I’ve been thinking a lot about identity.
This is
partially in response to a pretty prominent Instagram influencer on the more
conservative end of the spectrum. I
actually agree with him on a lot. He was aware of those of us in the Church
experiencing same-sex attraction and such, but in response to almost everything
related to the topic, he kept referring to our primary identities as children
of God. That we shouldn’t be “identifying”
with our “struggles,” “temptations,” or “sexual feelings.” He’s not wrong, but the way he was doing it
seemed at the expense of any conversation or attempt to understand.
So often it
feels like the phrase, “It’s not all of who you are,” or “it’s not your identity”
is an attempt to sidestep a conversation or a quick way to “make it better.” Stuff like this doesn’t always hit me
right. Sure, remembering that I am “more”
than my sexuality helps in times when I am discouraged about it. But it’s not helpful when I need to vent or
even share miraculous, positive things that have happened in my life in
connection with my attractions.
It also
causes me to question how I characterize my sexuality. Why even talk about this (some might be
thinking…)? Well…God gave us sexual
feelings for the purpose of growing and replenishing the earth and uniting two
halves of society, male and female. So, sexuality
is pretty important. Perhaps it’s not an
“identity,” but it sounds pretty central to creation! It doesn’t just become insignificant if it
happens to be oriented differently.
Long ago, I attended a Faith and Feelings Conference in Provo, Utah. I can’t even remember who, but someone said, “Our sexuality isn’t all of who we are, but it happens to hit right in the eye of who we are.” That resonated with me. That made sense to me. So often telling myself to “remember my eternal identity” feels like once again pushing a way my sexuality. Cause how could my same-sex attraction and my being a son of God ever exist at the same time? We’re supposed to “put off the natural man,” right? But this always just leaves me feeling fragmented.
President
Nelson brought up three core identities for all of us: A child of God, a
child of the covenant, and a disciple of Christ (July 2022). I do think this is very important. I’m still pondering on what it means to be
all of these things. I think it’s a
journey and a “wrestle” that binds all covenant followers of Christ
together. I think it’s quite beautiful. By keeping my covenants and taking part in my
circle of influence in the Church, I already belong. And being a child of God? That’s something that applies to all of us. It’s one of the reasons that I have a certain
distaste for “identity politics” and essentializing things that divide us over
and above the things we have in common.
I believe it is a force that is intentionally wielded to keep people
divided.
That being
said, being a child of God doesn’t make me any less gay. Being gay doesn’t make me any less child of
God. In other words, my sexuality still
has meaning. It’s still a pretty
defining aspect of my life and where I am right now in it. It’s still something to be present with and
something that lends to my overall emotional being (as awkward as sexuality is
to talk about). This is something
applicable to people making a variety of life choices with their sexuality or
otherwise. I’ve had to accept and
re-accept that I’m wired for men. Rather
than seeing it as a disability, something to overcome, or a tendency towards
sin (hint: being heterosexual would also be a tendency toward sin…just turn on
the TV), I see it more as a state of being in this world. Is this an “identity?” I honestly do not know.
In fact, I
weary sometimes when it comes to “identity” and “labels.” I’m going say something I don’t often admit
to, but I do struggle with the Church’s same-sex attraction resource when it
says, “those who experience same-sex attraction or identify as lesbian, gay or
bisexual.” I have a hard time with the
separation. After I “came out,” those
two ideas were kind of one in the same. I
feel like “identify as,” in this instance, solidifies it as an “identity” when
I don’t want it to. I don’t “identify”
as gay. I just am. But I’m fully aware of other situations where
I prefer to insert that word, such as in transgender situations and the ever-changing narrative around that.
One of my
own “heroes” in the SSA/LGB world…someone with whom I do share a lot of
agreement…said the Church was correct in designating it as a separate
identity. Perhaps there is a very good
reason that I do not fully know yet (queer theory is a destructive force I’ve
been keeping an eye on…so that’s probably a factor). I remain open to the idea that sexuality is
just complex…more so than any “side” likes to believe.
I will say
that Church resources also leave wiggle room, such as “what does gay
mean to you?” There are provisions that
some language and meanings of words have changed over time. “Queer” is one of those words for me. I used to be ok with it. The former name of my blog is “Covenant
Keeping Queer.” However, with further
political baggage, including queer theory and social justice ideologies, I’ve
decided to retire that name.
I don’t like
radically avoiding the word “gay,” and I don’t like radically avoiding “same-sex
attraction.” Sometimes they mean
different things to me and other times they’re the same. It’s just whatever rolls off the tongue for
me.
But enough
about words.
I’ve
recently had to lean more into my…whatever you want to call it…gay
identity/state of being/whatever. It can
be very easy to feel distressed when I find a man attractive or if I start
undressing him with my mind. I’ve heard
all about “committing adultery already,” through lust. Yet I’ve had to unlearn and relearn what lust
actually is (it’s undefined for me at the moment). For example, in a recent Sunday School
lesson, one of my crushes was teaching the lesson. He grooms himself well, dresses nicely, and
by golly he’s strong in the gospel! Yes,
I had “lustful” thoughts running through my head, and I was spending a lot of energy
trying to push them away, berating myself for them, or telling myself that I
shouldn’t be thinking or feeling these things.
Plus, I wasn’t
able to pay attention to the lesson and feel the Spirit.
But a small idea
came to my mind: “Just let it all in.”
I allowed
myself to admire our teacher in all ways, spiritually, emotionally, and yes…even
physically. And just like that, I felt relieved,
and I was able to listen to the lesson more fully, feel the Spirit once again,
and give fellow classmates more attention when they were contributing. I’ve had several experiences like this that
have led me to the idea that God wants all of me. He wants all of me to come unto
Him. Unfortunately, I feel like there is
a lot of cultural programming and shame that wants me to hide stuff from God
(and I don’t think this is unique to the experience of same-sex
attraction). It’s like experiencing my
sexuality and, heavens, even enjoying it within the bounds the Lord has set, is
part of my worship. It’s the same
sensation as admiring the beauties of nature and giving gratitude to Heavenly
Father.
No. It doesn’t always make sense.
Now, I
wouldn’t hold up the 1997 film, Titanic as a great example of sexual
morality, but one scene keeps popping up in my mind. When Jack and Rose are on the deck just before
the ship hits the iceberg, Rose tells Jack that she will be exiting the ship
with him (enter dramatic irony). She
says, “I know, it doesn’t make sense – that’s why I trust it.” This is most certainly not a catch all for
everything. Just because something “doesn’t
make sense” doesn’t make it right. There’s
a whole spirit and “feeling of rightness” involved. But when I’m striving to keep my covenants
and stay close to Christ, perhaps I can trust those special moments that “don’t
make sense” in the realms of this world, but still feel “right” in some way.
If something
helps me more fully draw closer to the Lord, perhaps it can be a part
of my identity?


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