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.

Privilege, Shame, Blessings and Gratitude

“Over my nine and a half decades of life, I have concluded that counting our blessings is far better than recounting our problems. No matter our situation, showing gratitude for our privileges is a fast-acting and long-lasting spiritual prescription.”

-President Russell M. Nelson

Almost a couple of weeks ago, President Nelson of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints gave a world-wide, timely Thanksgiving message amid this COVID-19 pandemic, the divisive political and social climate and the economic, spiritual and emotional turmoil many are facing. 

I find it interesting how he specifically mentioned gratitude for our privileges. This brought me back to another time earlier this year...I can’t remember specifically, when gratitude brought me out of a negative spiral of negative thinking not only about myself, but the world around me and the pressures to feel shame about what I have and who I am (perhaps both being gay and being a dreaded white man). 

The call to be thankful and express gratitude for my blessings AND privileges, for me, stands in stark contrast to many discussions around privilege in social justice narratives. I refer back to critical race theory and other narratives like it. I had heard about what I now call “privilege talk” and long before (I did one of those privilege walks when I attended a certain conference for LGBT Latter-day Saints...and it wasn’t North Star). 

Critical Theory seems to be like the mothership of everything of that nature. 

If gratitude and the positivity and charity that comes with it are somehow inherent with critical theory and privilege talk, it’s completely lost on me. Privilege talk triggers many kinds of feelings of shame, self-loathing and overthinking...and the guilt and shame isn’t even genuine. It feels manufactured and like something I’m supposed to feel about where I am in life. I’ve heard critical theory described like a religion or a cult, except without the presence of a loving God from whom all blessings flow. For me it’s psychologically damaging and I thought, “Am I the only one feeling this? Is there something wrong with me?” Of course, as mentioned in a previous post, all of my hesitations and and troubles surrounding critical social justice can be summed up as my “white fragility” and a denial of my own internalized racial superiority. 

Additionally, isn’t it commonly said that comparison is the thief of joy? While maybe not on the same scale as race, I think of what it would be like if I constantly blamed straight people for all of my problems and what I don’t have and continually asked them to “check their straight privilege.” I just don’t think it’s helpful for conversation and I feel like it sidesteps our common humanity, shared interests, and shared struggles. But then again, others might tell me that I “benefit from straight privilege” because of my beliefs. Heck...even if I were in a full-fledged same-sex relationship, I’d imagine that I’d need to take each situation as it comes and extend the grace that I hope to receive from others. In my experience, ministering and lifting others up is done one by one and on a case by case basis. 

I feel like so many branches of identity politics operate from a place of shame and “shoulding.” Even when people say “it’s not about guilt or hating yourself,” the very language of placing people on a hierarchy of privilege and/or oppression just doesn’t feel right and authentic. 

Gratitude for what I have, who I am, where I live...seems to carry a much better energy and place from which to operate. This past Thanksgiving, when I would have been running a 5k were it not for COVID, I instead went up to Bountiful Boulevard in 30-degree weather and went for a 3-mile walk. I love the change from summer to fall to winter, with all the holidays, time to reflect and be thankful, time to be with family and play games and eat lots (working on that when it comes to the rest of the year). I love the chilling weather especially when I know I’ll be in a warm home again sipping hot chocolate and later enjoying a Thanksgiving feast with my family. 

Gratitude helps me to have a better self-image. It helps me take better care of myself and take care of the stewardships God had entrusted me with. It helps me remember that I am loved and that I matter. 

Upon expressing some of my thoughts and feelings about “privilege talk,” some of my social media friends commented and they seem to have drastically different feelings. Some people are able to hold to their self-worth and self-love while simultaneously engaging in privilege talk. More power to them. 

Instead of insisting that everyone “check their privilege” and get on-board with critical race theory and “anti-racism,” why not accept that it’s not going to ring true for everyone and it’s not going to get everyone to act out of their own goodness and genuine care for others? 

Helen Pluckrose, a liberal cultural writer and co-author of the book, Cynical Theories, said, “Employers must defend their employees’ freedom of belief and make their policies against racism accommodating of the full range of ideological and philosophical views from which one can oppose racism.” 

In one of her interviews hosted by Dr. Karlyn Borysenko, another liberal thinker, Helen specifically mentioned the belief that we are all children of God was definitely a valid perspective to come from. And this is one which I believe the Church and many other denominations try to operate from. This is what I understand “colorblindness” to mean. It’s a goal. It means that you try to dissociate assumptions about someone based on their skin color (Martin Luther King Jr. comes to mind). Some see “colorblindness” as denial or the “new racism” (heck..if the definition of racism keeps changing, we’re never going to get anywhere...and I believe that’s part of the madness of critical theories), but I do not believe “colorblindness” eliminates the existence of racial bias. I believe bias to be very individualized and sometimes a very personal journey. And even when people say they’re “not racist,” or “don’t have prejudice,” I don’t believe, and I don’t believe that they believe, that they have no bias. It’s part of being a human. I don’t think I’m “educating” anyone on this. 

I always say that if there’s unconscious bias, then perhaps there is also unconscious correction and adjustment. I’ve seen it in my life. And sometimes I feel like talking about it too much can make a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be, not to mention the self-judgment that can come as well. 

I also don’t believe “colorblindness” denies the existence of economic disparity. Generational wealth and poverty are realities, but is it responsible to chalk it up to racism? Furthermore, the racism of “all white people?” I don’t think so. I think there are some harmful narratives that get perpetuated that can be harmful for many people. There could be a variety of reasons things are they way they are (even if they did originate in times of state-sanctioned racism), just as there are a variety of possible solutions to these kinds of problems. As part of that, many Latter-day Saints contribute a portion of their income to the Church and more offerings for numerous welfare and humanitarian efforts. Whether that’s considered “using my privilege” or not, hopefully it goes far. 

Anyway, it was a refreshing wake-up call to hear the prophet and the president of the Church urge us to express and lean into gratitude for our blessings and privileges. It knocked me out of the ever so enticing messages of the world that I should be ashamed of myself and all that I have. I definitely have experienced and seen how gratitude can act as a spiritual healing power in many ways. 

Rants of a "Politically Incorrect" LGBT Person - Part 3

 Critical Social Justice Theory...finally a term that encompasses so many of the "off" feelings I've had surrounding discussions on diversity, race, LGBT issues, gender, etc. for quite a long time.  I didn't have a term for it before.  But I suppose it falls in line with the "off" feeling I had about "social justice warriors."  I didn't feel like I could ever talk about it, especially at work.  But this crazy 2020 year, finding other like-minded folks from a variety of demographics, and with President Trump banning critical race theory training from the federal government, I've finally found some more confidence to "come out" and "be myself."

#WalkAway

I've already raved about Dave Rubin in other posts and his work in "leaving the Left."  But I've found many other similar voices, like Brandon Straka of the Walk Away Movement.  Now, I'm not going to say that I agree with him on everything, but that's actually part of my point.  He's a gay man who saw how the Left seemed to like to put people in boxes, get people to vote for them...and then do nothing for them.  His movement is, in essence, a "Walk Away" from the Democratic party.  However, I'll add that this doesn't mean joining the Republican party, or even necessarily leaving the Democratic party.  But it describes people waking up from patterns or policies they were living under that they realized were not helping.  

In this post, I only have enough room to cover some of my own perspectives, but there's a #WalkAway YouTube channel which features several voices from a variety of demographics.  From there, I've found other voices like Karlyn Borysenko (a liberal Trump voter this year), Lauren Chen, Ben Shapiro (Yes...I too thought he was Satan until I actually listened to him...he's also been a target of white supremacists as he is Jewish), James Lindsay, Helen Pluckrose, Benjamin Boyce, Brett Weinstein and Heather Heying and many more.  And many of them still do identify as liberal.  All this to say that much of what I see in the Democrat party, or more succinctly, the Left, is no longer liberal.  It's illiberal.

Gay Stuff

I've mentioned before that I've always struggled with Pride and with much of the vocal LGBT community.  I didn't feel represented.  I felt like my beliefs and feelings (even if I didn't know how to describe them) fell out of line with so many political leanings that often accompany the gay community.  This is sad because it was always supposed to be about inclusion...and I never really felt included.  While I had started to create my own sense of "pride" anyway, when I first saw a Trump-themed Pride shirt, I thought, "Whoa...this is what I've been waiting for! I can don something like this!"  (I never thought I'd support Trump...but I'll get to that later).  I had struggled with Pride and I had struggled with Trump's campaign, but combining the two???  Um...yeah for some reason that resonates more with me.  I got a Pride-themed "Make America Great Again" face mask.  It's too tight and I can't breathe in it, but hey.  I have it (and I wear masks in appropriate places...don't assume you know my positions on COVID-19!  Unless you actually do...of course...).

I've found other conservative gay voices, mostly on Instagram (currently deactivated from the hell-hole of Facebook).  For me it's like a breath of fresh air.  Even if we disagree on some things, have different perspectives, or some are more into the hyper-sexualized culture than others...I feel safer among those voices.  I feel like we can actually have conversations.  I still have some conflicts...and faith conflicts...about gay marriage.  It feels as though the world...including many conservatives and many voices in the Church...have moved on from it while I have some lingering questions.  But I feel like many of these people (gay conservatives) would understand where I come from and would embrace me and the differences we have while we unanimously slam identity politics.  They wouldn't call me "self-hating," "homophobic" or whatever for holding the views that I do.  Guy Benson, a gay conservative, supported gay marriage, but also said that he wouldn't shame people who didn't...he explicitly mentioned other gay people too!  It was so refreshing when a fellow gay conservative commented in jest: "How dare gay people have different perspectives on stuff?" Brandon Straka, mentioned above, gave a spiel about his empathy for STRAIGHT MEN.  Straight, white men who seem to bear the brunt of everything related to critical social justice theory.  THANK YOU!

Critical Social Justice Theory

I can't possibly cover everything about Critical Social Justice Theory, but some helpful info on understanding it is located here: New Discourses

Words can't describe the relief that flowed through me when President Trump eliminated further Critical Race Theory (CRT) training in federal government agencies.  This is thanks to the work of Chris Rufo and others.  Some see this as Trump trying to maintain white supremacy and racism within the federal government.  If you sincerely believe in and abide by CRT, yes that would be true.  But the thing is, people have different opinions, experiences, locations, and views of the world.  CRT seems to pigeonhole everyone into a box in a hierarchical manner.  It's a game of Oppression Olympics.  It's something that has been brewing for quite some time now and it hasn't gone unnoticed by me, and it came close to being a standard training in my employing agency.  The kicker for the ban (among others) was diversity training that took place at Sandia National Labs.  Look it up.  It's awful.

I tried to write down everything that I feel is wrong about CRT, but it ended up being several long paragraphs.  In addition to James Lindsay's "New Discourses" above, I'll refer you to the following (non-exhaustive):

Karlyn Borysenko & Helen Pluckrose - White Fragility

Brett Weinstein and Heather Heying (husband & wife) - Kafka Traps, White Fragility & BLM (these are left-leaning folks, but still got booed out of their occupations by a very vocal minority at Evergreen College)

Benjamin Boyce and Desi-Rae - Breaking Through Black and White Thinking

Douglas Murray/Triggernometry

...and there are so many more voices from a variety of demographics.

Yes, I am thoroughly aware that according to CRT and the White Fragility narrative, everything I have to express is evidence of my own "white fragility," my racism, my internalized racial superiority.  I understand enough to know that.  But I think it's a bunch of bull-shoot.  I'm serious, Robin Di'Angelo (author of the book, White Fragility) has a pre-packaged answer for any reaction, any dissent, or any feeling that I have in response to these kinds of things.  I've read and learned enough to understand where this framework is coming from.  But the catch is that if you disagree with it, you're racist.  Actually, all white people are racist.  White supremacy is the status quo.  It's only possible for white people to be racist.  If you don't join in the "anti-racist" cult and do "the work," you're considered complicit in the system.  Even if you're black or brown and don't buy into CRT, you're also complicit in the system of “whiteness.”  There are so many other rules and doctrines, and like I said...I can't begin to describe them all (see New Discourses).

I could make a list of what Critical Social Justice is not, but that would be long too.  But consider certain liberal principles like individualism, listening to each other and having conversations, actually learning from different people and learning from differing perspectives, taking a person’s character over their skin color...things that Martin Luther King probably would stand for...those are not Critical Social Justice Theory.  Equality of opportunity, team-building, racial sensitivity training...those are not Critical Social Justice Theory.  I can get behind unconscious bias training...although that can sometimes give way to categorical, hierarchical wokeness.

There are other arms of this theory as well: queer theory, women’s studies, fat studies, whiteness studies (of course there’s nothing positive about whiteness studies), and you guessed it, straight white men are at the top of every system of oppression. It’s just assumed that if you aren’t oppressed enough, you don’t have enough “diversity” to say anything. Oh but you must listen. And you must do as we say (I can say "we" because I'm gay, right?). Even if it’s true that historically, white men have had power, we’re still human beings of the present day. 

If you’re obsessive as I am, this can turn into a mentally harmful situation if you take it literally (and I think it can be harmful in different ways for different demographics).  I talk to my therapist about this stuff.  My goal is not to come to better terms with my "white fragility," "white privilege," "white discomfort."  I simply don't believe I even need to submit to these ideas and doctrines in order to be a positive contributor to society.  We also talk about how the suicide rate for middle-aged white males is among the highest.  Hmmm...there's always a lot that goes into mental health, but I'm sure critical social justice doesn't help.  I thought mental health, self love, self care were all liberal principles.  Not for men, I guess.  Or white people.  And if I'm expected to come back to the destructive land of critical social justice after caring for myself...why even try???

I also believe that several tenets of critical social justice etch out several of the principles that our country was founded upon (but of course...those principles are seen as racist).  This is an illustration of the role religion can play in society...and what it looks like without it.  The Christian (and other similar belief systems) values of forgiveness, individuality, a belief in a Higher Power that can atone for challenges, inequities and unfairness in this life...are not present in critical social justice.  It's a way of relying on other humans making up for whatever one doesn't have (not that we don't help each other...but it needs to be in a liberal fashion and with a sense of self-worth).

I can't illustrate all the things I find problematic (like how my expression of all this is merely because my privilege is being questioned), but this is something that has been eating at me even before George Floyd and the riots.  They're concerns that extend back even to when I began coming to terms with my sexuality.

Donald J. Trump

Critical social justice and the events of 2020 have pushed me over the edge toward voting for Donald Trump.  Even before he took office I was concerned about what was going on on the Left.  I can't categorize myself as ever being a "never-Trumper."  I resonated with how a lot of people felt about him.  I was against him in some fashion, but I don't recall feeling panicked or worried.  Several people I know tried to raise an alarm.  I just didn't feel it though.  To be honest I felt kind of relieved that the pendulum started swinging back from the Left.

One of my first eye-openers was when I was led to believe that Hillary Clinton would win by a landslide.  She didn't.  I know there's a whole thing about popular vote vs the electoral college.  I was just as surprised as anyone.  For some, this was a message that America is more racist, sexist, homophobic and xenophobic than anyone had imagined.  I wasn't there though, especially since I've come to know many gay people, women, people in racial minorities, immigrants...who voted for Trump or didn't vote for him in 2016 but now support him full-throttle.  I listened to what they had to say.  For a long time, I've relied on what "other people" would say about Trump.  I listened to his critics more often than I listened to his supporters.

For a while, I thought Trump said "fake news" for anything he didn't like.  That might still be true, but over the last year I've seen how the media has twisted things he's said and situations he's been in to be something that they're not.  He says and does stupid things sometimes.  But then the media sweeps in and makes it sound even more stupid.  A prominent example in my mind is when he rehearsed possible remedies for COVID-19 that were being tested and studied.  To me he sounded like someone who was just rambling because he wanted the last word...but he did NOT tell me to go and inject myself with Clorox or drink some other household cleaner.  There have been other times where I've had to listen to an entire speech in order to get beyond what the media would say.  

All that said, there are a variety of things I didn't know about the President.  I did not know that he doesn't take a salary.  He donates it to various programs that work to help people.  He did not need to be president.

I did not know that running for president had been on his radar for quite a while.  He didn't want to, but figured he'd step in if things got "bad enough."

I did not know that he had appointed an openly gay ambassador to Germany (and several other gay people in his administration now).  I did not know that Trump was involved in an effort to decriminalize homosexuality.  I did not know that much of the transgender situation with the military was due to medical needs and issues.  In reality, Trump is the first president to step in office in support of gay marriage.

There are several other things I did not know...good things that the Trump administration has done...because mainstream media did not cover it.  I kind of get the tactics of the media, though.  Negativity sells.  Positivity not as much.

I've heard from people who have had actual, in person interactions with the President.  I've watched press-conferences (not filtered through the media) and I've watched round tables the President has had with a variety of people.

There may be things I still don't know about Trump, both good and bad.  I understand the concerns people still have with him.  I do believe "Trump Derangement Syndrome" is a real thing.  But I understand people have legitimate concerns.  In 2016, I voted mostly based on character.  Nothing wrong with that; nothing wrong with that this year.  I really wasn't into politics, and I'm still learning.  This year I'm looking more at the actual platforms, and I understand some people use their vote to vote against something.  I suppose I have great reason for that this year.

Walking Away

So I'm walking away.  I'm walking away from the trap of Critical Social Justice and the belief that I "should" think or feel a particular way, especially based on my own sexuality or other immutable characteristics and those of others.  I'm pursuing freedom of thought.  I'm trying to walk away from the belief that I'm a horrible person if I don't buy into the madness.  I'm walking away and walking more toward my faith and my relationship with Divinity.  I'm walking away and walking more steadfastly toward the American patriotism that I knew when I was growing up.  Right now, I'm finding that among conservatives, classic liberals, Republicans, and with President Trump.

Unresolved: Musings of June 2020

I've had some interesting thoughts and feelings recently.  They're not really anything new, but they're starting to be express-able in words.

I have questions.  Don't we all?  The strange thing is that I'm not in a desperate place to know the answers.  There's an element of peace and also an element of feeling incomplete.  Yet I feel like I have what I need at this point it time.  But it's still awkward...

In light of recent events in the world, the media, coronavirus, accounts of racial injustice, I've found myself drifting towards various people offering "conservative" perspectives on various issues.  These people are racially diverse too.  I've learned a little about "classic liberalism," basically about a willingness to tolerate other people and their opinions as well as having decent conversations about what we actually agree and disagree about.  I've become a fan of Dave Rubin, a self-proclaimed "classical liberal" who has many interviews with people from the conservative end of things as well as from the middle to left of the political spectrum.  He's married to his husband, yet doesn't seem to be in lockstep with the LGBT political machine of the day.

This is what I sometimes have unresolved tensions on...that gay marriage seems to be a part of classical liberalism, a security of individual rights.  It makes sense.  I understand where Dave and others come from.  Yet sometimes I'm still baffled as to how I felt like I needed to support the traditional, orthodox view of marriage and family.  I still feel like I understand where the LDS Church and other good faith organizations and individuals are coming from when they favor the nuclear family unit.  It doesn't mean that everyone is going to have that, but even among those who don't (like a close confidant of mine who chose to have a child out of wedlock but has since been through the temple and is faithful to the gospel), it's still possible to see and understand the ideal. 

Even with that, I still cherish the idea of same-sex love wherever it is found.  Of course, I operate off the belief that my church has never told me that I can't love a man.  Rather, it's more about boundaries around sexual relations and the institution of marriage.  I appreciate it when shows such as Modern Family or Schitt's Creek depict how being gay, or being in a gay relationship can be integrated naturally into family life, mutual respect and being contributing members of society.  I also appreciate the show, Queer Eye, and how the "Fab 5" does good in the world and builds relationships among a wide variety of people...even among religious leaders who might teach an orthodox, traditional sexual ethic.

I appreciate it when it's just naturally put in as part of the story as opposed to what feels like "tokenism" to me.  It's hard to describe exactly what I like and don't like as far as gay depictions in the media (of course...I don't think many will take well to an openly gay celibate Christian portrayed, but I digress).  I struggle when it feels like intentionally putting in a gay couple or furthermore, portraying them as "good" and other straight people...especially those with conservative Christian backgrounds as "bad."  Let me allude to not one, but TWO movies I saw on the plane ride to and from our 2016 Tabernacle Choir tour in Central Europe.  They were Ricky and the Flash, and My Big Fat Greek Wedding II.  They were both decent movies in their own right, yet I found it ironic that both of the movies depicted a gay sibling who then found a partner by the closing scenes of the two movies.  I don't know...as I write this, I struggle to find a reason why I struggled with that, other than I struggled with it.  These were two movies that came out at the same time and it just felt like a "trend" rather than weaving it in naturally to the storyline.  But whatever, others might disagree. 

(Side note: I recently saw a post about how Disney needs to represent the LGBT community more and how two women kissing at the end of Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker wasn't enough.  I was like, um..."isn't Poe Dameron and his open collar enough for all the gay men out there????")

I've enjoyed following people like Dave Rubin.  He and his husband actually had the opportunity to meet President Donald Trump at some sort of important dinner (look at the video here).  Their experience is that he was warm and welcoming to them.  He stood up to shake their hands and mention that he didn't give a <swear> that they were gay and married and that no one's given a <swear> for decades...perhaps to make up for what much of the media has said about the Trump administration...that they're all bigoted and homophobic.  Even when it comes to Mike Pence, I think it would be interesting to sit down and have a conversation with him, because I don't know that I can trust everything the media says.

OK, back to Dave.  I understand that he and his husband are getting ready to welcome a baby into their family.  I like this.  I support them.  The thing is, I still believe in and can understand the Family Proclamation.  For me, I never wanted to be "against equality."  I could never quite articulate what the government should do as far as marriage legislation.  All I had was my own testimony and perspectives.  The thing I like about Dave is that I could probably have a decent discussion with him and come away not feeling like a horrible person, with him understanding that I (and probably many other religious conservative folks) am not coming from a place of "homophobia" or "bigotry."

So there's some ambiguity here, and I have to live with it.

OK, enough about Dave.  Let me complain a spell.

It's the middle of Pride Month.  I've written a few posts about how I feel about Pride and some of the conflicts it brings.  Something interesting to note is that two of the households in my townhome complex are hanging rainbow Pride flags, while neither myself nor the set of husbands near me are.  I'm more inclined to hang the Stars and Stripes, although I'll probably do that as a door decoration or somewhere in my front garden. 

This is a month (and it's definitely not unique to the month of June) where celebrities...even some with whom I've shared the stage...albeit among 400+ other people...post something about their feelings of affinity and concern for "the LGBT community."  Of course it always leans toward the more liberal, gay affirming side of things.  I never truly feel included in their comments.  It's always about "love is love" and "being shamed for who you love," etc.  Sometimes it feels like a perpetuation of oppression.  I've conversed a little with some local "social justice warriors," and sometimes they'll say, "I'll support you whatever path you're on."  But to celebrities and other SJWs alike...how about we have more of a conversation where some of us come from, about how we don't view our religious institutions nor our traditional beliefs as intrinsically "homophobic." 

Another cause of angst is that some people, especially members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, are drawn in to Pride events or other...uh...more "rainbowy" LGBT events and movements out of their own baptismal covenants to "mourn with those who mourn" or "comfort those who stand in need of comfort."  These principles might even push them toward believing that the Church, can, should or will change the doctrine of marriage and the standards of chastity.  My journey in the gospel so far has not pushed me down that road of belief.  Does that make me wrong and them right?  Are we both wrong?  Are we both right? 

I have the same questions about my pre-2015 grappling.  Does my feeling to understand and even stand behind the traditional family unit during that time mean "anti-equality?"  Can God prompt someone to be "anti-equality?"  Or is there "spiritual equality" and "political equality?"  And is it possible that "political equality" gets amplified over everything else and get used as a weapon towards those who believe differently? 

These are kinds of questions that may not have answers right now.  Of course everyone's wondering WHAT is right (and in my experience, left-wing politics and methods of teaching "inclusion and diversity" seem to claim to have all the answers to these kinds of things, yet it's much more nuanced for many of us).

Anyway, I don't have any clear sort of conclusion.  I suppose it represents the lack of closure I feel between opposing viewpoints that seem to get further and further apart...