Questioning

I’ve always been…

Growing up one of Jehovahs Witnesses, I knew I was different. But then I knew a lot of folks in the faith were. They tried to be Godly but many times fell short. Ya know, because we’re not perfect.

My parents tried their best to protect us from harm and followed their hearts along the way. They were drawn to the structure of organized religion and many of their friends were turning to cults at that time. There were so many in the 1970’s. I know they don’t like me to refer to their faith as a cult but it’s my truth and my story so I will call em as I see em.

Unfortunately there were predators within the family and I think my parents wanted an excuse to keep us girls away from the bad ones in brood.

My step grandfather, Tom, who is now dead (the anniversary of his passing is always celebrated on July 4, the day he died) but caused much damage I’m my life as well as many other children in the family. My parents were protecting us from him specifically. You see, in the faith, we were not allowed to associate with those outside of the faith so it protected us from the ultimate predator, Tom… unfortunately they didn’t recognize the predators within the faith. But they tried. Hard! While the actions they took had many negative affects on me, I do believe they did succeed in doing their best to shelter us from the bad things in the world.

Anyhow…. That life made me question everyone and everything. Including my sexuality. The events of my life unfolded like a complex origami after that. I knew at a very young age that I was sexually attracted to masculine and femme energies. I always had questions and curiosity about unconventional sex. I had a pretty vivid imagination and many hormones. I clearly remember learning to kiss with my girlfriends at 8 years old or so and knowing God was watching and judging me. I remember having hard crushes on my girl friends who weren’t part of the kissing game and being terrified they would find out.

I can think back to the first time I was called a lesbian. It was my sister Who said it and my dad heard. He calmly explained that a lesbian was a woman who had sexual relations with only women. I knew a Lesbian at the time, someone within the family, but she dressed very masculine. I thought, no way, I don’t dress boring, I’m far too fashionable to dress like that and I also have crushes on boys too. Shit… I had so many crushes and questions.

I waffled between girl and boy crushes the rest of my life and when I hit my sexual peek I experimented with both. I’ve never had a preference, just questions. So many questions.

I knew my sexuality couldn’t fit into just one box.

I remember about 4 years ago I finally told my dad because he was talking about the “gays” and how he didn’t like being inundated by them, watching them on the tv or having a gay person wait on him. He didn’t want it pushed in his face but felt they had the right to exist.

I remember saying “ Dad, these folks need work too and they aren’t trying to act gay to offend you. There’s many gay, queer or questioning folks who act completely straight and told him he would never know the difference much of the time. I asked him why it bothered him so much that someone exists in a flamboyant spirit. He couldn’t answer the question outside of saying that it’s against Gods will. In that moment I told him that I had carried on many relationships with women and even folks who are transitioning and that I’m Queer. He didn’t understand at first. I went on to explain that it hurts me to know that he doesn’t think queer folks should have jobs on tv. After all, I buy my folks house and car with money from tv and I’m queer, even though my current relationship is with a man. I told him that it’s very probable that several of his grand children are in fact queer as well. He began to cry. I thought he was ashamed of us. But he was crying because he hadn’t realized that his religious beliefs would make his family feel so badly. He was so upset that he had made me feel less than acceptable. We continued to have a really productive conversation about accepting eachother.

It was a groundbreaking conversation with my dad.

He, for the first time ever, apologized for pushing this opinion on me. We had a truly healing moment. I understand that he may never fully change his values but it made me feel seen and heard to speak with him in this tender topic. He cared. Like, actually cared! It gave me a sense of value and worth.

I saw him in a different light after that. And I have to say, he is beautiful in that light. I’m thankful for his engagement.

Thank you Papa Colby for having the courage to listen.