As I look over the last week, I am humbled by a great many blessings which have fallen into my life. This has been a week that was an emotional one for me. I marked fourteen years since my coming out to my family and also have welcomed someone very special into my life. Today, Birmingham saw something very rare for us—snow. What a week.
I’m grateful for the support of dear friends this week. I’m most grateful for the forgiveness of friends against whom I have trespassed. I often speak without thinking, and often hurt those I love the most without intention. I’m grateful for Trent’s guidance and friendship. I’d be completely lost without his wisdom as my guide.
I’m grateful for the new friendship which is beginning with Wynn. He and I have become very close in the last few days. We are uncertain what the future will hold, but the possibilities seem endless. I’m grateful for hope, newness, and joy of a new tomorrow.
Here’s my confession: I’m grateful for the many good things in my life. I’m grateful for where my journey has taken me. I’m grateful for the people who have guided me along this journey, for the confidence I’ve found within myself, and just how far I’ve come. Deep down, I suppose, I’m the same guy I’ve always been, but there’s something different. I’m ready to live again. I’m ready to like again, and well, I think I’m ready to begin writing a new chapter of my life.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
MOM, I’M GAY
It was fourteen years ago tonight that I uttered that phrase to my mother. It was quite possibly the scariest moment in my life. So, through tear-filled eyes I looked at my mother and said “Mom, I’m gay.” Her response was, simply, “I don’t have a problem with that.” The two of us spent the next two to three hours sharing stories. It was one of the first and only mother and son moments I can ever remember between us.
I remember being terrified to utter that phrase. But, I couldn’t allow myself to hide who I am any longer. It was something I’d known for a really long time. It was a secret that I’d carried throughout childhood, adolescence and the early part of my adult hood. Time came where I could no longer lie to myself or any of the people in my life. I had to admit that I am gay.
The next few years were good. My parents were both very accepting (mother told dad for me). I never once felt that my parents did not accept me for who I am. The biggest surprise to me was the acceptance by my dad’s side of the family and the turning of the back on me by my mom’s side of the family—when I expected the absolute opposite.
Fourteen years ago. It’s hard to believe. It’s even harder to believe that next month, it will have been four years since I laid eyes on my parents. There’s been a parting of the ways. I’m so thankful, grateful and blessed that I’ve experienced acceptance from my family.
Here’s my confession: It’s hard to really say what happened. What I know is that I’m happy with my life today. It’s not perfect, but I know while my relationship with my family of origin is pretty much non-existent, I have a family of choice who supports and loves me. I’m sure that somewhere, deep down, my family of origin thinks about me. Hell, they may even still love me. But, I’m a gay man in my mid thirties. I’m happy with where life is heading. I have good in my life.
“Mom, I’m gay.” Said I. “I don’t have a problem with that.” said she. Thus began a dialogue on a cold February night. And somewhere, a few years on down the road, bridges were burned and pain was caused. Today, m not exactly ready to make nice. I’ve extended the olive branch of peace for years. And, my friends who know what I’ve been though are very loving and supportive. I’ve tried to make amends. Now, much like “Dixie Chicks”, I’m not ready to back down, I’m not ready to make nice. Maybe someday.
I remember being terrified to utter that phrase. But, I couldn’t allow myself to hide who I am any longer. It was something I’d known for a really long time. It was a secret that I’d carried throughout childhood, adolescence and the early part of my adult hood. Time came where I could no longer lie to myself or any of the people in my life. I had to admit that I am gay.
The next few years were good. My parents were both very accepting (mother told dad for me). I never once felt that my parents did not accept me for who I am. The biggest surprise to me was the acceptance by my dad’s side of the family and the turning of the back on me by my mom’s side of the family—when I expected the absolute opposite.
Fourteen years ago. It’s hard to believe. It’s even harder to believe that next month, it will have been four years since I laid eyes on my parents. There’s been a parting of the ways. I’m so thankful, grateful and blessed that I’ve experienced acceptance from my family.
Here’s my confession: It’s hard to really say what happened. What I know is that I’m happy with my life today. It’s not perfect, but I know while my relationship with my family of origin is pretty much non-existent, I have a family of choice who supports and loves me. I’m sure that somewhere, deep down, my family of origin thinks about me. Hell, they may even still love me. But, I’m a gay man in my mid thirties. I’m happy with where life is heading. I have good in my life.
“Mom, I’m gay.” Said I. “I don’t have a problem with that.” said she. Thus began a dialogue on a cold February night. And somewhere, a few years on down the road, bridges were burned and pain was caused. Today, m not exactly ready to make nice. I’ve extended the olive branch of peace for years. And, my friends who know what I’ve been though are very loving and supportive. I’ve tried to make amends. Now, much like “Dixie Chicks”, I’m not ready to back down, I’m not ready to make nice. Maybe someday.
Friday, February 5, 2010
GRATITUDE 02.05.10
Since I’ve been writing my weekly reflections on gratitude, the whole idea of gratitude is something that has become such an important part of life to me. I am beginning to see that if you live a life of gratitude, things just look better, even in the darkest moments.
While sometimes my writings may seem trite and redundant, in all honesty, I do try to take a deep look at my life, my week and reflect on the many good things that have happened.
As always, I am most grateful for the people by whom I am surrounded. There are so many wonderfully amazing people I didn’t even know at this point two years ago who are absolutely family to me. People such as Trent, Jay, Kyle, Christopher and Grant have welcomed me into their lives as though it were the most natural of actions. For their friendship, their perspectives, protection and love beyond my ability to express is humbling. I’m honored to have such beautiful brothers in my life.
Life has a funny way of changing on us. The funny thing is, we may have an idea of where life will take us, but the map takes us on alternate routes. I’m grateful for the journey, even the bumps in the road. The bumps allow me to reflect and grow in ways that the smooth times never could.
I’m grateful for a faith that, although it has its peaks and valleys, has sustained me. I am more often in the valley than the peaks, but I know that a more powerful presence is always active in my life. I’m grateful for the individuals who introduced me to my life of faith. My faith in my God is one that is in a constant state of growing, understanding and journey towards peace. The faith I have today is not the faith I had in high school, college, or even ten years ago as I was in the final weeks of preparation for confirmation in the Catholic Church.
Here’s my confession: I’m grateful for all the wonderful things in my life—so many things that I truly don’t understand. I’m grateful for the indelible fingerprints left upon my heart and life by some of the most incredible people I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I’m grateful for where the journey has brought me, but even more grateful for what is yet to come. I am a flawed individual, but I’m grateful for mercy and the many afforded me. I’m grateful for you. Thank you for taking the time to read!
While sometimes my writings may seem trite and redundant, in all honesty, I do try to take a deep look at my life, my week and reflect on the many good things that have happened.
As always, I am most grateful for the people by whom I am surrounded. There are so many wonderfully amazing people I didn’t even know at this point two years ago who are absolutely family to me. People such as Trent, Jay, Kyle, Christopher and Grant have welcomed me into their lives as though it were the most natural of actions. For their friendship, their perspectives, protection and love beyond my ability to express is humbling. I’m honored to have such beautiful brothers in my life.
Life has a funny way of changing on us. The funny thing is, we may have an idea of where life will take us, but the map takes us on alternate routes. I’m grateful for the journey, even the bumps in the road. The bumps allow me to reflect and grow in ways that the smooth times never could.
I’m grateful for a faith that, although it has its peaks and valleys, has sustained me. I am more often in the valley than the peaks, but I know that a more powerful presence is always active in my life. I’m grateful for the individuals who introduced me to my life of faith. My faith in my God is one that is in a constant state of growing, understanding and journey towards peace. The faith I have today is not the faith I had in high school, college, or even ten years ago as I was in the final weeks of preparation for confirmation in the Catholic Church.
Here’s my confession: I’m grateful for all the wonderful things in my life—so many things that I truly don’t understand. I’m grateful for the indelible fingerprints left upon my heart and life by some of the most incredible people I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I’m grateful for where the journey has brought me, but even more grateful for what is yet to come. I am a flawed individual, but I’m grateful for mercy and the many afforded me. I’m grateful for you. Thank you for taking the time to read!
Thursday, February 4, 2010
WHAT MATTERS MOST
I’ve been having trouble the last few days trying to figure out something to write about. Tonight, I was listening to a song on the way home from work and it inspired me to take a look at what really matters most.
I’ve wrestled with so many thoughts. Does it matter that my relationship with my family of origin is practically nil? Not really. Does it matter that I feel like I’m stuck trying to figure out the next move in life is? Does it matter that I am wondering where I belong professionally? No.
What matters most is the day to day. What matters most is that I’m on a journey to discovering who I am. What matters most is that “family” can be anyone or anything I decide it to be. What matters most is the sense of self that is emerging. What really matters is that I don’t wallow in self-pity—though I think it would be allowed after some of the things I’ve been though over the last year or so.
Here’s my confession: What matters is that I am surrounded by people who support me. I’m surrounded by a family of my own making. What matters most to me is that even at my loneliest, most difficult moments, I have something money can’t buy. I have friends. See, what I’m trying to say, is that with all the “stuff” in life, with all the trials, the struggles, the worries, the frustrations, fears; with all the happiness, the joy, the excitement and good things, that what matters most in my life isn’t the “things” that I have or don’t have. It’s the people who are by my side figuratively and literally each and every step each and every single day. The most important things in life aren’t things. They are the people, the memories, the love that we hold so dear.
I’ve wrestled with so many thoughts. Does it matter that my relationship with my family of origin is practically nil? Not really. Does it matter that I feel like I’m stuck trying to figure out the next move in life is? Does it matter that I am wondering where I belong professionally? No.
What matters most is the day to day. What matters most is that I’m on a journey to discovering who I am. What matters most is that “family” can be anyone or anything I decide it to be. What matters most is the sense of self that is emerging. What really matters is that I don’t wallow in self-pity—though I think it would be allowed after some of the things I’ve been though over the last year or so.
Here’s my confession: What matters is that I am surrounded by people who support me. I’m surrounded by a family of my own making. What matters most to me is that even at my loneliest, most difficult moments, I have something money can’t buy. I have friends. See, what I’m trying to say, is that with all the “stuff” in life, with all the trials, the struggles, the worries, the frustrations, fears; with all the happiness, the joy, the excitement and good things, that what matters most in my life isn’t the “things” that I have or don’t have. It’s the people who are by my side figuratively and literally each and every step each and every single day. The most important things in life aren’t things. They are the people, the memories, the love that we hold so dear.
Monday, February 1, 2010
SOMEWHERE BEYOND
Somewhere beyond the confusion of today
Somewhere beyond the yearnings for yesterday
Somewhere beyond the madness of the morrows,
There is peace.
Somewhere beyond the resentment
Somewhere beyond the disdain
Somewhere beyond the silence
There is healing.
Somewhere beyond the questions
Somewhere beyond the answers
Somewhere beyond the truth
There is clarity.
Somewhere beyond the hurt feelings
Somewhere beyond the harsh words
Somewhere beyond the disappointments
There is reconciliation.
Somewhere beyond the mistakes
Somewhere beyond the successes
Somewhere beyond the pointing of fingers
There is forgiveness.
Somewhere beyond the peace
Somewhere beyond the healing
Somewhere beyond the clarity
Somewhere beyond the reconciliation
Somewhere beyond the forgiveness
There is closure.
Here’s my confession: One day it will come. The peace, the healing, the clarity, the reconciliation and beyond the forgiveness, there is closure. Whether that healing comes in the living years,or during the final good-bye, I have to rest in the peace that I’ve reached out. I’ve sought peace. Someday it will happen, suddenly—living or dead—and I will emerge clothed in peace. Silence will be replaced with answers, and answers with peace. Somewhere, I have to think that perhaps she(my mother)is out there wondering about me, too. Somewhere there's a path. Somewhere, Somewhere beyond…
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