (some hateful, some civil) that have let me know they do not "approve" or "agree" with "my lifestyle."
friends... have sent me emails saying the same thing. with the words "i love you" added in.
it isn't ok. not any of it. even if i said it was. it is not ok. it hurt me. and it angered me. and it still does.
i try to look at it differently... because i know for one it was out of concern and her doing what she really thought was right. but what makes me more apt to tolerate her message is that she has never shied away from telling me anything that she sees might be a block in my relationship with God. and i have done the same for her. i love her, and i know she loves me, and our relationship has included a strong element of accountability and prayer and encouragement. i let her know i love her for always, even though i disagree with her when it comes to my relationship with my fiance. so, kindred, you know this is not directed at you.
so now i am thinking... it's time to let some people go. to stop tiring myself by pouring into people who do not embrace me and D. it's time for me to stop crying over those whose love has been limited and to start rejoicing over the great love and friendship i have in many others. it's time for me to stop turning and laying down for people to walk on me.
i get in my clothes just like everyone else. God didn't make me to be a doormat, and i am so loved.
i don't live an "alternative lifestyle" or whatever this elusive "gay lifestyle" is.
we make soup. walk the dog. worry about paying our bills. laugh at comedies. cry when people hurt us. read christian books while drinking coffee in the mornings. scoop the cat litter. get excited when we open a new bottle of coffee creamer. mow the lawn. and poop just like everyone else.
we are boring. we are normal.
and completely in love with one another.
and we are beloved. daughters of the living God we love and serve.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
headdress
i have so much to say this morning. so much has been happening.
in ways great and small.
in private sacred moments with one other.
in public sacred moments with many.
i have been thinking about shame, and pride.
the pride that, as the avett brothers sing, is the good kind,
not the kind in the bible that makes you bad.
and i've been thinking about that good kind of pride and it's opposition to shame.
and that third factor which enables pride to overcome shame,
enables us to see ourselves as we are seen by God:
love.
i am reading brennan manning's abba's child, and there is much he says and quotes about false selves and about being our true selves before God.
our ordinary,
beloved selves.
there is, of course, another dimension to this realization of love:
extending it.
i was met with such great love and affectionate holding arms when i told my beloved fiance the things that i am most afraid and ashamed of. she didn't push me away. she pulled me closer in a beautiful and incredibly healing embrace. something fell off of me and broke in that moment. something dark and heavy. and now i feel lighter, freer and more connected.
inspired.
love overcame shame. and i am proud of the love and healing. proud of our relationship. proud of her Christ-likeness as she spills out his love through her heart. proud of Christ and of his great challenge to us to love, really love.
this past weekend, i also attended my first ever gay pride festival. it was very small. about 1100 people total came through on sunday. there were so many families with kids. it was incredibly encouraging.
small town gay pride reflects a silent majority. we aren't the stereotypes. no one was walking around naked or barely clothed. no one was doing anything obscene. it was mostly quiet and peaceful.
just a bunch of people, gathering, even though we were mostly disjointed, sharing a common solidarity. seeking acceptance and love for our homes, our families.
to be honest, it was kind of boring sometimes.
boring, and so normal.
of course, it wasn't perfect. or all sacred. there was the profane co-existing with the sacred as it is in all of life...
there were things said and sung that i didn't like. just like when i turn on the radio to any mainstream station and even christian stations and hear songs about objectifying others, objectifying the Church, seeking temporal things: like power, money, a good time, a temporary "encounter" of the sexual or spiritual kind. empty songs. sung by the seeking that have not yet found grace and love. real love.
what surpised me the most was the feelings i had during the last event which took place at night. a big show in the outdoor plaza downtown where everything else had taken place... a drag show.
i had never seen a drag show, and honestly i had a lot of unsure feelings about it and some prejudgments about the whole concept of drag.
i do not like objectification of people. i do not like seeing people's bodies on display. i hate the pornography industry and anything dealing with the sex trade. that said, this is not what the show i saw on saturday night was.
i saw something beautiful, and it caught me off guard so badly that i cried.
there was one moment in particular that moved me, and i still tear up talking about it. one of the earlier performers was a popular drag queen in the local community. i had heard stories about her and how much people like her, so i was curious.
when she entered the stage, she had on a brightly colored outfit that included what i have labeled as the most beautiful piece of pride attire i have ever seen. it was an elaborate and expansive rainbow headdress.
yellow, blue, green, orange, red, and purple shook and shimmered.
it was like someone was screaming, "i am beautiful, and i am loved, and so are you!" everytime a feather waved in the air.
it spoke to me. it spoke for me.
it sang my song of finding love and freedom and grace and of reconciling my faith, my relationships, my journey, and my true self all into one me. the me i was made to be.
it was a crown of pride.
the good kind of pride.
the kind that inspires hope.
and loving.
and reconciling.
and writing this, today.
sharing.
with you.
may you find your pride.
and wear that love on your sleeves, your feet, your head, your hands.
and share it. wherever you may go.
may it sing a song of finding grace and love,
with every move you make.
may it comfort the broken and challenge the false,
and may it inspire hope, loving, reconciling, writing, sharing,
and more singing.
in ways great and small.
in private sacred moments with one other.
in public sacred moments with many.
i have been thinking about shame, and pride.
the pride that, as the avett brothers sing, is the good kind,
not the kind in the bible that makes you bad.
and i've been thinking about that good kind of pride and it's opposition to shame.
and that third factor which enables pride to overcome shame,
enables us to see ourselves as we are seen by God:
love.
i am reading brennan manning's abba's child, and there is much he says and quotes about false selves and about being our true selves before God.
our ordinary,
beloved selves.
there is, of course, another dimension to this realization of love:
extending it.
i was met with such great love and affectionate holding arms when i told my beloved fiance the things that i am most afraid and ashamed of. she didn't push me away. she pulled me closer in a beautiful and incredibly healing embrace. something fell off of me and broke in that moment. something dark and heavy. and now i feel lighter, freer and more connected.
inspired.
love overcame shame. and i am proud of the love and healing. proud of our relationship. proud of her Christ-likeness as she spills out his love through her heart. proud of Christ and of his great challenge to us to love, really love.
this past weekend, i also attended my first ever gay pride festival. it was very small. about 1100 people total came through on sunday. there were so many families with kids. it was incredibly encouraging.
small town gay pride reflects a silent majority. we aren't the stereotypes. no one was walking around naked or barely clothed. no one was doing anything obscene. it was mostly quiet and peaceful.
just a bunch of people, gathering, even though we were mostly disjointed, sharing a common solidarity. seeking acceptance and love for our homes, our families.
to be honest, it was kind of boring sometimes.
boring, and so normal.
of course, it wasn't perfect. or all sacred. there was the profane co-existing with the sacred as it is in all of life...
there were things said and sung that i didn't like. just like when i turn on the radio to any mainstream station and even christian stations and hear songs about objectifying others, objectifying the Church, seeking temporal things: like power, money, a good time, a temporary "encounter" of the sexual or spiritual kind. empty songs. sung by the seeking that have not yet found grace and love. real love.
what surpised me the most was the feelings i had during the last event which took place at night. a big show in the outdoor plaza downtown where everything else had taken place... a drag show.
i had never seen a drag show, and honestly i had a lot of unsure feelings about it and some prejudgments about the whole concept of drag.
i do not like objectification of people. i do not like seeing people's bodies on display. i hate the pornography industry and anything dealing with the sex trade. that said, this is not what the show i saw on saturday night was.
i saw something beautiful, and it caught me off guard so badly that i cried.
there was one moment in particular that moved me, and i still tear up talking about it. one of the earlier performers was a popular drag queen in the local community. i had heard stories about her and how much people like her, so i was curious.
when she entered the stage, she had on a brightly colored outfit that included what i have labeled as the most beautiful piece of pride attire i have ever seen. it was an elaborate and expansive rainbow headdress.
yellow, blue, green, orange, red, and purple shook and shimmered.
it was like someone was screaming, "i am beautiful, and i am loved, and so are you!" everytime a feather waved in the air.
it spoke to me. it spoke for me.
it sang my song of finding love and freedom and grace and of reconciling my faith, my relationships, my journey, and my true self all into one me. the me i was made to be.
it was a crown of pride.
the good kind of pride.
the kind that inspires hope.
and loving.
and reconciling.
and writing this, today.
sharing.
with you.
may you find your pride.
and wear that love on your sleeves, your feet, your head, your hands.
and share it. wherever you may go.
may it sing a song of finding grace and love,
with every move you make.
may it comfort the broken and challenge the false,
and may it inspire hope, loving, reconciling, writing, sharing,
and more singing.
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