Finale

I've fallen a little behind on my goal of finishing this blog by my upcoming birthday. 


I survived high-school. I did fairly well. I went to college. I've become a mentor. I've become a role-model. 


After that week of revelation, and my new mind sight that no one had to ability to question my faith, my salvation, or my relationship with the Almighty except for me, I set out to live my life. 


Eventually the tears my family shed that Autumn dried, and the our relationship began to mend. I can tell you that here I am almost 26 years old, and a rather matured gay man having been out of the closet for going on 11 years now, I've learned a lot of things. To finish this blog up, I'll recount the important ones.


I found unconditional love. Most of my family will always love me. Most of them will always only see me as Robert Lee. Most of them will only see my sexual orientation as a part of who I am, not the defining point of my life. It defines very little about me.


I fell in love. It failed. It didn't fail, much to some people's dismay, because it was a homosexual relationship. It failed because we grew apart. See, homosexual relationships really aren't any different from their heterosexual counterparts. It's hard for me to admit my failures, but the best thing I could ever do was learn from them. I learned a lot from this relationship. He was a great guy. Only two member of my family got to meet the man I spent what I thought was going to be the rest of my life with. That is what I regret most. I kept him hidden, like a secret. I won't do that again.


The company one keeps is almost always an extension of who that person is. People come and go in life. It's just part of it. It stings a little more when it's family. But, sometimes that's also part of it. It's hard for me to tell you that it's been almost 6 months since I've spoken to my Aunt Jane. It's the longest we've ever gone in my almost 26 years of existence. I'm not bitter. I don't have hurt feelings anymore. I still love her, and wish nothing but the best for her and her family. But she feels like she needs to protect her family, and unfortunately what she feels like she needs to protect them from is: me. There's no need to go into detail about the argument, disagreement, misunderstanding, or whatever it was. It's no one's business except for ours. I've forgiven her. As superficial as it sounds, it's important to know that people like you for who you are, whether you went looking for that purpose or not. If someone doesn't like you the way you are, cut your loses. 


Some people in life will only watch you to see how hard you will fall. Prove them wrong. Never break your stride. Keep looking forward and keep going. If I wanted to leave, I would have left a long time ago; I won't give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me fail, and won't let anyone run me off.  


People will call you names. People will wish you ill-harm. People will say things under the "conviction of religion" that they don't truly understand because they never took the time to study it themselves. I wish I could say that these things will never happen, and maybe (hopefully) one day they will cease to exist. The only thing you ever have to remember is that you're already stronger than they could ever hope to be. You exist, and that is more than they could ever strive for. You don't conform, you don't need to. You don't pacify, there's no need to. You don't spew hate, you don't have a reason to. I found my own way, you can do the same. 


Which brings me to the final thing I learned. The thing it took me the most time learn. The thing I'm still learning everyday is: it truly does get better. It's just up to you whether you going to let it or not. I recommend sticking it out giving it time to do prove itself to you.

Part III (and delayed disclaimer)

I have taken an intentional hiatus from this blog for several reasons. One of which being that the rehashing of the emotions and events took a little bit more of a toll on my emotional well-being than I would have liked to admit.

Another is that this small piece of writing has caused a rather large rift amongst me and some members of my family. I have made some edits, albeit small changes, to protect those who felt they needed the protection of anonymity.

Thirdly, I have decided that I will vow to finish this thing by my birthday (in late May).

Finally, before I finish telling my story, I would like to add the following disclaimer: This story is my story. I refuse to censor any part of it because it seems like I'm attacking something you believe in, or because you don't particularly care for the way you're portrayed in it. This is my retelling, and my memory.

Now, back to the story...

The person I called to give me a ride to my parent's house was the pastor at the church I had recently joined. He was the man who gave the sermon that I recognized to be my calling to come back to Christ. I called him for two reasons. First and foremost, I wanted out of that house. Secondly, I wanted a man's perspective. It occurred to me that I had only truly spoken with women about it. The car ride back to my parents was fairly smooth. Aside from the unbelievably slow speed he was driving at, it just seemed to take forever. Pastor Tim and I talked about what was going on. We examined every stereotypical reason to feel this way (lack of a father figure, nature versus nurture, etc.). Pastor Tim shared with me the passion he knew I had for serving the Lord. He felt it when I stepped in the baptismal pool with him. This was very true. I was “on fire” for God. But, very politely reminded me that it is a sin to “practice homosexuality” and all but impossible to serve God faithfully while living this lifestyle. When we pulled into my parent's driveway, I thanked him and told him I'd see him on Sunday.

That week was when my revelation came. I had attended church that Sunday, and the sermon was about having a real relationship with God. I spent some time at Aunt Jane's helping her get ready for the Fall Festival she was hosting for the church. Lots of time praying, lots of homework, and lots of time to study The Word and reflect. It was the week my revelation came to me. I was at home, praying, and something in my mind kept telling me 127. I had no idea what this meant. But I went the one place I figured made the most sense: The Bible. I opened it to Genesis 1:27. There were the most beautiful words “So God created man in his own image...” Those words spoke volumes to me. I know that the verse goes on to say that God created man and woman, but what it said to me was that I was created in HIS OWN IMAGE. Why was I trying to change what the creator had made? I knew that God was not a God of confusion, or anything else I had been feeling while fighting this fight. That night I made peace with how I felt. I huge weight was lifted off my chest, and I could see straight (no pun intended). It was truly the beginning of the rest of my life, lived the way it was meant to be lived.