Brett Evans was raised in the Mormon Church; the church was what defined him as a person. Brett is also gay, and for years he wrestled with what it meant to be homosexual and an active member of the church. Until he couldn't anymore, and he started the complicated exit process. In the latest installment of our series, What It Feels Like, Brett tells us his story—and leaves nothing out. You can read it below. – Michael Sebastian, editor-in-chief Plus: |
|
|
Church wasn't merely what we did on Sundays; it was who we were. For me, there was one major complication. |
The Mormon church's position on homosexuality is slightly more nuanced than people may realize. Having same-gender attraction isn't, in itself, considered sinful. A common term used by Mormons is worthiness, and while they never use the term unworthy, there are some acts that designate a constituent unworthy. One of those? Gay sex. Be as gay as you'd like, but remaining in the church means remaining celibate. Forever. This led to intense internal conflict. At 24, I began a virtual relationship with another gay Mormon man. We never met in person, but we were emotionally intimate and sexted often. I was unprepared for the complexity of wanting things that seemed mutually exclusive: to be faithful to my religion and to experience love. |
|
|
I was on the old side for a first-time father, even in New York. Immediately, with the wisdom of my years, I began to sort the dads. Some worked all the time and never hung out with their kids—they were suckers. Others stayed home while their spouses worked. They looked down on dads who didn't. I admired them but could not relate. Eventually I found my people: the not-bad dads. We cared about our kids, deferred to our wives (mostly) on how to raise them, had jobs, but did our fair share on mornings, evenings, nights, and weekends. We were a little incompetent but not for want of trying. As my dad friend Matt said one day as we headed to the playground with our then-one-year-olds, realizing he had forgotten some basic item: "Typical dad mistake. Not enough reps!" We did our best. I had spent my 20s and 30s traveling as much as I could to write about the former Soviet Union—that was over now. When Raffi was six months old, I took a short trip to Ukraine. When I came back six days later, Raffi had changed. It was hard to put a finger on, but something had happened. I had missed some vital part of his development. Never again, I said, and mostly I meant it. |
|
|
Attorney General Pam Bondi, who is not enjoying her turn in the center ring of the Cabinet's great circus of fools, apparently was desperate for any headline not containing the name "Jeffrey Epstein" and the word "list." So she stepped in to stop the trial of a Utah doctor charged with a grotesque medical fraud. This is how you raise someone to hate and fear doctors, and to lie to them. (I have some unfortunate personal experience in this regard.) Of course, Pam Bondi, being 20 pounds of dumbass in a 10-pound bag, has no time for the logical mind. |
|
|
|
No comments:
Post a Comment