Rants of a Politically Incorrect LGB Person: Conserving Liberalism

"Today, my message concerns such good and religious-minded people who have stopped attending or participating in their churches.  When I say “churches,” I include synagogues, mosques, or other religious organizations. We are concerned that attendance in all of these is down significantly, nationwide." - President Dallin H. Oaks, "The Need for a Church," General Conference, October 2021

"We shall see in our time a maximum if indirect effort to establish irreligion as the state religion.  It is actually a new form of paganism that uses the carefully preserved and cultivated freedoms of Western civilization even as it rejects value-essence of our Judeo-Christian heritage." -Elder Neal A. Maxwell, "Meeting the Challenges of Today," October 10, 1978 (later referenced by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland.

For a while now, religious leaders have expressed concern the departure of younger generations from organized religion, or from religion and spirituality in general.  What I have to say however, is still resonant with many people of a variety of religious beliefs, including atheism.

As I've listened to various people (mostly liberal thinkers) push back against Social Justice ideology, I've noticed a trend.  As people leave religion behind, there seems to be a contingent who find that there is a void where their faith used to be.  It's like there's a human need to believe in something, to fight for something or find purpose and meaning in something.  In comes Social Justice ideology to help fill that void.  It provides something to focus on, believe in and a feeling that you are a "good person."  Yet I've found that it has transformed into something (and I realize this is a strong claim) godless and ugly.  Don't get me wrong though, as I mentioned before, there are still people from a variety of belief systems that have noticed this trend.  I follow some atheists who have noticed this as well (I greatly admire Bret Weinstein and Heather Heying, evolutionary biologists, left-leaning, and who have also been victims of Social Justice ideology...learn about their story here).  

The Social Justice that I speak of is entrenched in identity politics and, more broadly, identity essentialism.  Characteristics, like skin color, gender, sexual orientation, are seen as the primary definition of who someone is.  They must think and act a certain way (and of course, white people are given a list of certain characteristics that define "whiteness") and when they depart from the ideological box they are "aligning with the oppressor" or "enacting whiteness."  Asians, since they tend to excel, are often accused of "enacting whiteness."  The same, or something similar, goes for Jewish people.  People like this are "problematic" to the Social Justice cause because they (generally) don't fit neatly into the racial hierarchy which, although it may have been constructed in the past...the Social Justice ideology feeds off of.

It is now viewed as acceptable to turn on white men, bully them, blame them for everything and disregard what they have to say.  The same is true for anyone in any demographic that departs from the narratives that the mob endorses.  We see some of this with J.K. Rowling, a prominent feminist, who acknowledges the biological reality of sex and gender, men and women (and yet she leaves a lot of room and sympathy for the reality transgender people face as well).  A similar thing happened recently with Dave Chappelle.  Since this is a case about transgender ideology, I'll mention that many who are actually transgender are not on board with some of this post-modern madness.  On any given "social justice" topic, you'll find people in minority groups who disagree and have very different views.

To illustrate some of the religious-style fervor, I once made a half-joke about my "minority privilege" on a post about pronouns (because I can see the oppression Olympics that some people talk about...the idea that the more intersectional "oppressed" identities you have, the more you're allowed to speak and have a voice).  This wasn't a huge deal, but I was called out on my privilege joke and it was as if I had violated something sacred.  I was then "educated" on how listing our pronouns helps transgender people and how coming out as "straight" would be more welcoming to gay people.  Some people might resonate with that.  I don't.  I'm a gay man, but if someone doesn't feel like coming out or identifying as "straight" and/or list their pronouns in their social media bios, I don't think they should have to.  Compelled speech does not come from a place of compassion and understanding, and I believe it can turn people even more against each other.

Getting back to a broader view of Social Justice language: of course, saying someone is gay, black, transgender, white, female, Latino, etc. doesn't automatically refer to these ideological boxes.  For many liberals and conservatives, these are just adjectives that describe a part of who we are, and it still leaves a lot to our various individual experiences and beliefs.

Some say that to criticize Social Justice ideology or Critical Race Theory is to deny the oppression of the past or legitimate injustices that occur today.  I very much disagree.  I believe that is part of the manipulation.  On the flip side, there is pressure to acknowledge past injustices and keep acknowledging it over and over and over again (I'm thinking of comments like, "but you have to acknowledge that black people have not had it so good in past decades").  It seems like this ideology is determined to live in the misery of the past and ignore the opportunities that lay before us now.  Part of the Civil Rights movement (I believe) and part of true liberalism was to free up the individual.  Individuals have such a wide variety of belief systems and ways of viewing the world.  There is a wide array of philosophies, religious beliefs and practices from which to oppose racism and other forms of discrimination (although some people view the church I belong to, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, as presently and fundamentally sexist and homophobic...we're going to have to disagree). 

Many in America were born and raised to "not be racist," to value individuals and see each other's character and divine identity.  It definitely seems like the right thing to do is to believe every single claim of racism, sexism and other forms of discrimination.  Unfortunately, I have grown leery of such claims because of faked hate crimes and (moreover) post-modern interpretations and re-definitions of racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, etc.  According to Robin Di'Angelo, author of White Fragility and Nice Racism, racism is the ordinary state of affairs in society, all white people have to do something outside of their normal lives in order to undo racism.  All white people are "born into white supremacy" and need to engage in a lifelong pursuit of "undoing their racism."  I can understand this ideology.  I can respect someone's right to believe in it, but that doesn't mean I have to believe in all of it for myself.

Therefore, when President Biden says that white supremacy is the biggest threat in our country, what does he mean?  Is it this new, post-modern view of identity categories and hierarchies, or is it actual white supremacists enacting hate and violence on people (unfortunately, there are some white identitarians trying to take advantage of common-sense people who are in opposition to Critical Race Theory...watch Karlyn Borysenko for more on that)?  Perhaps the messaging is the latter.  Perhaps left-wing news sources cover and blow up actual instances of racist violence from white people.  In that case, the media, especially social media, is giving us all two (or more) very different stories of our country.

Through many of the voices I've listened to over the last couple of years...liberal voices...I've learned that there seems to be a departure from true liberalism.  Dave Rubin is one of those voices who helped open my eyes as to what was going on.  He brought up the mantra "I may disagree with what you say, but I will fight for your right to say it."  That idea is under attack (in the form of labeling wrong thinking as "racist," "sexist," "transphobic," "homophobic," etc.).  I was once labeled homophobic (even in a nice, polite way) for believing in and defending traditional principles about the nuclear family.  Yet with people like Dave Rubin, I reckon we could have a decent conversation and unite on common ground (and he wouldn't call me homophobic).

Bari Weiss, former New York Times op-ed editor, and now my favorite Jewish lesbian, also comments on this departure from liberalism.  After her resignation from The New York Times she made some very powerful statements, a commentary on a "liberal order" that Republicans, Democrats, liberals and conservatives largely agreed to uphold: That all people are equal on the basis that we are created in the image of God, the "sacredness of the individual over the group," (righteous) judgment of people based on their character and their works, and not their lineage or skin color, equality under the law and not equality of outcome (equity).  This is from a larger article about Anti-Semitism from both the Left and the Right.  Her article is here.

The fact that someone I probably disagree with on a lot said something so resonant with me reminds me of an America I remember growing up with, where everyone had a common identity as fellow Americans and children of Heavenly Parents.  I remember learning about racism and slavery and Jim Crow laws and segregation.  I remember, in large part, that having been in the past and that we could move forward in a world trying (however imperfectly) to live out the dream of Martin Luther King Jr.

On a recent podcast with journalist, Megyn Kelly (can be found here), former Democratic presidential candidate, Tulsi Gabbard, claims that race and identity politics are being used intentionally to divide us.  So often when I hear "unity" I think, "they really mean that those of us...usually on the Right but sometimes on the Left...need to concede and give in to this identity essentialism," but when I hear people like Tulsi, like Bari, like Bret and Heather, speak out against that ideology, I have more hope that perhaps we don't all need to get into this identitarian totalitarianism.  

One reason Social Justice and "Wokeism" is seen as a religion unto itself is because of the cult-like culture (and cancel culture); things you are and are not supposed to say or do.  Keri Smith and Carter Laren, on the Unsafe Space podcast, call it a cathedral.  Some people who have been disenchanted with religion are now also disenchanted with woke culture.  It's been interesting to see how people of many different belief systems and religions (including those who are not religious) have been uniting against what I believe to be a toxic culture.  One Instagram friend/acquaintance, after being chewed up and spat out by Leftism, reached out to me and said that she might actually believe in God again.  Dave Rubin, an awesome dude with an awesome husband, has made a sort of shift from Atheism to a belief in a Higher Power.  This inspires me greatly.

I'm told I'm a conservative, but I don't agree with everyone I follow or everything on the conservative platform (I can't even say I know what that all entails).  Some of the black conservatives I follow (in my opinion) have gone too far, although I appreciate their own experiences as part of a swath of diversity of thought.  It's possible that some are receiving media calling out all the problems on the Right.  I don't deny it.  I could go on a rant about some of those too, even though I lean in that direction.  I don't agree with everyone I've referenced in this post (mostly liberals who are now seen by the Left as "alt-right.")  But I hope to be able to stay in the space that Bari Weiss so masterfully alluded to: We are human beings created in the image of God.

There was a time when I was annoyed with those who kept saying "you are so much more than your sexuality!"  I still validate that at the time that's what I felt, and many who said that simply didn't understand where I was at the time.  But now that is what is keeping me sane.  We are all so much more than our immutable characteristics.  Although important and do add to our life experience, too much focus on them also has the potential to divide us.

To return to President Oaks' address on religion, he says, 

"If we cease valuing our churches for any reason, we threaten our personal spiritual life, and significant numbers separating themselves from God reduce His blessings to our nations.

"Attendance and activity in a church help us become better people and better influences on the lives of others. In church we are taught how to apply religious principles. We learn from one another. A persuasive example is more powerful than a sermon. We are strengthened by associating with others of like minds. In church attendance and participation, our hearts are, as the Bible says, “knit together in love (Colossians 2:2).”

I think this speaks to a larger threat that I don't feel like I have the ability to address.  I can't say I even know what it is, but part of a prophet's duty is to raise a warning voice.  I don't know this for sure, but I sometimes wonder if hardline, Social Justice ideology could be one of those things.  It could be one of the consequences of departing from an organized religion or another connection to God that helps us see each other as the divine beings that we are.

I daresay that I've experienced some trauma and some self-censoring as a result of Social Justice ideology.  There are some things, some legitimate issues having to do with injustice and unfairness that I don't know how to address.  I can't debate and discuss everything.  I understand bias exists but is so nuanced and individual.  I'm just trying to be a good person.  For this reason, I am thankful to belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, a group of people from many different backgrounds and "identities" (although I hate saying that word now) who are unified in Christ and in our covenants with Him.

My Own "Safe Space"

 Even though I may still deny it or resist it, some aspects of Pride Month have afforded me the opportunity to express what I have to express.  This year has led to a lot of reflections and questions, and no, I don’t have all the answers.  One big thing is, however, I realized that I’m not really anyone else but myself all year long.  Even though I may behave differently at…say…a North Star Conference than I do at church.  I’m still “myself” in either place.  I’m still working on bridging those two areas of my own life (and a lot of that rests on me), but I’m not really hiding much from any of the groups I belong to.

            Isn’t that what “normalization” is supposed to be?  Already seeing something in your life as “normal?”  To me it seems like some narratives and institutions thrive on homosexuality, or simply the reality of experiencing same-sex attraction, being “not normal.”  I believe that in a way, there are some forces that want us to remain under the belief that we are terribly oppressed.  That way the narratives and the power struggles can remain alive.  I don’t know.  That’s just one way of looking at it.

            This year’s Pride Month stirred up a bunch of the feelings I usually go through every single year.  Unlike the connotations I used to associate with the words “gay,” “homosexuality,” “queer,”etc., the connotations around LGBT Pride have been rather sticky.  They haven’t shifted much.  I’m fully aware that they have changed for some, or perhaps they were never an issue with others.  Yet for me, it’s rather conflicting.  I feel rather removed from Pride.  So much of my support system relied on living the gospel and by happenstance, sharing a certain distain for Pride and mainstream LGBT narratives.

            I was hoping the Church could come up with something equally celebratory, but separate and different from Pride.  Without meaning to sound self-righteous…I was hoping for something special for LGBT people who try to keep covenants and espouse traditional views of marriage.  I don’t know if that’s self-righteous or exclusionary, but it’s how I’ve felt.  Or at least I think so.  I still don’t even understand all the baggage I’ve built up around gay Pride.

            I’m still trying to process how gay Pride has become morally neutral for so many.  More and more fellow Latter-day Saints are donning rainbows so that “the LGBTQ community” can know that they’re loved.  It’s kind of throwing me for a loop, and it’s not in a relieving, “feeling supported” kind of way.  Not to take away from anyone who actually feels a bunch of warm, loving feelings upon seeing a rainbow, but this is my blog, and these are my messy feelings.  I try to be polite, but then there’s a feeling in my gut that I hardly feel like I can tell anyone about (except for my politically incorrect, “alt-right” Instagram account…I exaggerate, but some might actually see it that way).  They’ll just try to talk me out of it.  My thoughts aren’t always about them, but the questions that come up are the familiar refrains:

            “What am I missing?”  “What’s wrong with me?”  “Why don’t I feel the same about gay Pride so many others seem to be feeling?”

            Some might characterize my resistance to Pride as “homophobia.”  The thing is, I know what that feels like.  Some have characterized even the very beliefs of traditional marriage and chastity as “homophobia,” and I just don’t know what to say to that.  I don’t agree.  However, I’m acquainted with the process of self-acceptance.  I’m acquainted with the idea of “internalized homophobia.”  I may still have yet to face various elements of acceptance of myself…but I believe that to be a human thing that a lot of people probably deal with.

            No, the struggle of acceptance was accepting that I simply have different feelings about gay Pride than others.  It just is what it is.  It doesn’t take away from the desire to have a celebration, to have a month of specialness, to have a huge portion of corporate America throw out rainbows and tailor their advertisements to my kind of gay love.  Perhaps that’s why I feel like LGBT people in my situation are the “new oppressed minority” (either that or we’re just “normal” and don’t stand out).  Perhaps this is why modern-day gay Pride feels like “special treatment” instead of “equality,” regardless of the history of Pride.

            I’ve often said that I would gladly attend a “straight Pride” parade.  I know what people say; that they don’t need one and that I need to “educate” myself as to why.  I know that some of them are more like “anti-gay Pride” as opposed to actual pride in one’s own straight sexuality.  I get that, but if it were the latter, I’d be right there, hand in hand with a guy friend holding a sign that says, “Yes!  We think you should celebrate yourselves too!”  Again, I don’t know why I feel this way.  Maybe I want to be a “gay ally to straight people.”  In an age of “equality,” it seems like there should be no problem with this.

            Since the rainbow symbol still signals to me approval of gay marriage and gay sex (notice I said, “to me.”  I’m just talking about me), seeing several from within my Church adopt the rainbow feels like they’re reaching out over people like me.  It’s like bridges are being built, but I’m underneath the bridge.  Even the Church has done its own outreach to various LGBT groups, even publicly.  I would be left feeling like I’m “supposed” to feel awesome about this…but I don’t.  I can’t even explain why all the time.  You know that analogy of being in a room full of people…but you still feel alone?

It also feels like we’ve skipped over the discussion on what we can do as celibate gay members of the Church; the discussions about platonic affection and platonic friendships and relationships.  This is because, of course, the rainbow signals to me something other than those things (even though many LGBT allies will say, “we support you no matter what you choose.”) 

            I even wonder how things will play out in the Church.  We’re told about how the Restoration of the gospel is on-going.  I think I’ve been so glued to the belief that the doctrine of marriage will not change that I’ve been thinking of other ways for gay people to thrive within that line of belief…and that the Church would follow suit.  I haven’t escaped the possibility that I’m wrong, and that those who belief the Church will change this doctrine are right.  In the end I can’t control whatever changes may come and how that will be perceived.  It’s possible that things won’t happen according to “my agenda.” 

            Yeah, I want to be able to be affectionate with men at church.  I want to be able to esteem a male friend in a similar fashion that I would a wife.  If the opportunity comes, yeah, I’d want myself and a same-sex partner (celibate or otherwise) to be accepted in a congregation, regardless of what my temple recommend status is.  I just didn’t think it would be through the means of Pride and rainbows.  I wanted it to be separate from that hullaballoo.  I thought it would be through the genuine goodness I already see in so many members of the Church.  Some of my greatest personal “allies” haven’t been the ones to wave the Pride flag out their homes or on their clothes.

            If I’m being honest, I often want my involvement in the Church and in my callings to count as “LGBT inclusion.”  I want my ideas of celibate partnership and/or recognized, promise-bound friendship, to be seen as LGBT-affirming ideas, not merely stepping stones or “a step in the right direction.”  But I realize that some believe it only counts if same-sex relationships are seen as exactly the same as marriage between a man and a woman.

            If you’ve made it this far, congratulations!  Your reward is understanding that no, I don’t wish gay Pride would just go away or not exist; just an understanding that there are a whole lot of other LGBT people who exist outside that narrative and who are pioneers in their own right.  I believe expressing my feelings about gay Pride allows me to connect with others who have similar sentiments.  There are even gay people who have different beliefs about marriage than I do…but who have similar conflicts I do every year gay Pride rolls around.  Perhaps it’s a political thing.  I’ve met gay people who feel like the flag of the United States represents them much better than the rainbow flag does.  I’ve met gay people who are even more “conservative” than I am!  They are no less pioneers than others in the LGBT community. 

            I feel like I understand those who say, “What sin are we celebrating next month?”  It may be a narrow view of gay Pride and homosexuality in general, but I still feel like I can talk to them and find commonality in our mutual distaste for various aspects of Pride.  In my experience (and I’ve been told this), knowing about the diversity of thought and perspective among people who are gay/same-sex attracted…leads to a greater understanding among a wider population of “lay” people.  People approach questions like, “Why would someone who believes in marriage between a man and a woman choose to be gay?”  “Why would someone with beliefs in the law of chastity choose to be gay?” 

            Perhaps those of us who are critical of the modern-day Pride celebrations, the publicity stunts and the LGBT political machine are just another swing of the same pendulum.  We’re still helping people understand us better, just from a different angle.  Perhaps people appreciate knowing there are LGBT people who break away from narratives that they feel are being shoved in their face.  I can relate with that!  So no, I don’t know that I want Pride to not exist.  I just know there are more LGBT people who exist outside of that movement who are just trying to live their lives alongside everyone else.  It’s not glamorous, but it’s the life the majority of people live.

"Sides" and Searching for Belonging

 "No sides, only love."

It sounds nice, and I wonder if it's applicable outside of the context in which I so often find myself.  Another example of this could be when larger LGBT Christian communities between Side A and Side B.  Some might say, "Why do we need sides?  Can't we just be one big happy LGBT family?"

I want to say "yes," but wouldn't be completely genuine.  I need sides.  In trying to find friends and support networks, I need to know that my beliefs and values will be supported and not just "tolerated" amidst a larger view that is assumed to be applicable to all LGBT people (I'm imagining going in to some LGBT groups where I can personally believe in sexual stewardship and in marriage between a man and a woman...but the general consensus seems to be the opposite and that the Church should change in this manner).  I could imagine some in these groups saying, "Come in!  We love you! There is room for everyone!"  But once they hear what I think, "OK, you should probably keep that to yourself because people get triggered by that."

One could say that I'm equally triggered, just the other way around.  Like when I hear about how mean and hateful conservatives and the Church are toward gay people.  I don't want to be part of a group where that is all I hear.

I want to find love and intimacy within commonly understood teachings found within the Family Proclamation.  I would want my life companion to share the same beliefs as I do regarding such things (yes, if I were to "do life" with a brother at my side).

I once heard someone (a self-proclaimed straight ally) describe an experience at a certain LGBT LDS-oriented conference.  I guess there was a panel discussion that at the very least included a man in a mixed-orientation marriage and then a lesbian couple.  The man was asked about the sacrifices he made for his relationship and then the two women were asked about the sacrifices they had made.  I guess someone looking from the outside in might see that as an amazing panel discussion, but when I heard about this little exchange, I thought, "What's the point?  Am I supposed to view those situations as equally upheld in the gospel?  In the temple?"  I guess not every LGBT conference (or perhaps very few) or panel discussion is going to affirm church doctrine and treat is as truth.  Perhaps it's a way of showcasing the diversity that can be found in the LGBT community, and I'm all about that, especially politically.

I guess you're in the lens of trying to find support specifically for keeping covenants and navigating love within that context...a panel or conference like that probably isn't the place (even though there are messages like "all are welcome").  

I recently finished one of the memoirs released by Deseret Book about LGBT issues.  I won't say which one.  This brought up a complex set of emotions, of course.  I remember going through many of the same challenges with self-acceptance and trying to make sense of my sexual orientation and the gospel that I felt was true.  Even some of the things he wrote that resonated with me as "true" still made me angry.  I suppose it's because there are some things I wanted to say but didn't have anyone to express them to.  Or...perhaps I simply wanted to be the one to relay the same things this author was saying (don't steal my thunder!).

On the flip side, I noticed that there were some perspectives about which I differ...some of them almost the exact opposite!  For example, I feel more "marginalized" in the LGBT community than I do in the Church.  That doesn't mean I don't still desire companionship or the ability to more comfortably show affection to my boyfriends in public and at church (hey...girls say "girlfriend" all the time, so I think I can have boyfriends...).  But I find that at least on a spiritual level, I share many of the same perspectives and political views of many church members.  And good heavens, if anyone who doesn't fit within a "traditionally marginalized group" (barf), I want to be there for them too!

When I hear calls for "unity" and "safe spaces," I shudder, mostly because I don't know what that looks like.  What kind of unity?  Are we seeking unity in Christ?  Unity in a worldly ideology?  A world where there is no right or wrong?  I can fathom a sense of individual respect, but that's hard to do on a collective, ideological level.  I've been one who would like to see same-sex couples comfortable enough to come to church and participate as much as possible and be supported just like any other family.  Where I take issue is the advocacy and fighting against fundamental church teachings (at least that's what the media likes to spotlight).

I feel a sense of unity when I see other people as children of God.  I the United States I feel a sense of unity when there is a shared love for our country and when we view ourselves as fellow citizens above our other characteristics.  I feel a sense of unity with other gay individuals who share similar political views as I do...even if we differ on things such as marriage.

I recently left a neighborhood where we had a gay couple.  It was great because there was politeness and understanding both ways.  They knew I was gay and had some different perspectives.  I know without a doubt that our other neighbors would run to their defense if there were an act of hate (and to my knowledge, that wasn't needed).  In a way, this couple was an example to me of giving what you hope to receive.  They gave out love and neighborly friendship and that's what they got in return.  It was beautiful.  I'd say there was "unity" in that we shared a community and cared for it together.

Anyway, I'm not as bigoted as I probably sound.  It's understandable that we all want a "safe space" and a place of belonging.  I'm just not sure that it's always going to be within the same organization or "side."

P.S. - All of this just represents my own journey.  Things are in flux.  I don't know where I'll land on all this...if at all.  This is just representative about where I am right now.

The Other Side of the Rainbow

 I'm part of a message group of gay men closely involved with and active in the Church (mostly for game nights and "Come, Follow Me" get togethers).  Last weekend someone sent us all a picture of BYU's "Y" formation on a Provo mountain...and it was adorned with rainbow lights as a shoutout to the LGBTQ+ community (except I still restrict myself to LGBT...the conservative that I am).  At first I thought, "So BYU is willing to don rainbows but won't let men hold hands with each other or develop close, committed friendships?  Something feels backward about that."  I soon found out that BYU did not authorize the lighting of the Y.  Contrary to what many people felt...I felt somewhat relieved.

I reactivated my social media for a minute because sometimes I can't resist (my social media issues are a whole other story).  I saw people sharing it, feeling like they're supporting the LGBT community and thinking it's all amazing (not to take away from their excitement...I just feel like their excitement and drama is more mainstream than otherwise).  Then when BYU announced that they didn't authorize it, it returned to the belief that BYU, and the Church at large "hates" the LGBT community and there's no space for them.  I did another facepalm.

When I say, "the other side of the rainbow," I'm not only referring those "evil straight people" who have gut reactions when they see the rainbow in reference to the LGBT community.  I mean to include gay people as well.  The only explanation the woke mob has for our resistance is that we're homophobic and that those of us who are gay have internalized homophobia.  But that's not it.

Amidst my swirling thoughts I often wondered, "What about those BYU students who are gay...but who don't feel represented by the rainbow?  What about those who are aching to share their positive experiences at BYU even as a gay person?"

It's possible that the connotations of the LGBT rainbow are changing.  Heck, I've used them for my own purposes, whether it's to combine my (former) support of Trump, gay conservatives, or personalizing it in a special way.  Many might tell me that was the original intent of the rainbow, but I disagree.  Often when I see it used in a broad way, it signals to me the approval of gay sex and marriage with little regard to "Side B" gay folks (those who believe in a traditional sexual ethic).  I remember walking hand-in-hand with my guy friends either in New York or in Las Vegas with rainbows flying from various buildings.  I feel some sense of excitement, mostly because I'm able to express myself with a friend...but I'm not aware if these institutions give a crap about gay people with traditional views of marriage and sex, or have any respect for our virtue.  Some might say the rainbow is all encompassing..."be yourself!", but I know gay people who reject it because it feels like a promotion of specific ideologies.  

It just reminds me of people building a bridge over the top of people like me to "show love and support to the LGBT community" and appear inclusive.

I realize I might have my own bitterness and jealousy to deal with.  I want to play an influential role with my unique voice in the Church's views on this topic, but I also want to remain "safe" and in the shadows.  But this is all just how I feel about stuff right NOW (or as of the date of writing this).

Sometimes I think, "If the Church is becoming more willing to willing to throw the LGBT rainbow symbol up on some books, surely it means the Church itself is OK with men holding hands and being affectionate at Church.  Perhaps it means that celibate partnerships are blessed after all, because the rainbow, for me, denotes a couple steps further than what I imagine living a gay life in the Church to be like."

There's also a feeling of being gaslighted.  "I don't automatically feel a bunch of warm fuzzies when I see a rainbow symbol.  What's WRONG with me???"

I will say though, I have been able to have some decent conversations with a few folks.  There can be a lot of understanding each party knows they are seen and heard.  I was asked the question: "What does represent you?"  And that's a good, fair questions!  Aside from Christ (with a normal robe, not a rainbow one) and the temple, I thought of the plain depiction of two men holding hands, perhaps even without any sort of "gay" connotations.  Or men holding each other in a deep embrace.  Those represent me and my values.