There's a song posted by two gay BYU students singing I Stand All Amazed which made me reflect on my life and the choices that I've made. Sometimes I get very honest with my feelings and leave myself vulnerable.
Here is my list of "Sometimes"---
Sometimes I'm cynical or bitter to cover up the immense amount of pain I go through. Stress over money, my future, the fact that I feel unloved and alone much of the time... Its hard for me.
Sometimes I wonder if the Savior really does care for me. And if he does, why did he put me into this body which was destined for gayness? While I've never talked to the singer on facebook that I added as a friend basically because he's a leader within the gay Mormon community and because he's cute, the idea that I did so just because he's attractive proves to me that I'm one of those shallow gays at times. I like pretty boys, not pretty girls! Why would I be made this way? What sort of cosmic joke am I the punchline of?
Sometimes I hate that my sexuality keeps me from being a dad in an easy way. Guys are supposed to have sex with their wives and bring beautiful babies into the world. And be good fathers. Not have to surf through adoption websites and look into outsourcing surrogacy to India.
Sometimes I get embarrassed admitting to the hundreds of hours I've spent thinking about being a dad. Or the fact that I have looked into sending sperm samples to foreign countries and choosing egg donors online---all because I want it so badly. Not many men would do that. And yet, the church still sees me as an inappropriate alternative to a traditional family despite me wanting it more than a lot of married men?
Sometimes I hate that I see people who don't appreciate being a father or don't appreciate their children. So I get bitter. And I get jealous from sitting in Sacrament Meeting seeing all the people with their babies and children. And I am alone in church with no one to be in my family or sit on the row with me. It sucks. And I cannot help but to blame God at times for my tabernacle of a body enjoying the wrong sex.
Sometimes I hate being in my situation in life. Knowing that I will always be an outsider.
Sometimes I really wish I had a man in my life who would love me---who would support me. Care about me. And want to be a father with me. Its not about sex. Its about love.
Sometimes I look at my own life and I think ... What did you do, Post-it Boy? What kind of life have you turned out?
Sometimes I worry that my dedication to the church, however minimal, is all in vain. And I'm just an idiot to follow a group which preaches hate mixed with love.
Sometimes I hate that I feel my life has no hope. I cling to the hope of my adoption. The other day, I thought "What if it doesn't happen?" and scary to admit... I said "Well, then my life won't happen."
Sometimes I wish I could just Stand all Amazed with the same faith I used to have. Believing that my life would all be good in the end. That my life wasn't all a cosmic joke. Or that my faith was real and not imagined.
Sometimes I just hate so many things around me in my life. Almost like I have no escape.
Sometimes I hate that to open up, I have to write a blog of "Sometimes" anonymously.
The end.
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