I'm pro choice

There are some things that can't be avoided.  Yet there are many situations where the choice is ours to make.   
I had intended to start this post out with a quote by a famous 20th Century poet.  The quote itself is excellent and to the point, but the poet and her life is a different story entirely.  I like words, almost as much as I like music.  Words are powerful.  It may not be true that the pen is mightier than the sword, but for certain they both can be just as effective. 

Adrienne Rich, now a renown lesbian movement phenom, had many choices to make.  According to an Internet biography, she is the daughter of Arnold Rice Rich who was a professor of medicine at Johns Hopkins Medical School.  Born around the 1930's, her feminism had many obstacles to overcome before it became full swing.  For one, her father was hoping to groom her to be a pathologist or something similar to his own profession.  Her second "obstacle",was her family's Christian values and beliefs concerning matters of the home.  Which (according to her own words) led her to believe that she needed to marry to become a more acceptable and successful woman in the world.
"I married in part because I knew no better way to disconnect from my first family [...] I wanted what I saw as a full woman's life, whatever was possible."
 Marrying didn't hold her back much from her mission of self discovery and pushing the limits of society through her written words.  In the meantime, she gave birth three times to boys.  But the mother of three sons kept digging and chipping away through any means that she could muster.  Adrienne was said to be an extremist in the anti-war effort during Vietnam.  Her home was used as a gathering place for many Black Panther meetings.  While she fought all these grand battles against "The Man" and the system, her husband was losing his mind,; believing that she had lost hers already.  Alfred Conrad finally was divorced from her in the 70's, which became his final trigger to take his own life soon after. 
Adrienne continues her life and sexual exploration seemingly not mourning her late husband as any form of loss.  Her success continues to this day through her many published works.

This story makes me sick to my stomach.  Not because she's a lesbian now, or because she was a pillar in the feminism movement; but for her lack of concern for anyone around her.  I understand that some people will read about her life and become inspired to break free of their own chains that hold them back, but I see something different. 
I see myself. 

I've never seen the movie Brokeback Mountain, but I have been tempted to - just from curiosity.   From what I've heard of the movie and seen in the trailers, these two men who find love in their eyes for each other, both have wives waiting at home for them...trusting them to be the faithful men that they promised to be.  To me, that doesn't make for an entertaining movie.
The whole idea of branching out and "finding yourself" is very popular today, and for good reason.  It's powerful.  It's self indulgent nature, to run away as far as you need to go and to push as hard as you need to push and trample down the ones who deserve to be trampled because they got in your way of finding your happily ever after, is very appealing.    It's compelling and attractive ....until you open your eyes and become resensitized to the lives that you've hurt in the name of "I".   

I visited another church this past Sunday.  It was a small congregation full of younger attractive men and women.  There was only one person that came to say "hello".  When she introduced herself, I was preoccupied thinking about my sticky hands from my kids donuts that they had grabbed before the service, that I didn't hear her name.  It was a casual conversation and I honestly didn't feel much about it, even after realizing how beautiful the woman was sitting next to me.  Everyone has a "type" and she fit the description for mine; I knew it and brushed it aside.  Before I excused myself to the bathroom to wash off the mess still on my fingers, I thought to ask for her name again.  I hesitated because for a split second, I was unsure of "why" I wanted to know.  So I walked away...  Later that morning, she was in my line of sight again, and I experienced what men would refer to as a "turn on" or in the world of Wayne (aka Wayne's World), a "shwing".  This happens a lot when I'm around attractive ladies, and I feel awkward and ashamed every time.  I cannot deny that I like feeling that way though.  That kind of physical stimuli is important to me.  Is it important enough to act on it and leave my family in the dust just to experience more?  Absolutely not!  
But that is MY choice.

I was thinking....

It's been awhile since I stepped in front of a car ...I think I should write a new one.  I'll be typing it up tomorrow morning.  So check back on your lunch break.

Perfectly Imperfect and proud of it

I have observed the power of the watermelon seed.  It has the power of drawing from the ground and through itself 200,000 times its weight.  When you can tell me how it takes this material and out of it colors an outside surface beyond the imitation of art and then forms inside of it a white rind and within that again a red heart, thickly inlaid with black seeds each one of which in turn is capable of drawing through itself 200,000 times its weight - when you can explain to me the mystery of a watermelon, you can ask me to explain the mystery of God.     ~William Jennings Bryan

We are all created perfectly imperfect.  God thinks I'm useful, but I feel like the biggest screw-up that has walked the earth.  I remember that Paul who wrote the majority of the New Testament in the Bible,  characterized himself in a similar way.  So do we all think we are the worst of the worst? 

"It seems that my greatest argument is denial."
One of the readers wrote back to me asking what exactly I was denying?  I prefaced my answer by saying that what I meant by "denial" was more like living in the state of, rather than just denying one thing or another.  More to the point, I live within my own set of expectations that I place upon myself, and assume that those beliefs about me are equal to God's. 
How is it even possible that I would expect more from me than God, Himself? 

I have believed that the show of my life should look spotless with my obedience to God and His will.   When I fall short, I beat myself down; not just for my "sin" but because of my imperfection.  My imperfect nature causes me constant frustration and self-ridicule.  I don't mean to argue with God about anything, but when I consider myself only created to fail, that's exactly what I'm doing. 
I'm still fighting off the ghosts of my past.  I know that reprogramming takes time.  I am beginning to realize how unnecessary it is to hate myself over that, when my expectations in God and myself are not met.


If God tells me to "Jump" or if He tells me to "Stay" in my troubled marriage or if He says "Keep on living" when I feel like giving up because I failed again....I need to remember that He is God and He will have His way, whether I argue with Him or not.
 
God, understanding this imperfect nature and my impulses to do things the wrong way, still chooses me for His work.  He still wants me, to love ....and then to love Him.

I AM the greatest

I expect so much from myself, yet I trust myself with so little.


Getting down to it, I always thought that if God says "Jump!" Your response should be "How high?" if not just to jump immediately. And if you think yourself unable to perform said action, for example (given the analogy) you are a cripple, your response should be the same. BECAUSE He's God! Who can argue with Him? ......Who am I to argue with Him?

Arguing with God... that reminds me of many "greats" written about in the Bible.

There was Jonah, probably the most common arguer remembered. He argued because he believed that God WOULD do the unthinkable or impossible, and he didn't want that to happen. God had to send a large mouth to talk some better sense to him. And even though Jonah eventually obeyed God's command, his heart never seemed to change.

I think most people forget that Moses argued with God. Before he became known for the Ten Commandments and the Twelve Plagues, Moses was a fugitive and a runaway. When God approached him about the mission "Save Israel", Moses had already made a life for himself and was happy and content to live out his days in it. He understood who God was and his position that he deserved, at His feet. He didn't understand why God would ask him to leave where he was at peace, to go and start a war with Egypt. More specifically, Moses argued that you got the wrong guy, God. Saying, "Surely YOU can do better than me!" So God said "Fine! Would it make you feel better, if I gave you an assistant?".
God wasn't budging from his plan to send Moses or Jonah, and he found the right ways to make them understand that.

The last character that comes to mind is Peter. Simon Peter had the balls to argue with God right to His face. Jesus gave Peter his horoscope and Peter said, "No way! I would never. You're wrong God!" To put it simply, Peter argued whether God really knew him better than he knew himself. In the end, fear and/or embarrassment won out over what Pete knew was right. The power of a moment and the loss of logical thought processes that goes with, was proven true right there with him. God knew he would fail, and told him so. Peter believed himself to be better than that though, even though that required him to debate with what he believed was the son of God. 

These are the "greats" folks. Yet here I sit, expecting more from myself than them.
It seems that my greatest argument is denial.


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I would like to do a follow up post on this. Please keep checking back for that!

Gay/Bi/Lesbian or Straight - I was born this way

I handed my MP3 player off to my husband, and forgot that he had it when I drove away. So I was, in turn, "forced" to listen to the Top 40 over the radio on the way home. This song by Lady Gaga was number 15 this week.
Your thoughts?

Celebrating A full year of honesty

As of last month, it has been a year since my first blog entry.  A full year of telling honest details about my past and present, many of which I have never spoken to anyone else before.  And so I thought it was only right and fair that I let you know a little more truth about how I can write all this and also the difficulties that it presents. 

The pro:  I have gained confidence in myself by releasing the fear that kept me captive for so long.
        I started out alone with the feeling that I was doomed to forever be that way.  Me with my secrets that I would try to force out of my life only for them to reappear again and again; making my new life seem like just another lie.  I thought if people only knew the truth about me, they would hate me.  There might be rope involved even.  Unrealistic, maybe, but that was my fear.  I was taught to look at homosexuals etc like they were sick in the head, and damned for what they were and what they did.  As Christians we say, "to love the sinner and hate the sin", but many times while we are "hating the sin", the sin is all we ever see.  I hated me; because I thought that was what a Christian would do.  But with this blog and sharing with others (including other Christians) I have found that it is love and not hate that was on the other side.  Sure, people have advice and want to help, but the looks I get are not disgust.  The hugs I get are not given a second thought of hesitation.  There are no pitch forks or angry mobs coming after me, and knowing that brings relief.  I am thankful to God and to my readers for being adult about all of this.  I am most thankful that they are more grown up than me.  But I'm getting there....


The con:  I am not objective to my own life.
         With everything that I talk about or write about myself, even in past events, I write from my point of view.  But my point of view is tainted, limited.  As I move further away from where I was to where I am, some things get clearer and I start to make connections.   Yet there is always me and my perception that gets in the way.  This makes writing and truthfulness exceptionally hard.  I am trying to self analyze my situation, and come out of it with some logical solutions.   That's impossible!   I try to explain my thoughts and feeling about things, things- I still don't understand.  I pick my motivations/actions apart looking for answers, knowing that I will eventually (possibly even the next week) come back to what I just wrote and disagree with my conclusions.  In short, the biggest con is confusion.  
The only clarity that I have ever found in this life can be summed up in one word, "Christ".    When I choose Him over me, if I think more about Him and less about me, I find that open sky. 

I don't mean to preach.  This "blog" (I hate that word btw) was always meant to be a safe place for anyone/everyone to share their thoughts and beliefs.  I'd like to think that it's still that safe place.  And this my belief.   
I can't wait to hear yours.

Strategies of Defense

"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."


I recognize that most everyone who has been, teased, hazed, publicly embarrassed, or in some other way broken down has had reason to develop a strategy of protection for future attacks. We each write our own chapter of defensive maneuvers. And although these strategies might differ greatly, one from another, they always share one thing in common. They are top secret.


Who am I? ...and What is "cool"?    Whatever it is, it has been the center and primary cause of my personal transformation. that which has been carried on to what I am today   Yet "cool" is also the cause of everything I have lost of what I was before. US magazine and Seventeen might think that a plus for my personality, but the upkeep of coolness has left me void of the real me. This is much more than identity issues or premid-life crisis. The pursuit after cliche' greatness was put into action by yours truly as a defense. [Without putting my life now up to a microscope for everyone to point out all my "uncool" ways, let me just say, that is missing the point.]   I changed who I was to fit in with the masses (one or another). The old me cowered under ridicule and persecution so much that a new me had to be made. The inevitable question is, would I have put so much effort into following fads if I had never been tease?

Loneliness is what I felt when I was alone. When I was around others, I was too self aware of every action and interaction to pay much attention to how I felt about my life. Not a detail would go undocumented inside my head. If I felt in a potential threatening situation,( i.e. being around people that could seriously tear me down) even something as simple as how I crossed my legs would be carefully considered. Every word, every tone, inflection, and body language was imprinted inside my memory to soon after recall and replay under high self scrutiny later on. Sometimes, I might congratulate myself on a job well done, other times...not so much. I was always on the lookout for new and better tactics. I would find those sometimes in movies, in music lyrics, from others conservations, and sometimes just watching people in a crowded area like a restaurant or mall would give me improvised ideas. But the loneliness was always there, waiting to remind me that I was fake.

After years of progression away from the original Kayt, the process of faking it, didn't take so much thought. This was the me that I created. The me that hate had made. I still clung onto God. He was the only one that knew from where I came. I think that was what really kept us close. A seemingly silent and faceless figure was the only one that knew my secrets. He offered me His always listening ear, and the closest thing to cure my pain in the down times; times when all I would want to pray for was for someone who understood. I longed for someone to know me. I hoped and prayed for that even long after I even acknowledged to myself that I was indeed faking. I had become unaware of all the acting that I was doing on a daily basis, but still aware of the feeling it left behind.

I think I would have put up a moat around myself, if I thought it would've kept the monsters out. Unfortunately, the monsters lived mostly in my memories and through those same voices replaying inside my head. I was like Scooby and Shaggy piling everything in front of the door that the monster had come through before, thinking I had him all locked out. Then I turn around and see that the monster was the one helping me and now I'm trapped inside because of the barricade that I have made to keep him out.

My relationships have suffered over this. Including friendships, potential friendships, extended family relationships, and of course the relationship that I have with my spouse.  In fact, Drew and I had a conversation about my "coolness" the other day. You see, when Drew and I met, I had him fooled. There was not much effort put to it, or even aimed in his direction, because it was just habit by then. He later told me just how intimidating I was to him, appearing to have it all together. As we got closer the walls started to come down a bit, especially after I confessed my attraction to women to him and details about my past. But it wasn't till our conversation recently that I realized, I'm still putting on that face for him and when I do, I start to believe in that tough and confidently cool girl that I portray. I start to believe that she is me, the real me. ....And that I'm better than him.

It's not me. It becomes me. Sometimes that's okay, but what is my motivation?

I started out running away from dresses; loving dirt and the outdoors. Others did not approve of my hair style, my walk, my clothes, and the activities I enjoyed so I sought after someone more feminine than me. And behind my eyes, I pretended to be her. "Her" was not any one person but a compilation of many. I got into character for the role that I needed to play. Rosa was my inspiration to improve my character to someone who would attract men. She was flirtatious, but still innocent and smart. She would dumb herself down just for those occasions to get a boy to like her. The clothes were easier to change than the walk. With the walk, I really had to practice. One foot in front of the other like on a tight rope, but with sass and confidence, never ever look down. At a time in my life when I should have been modeling myself after Christ, I was putting all my energy into my cover-up. 

I know it's not just me. Many others practice their faces in the mirror before heading out to work, church, or school. We took the imagination that used to take us to far off places as children, and created a more acceptable and less afraid adult. Many of us don't even recognize our created characters anymore. We have done it for so long, that we don't know what is happening to us when the real begins to show through. It's shocking and frightening, like we are losing control. And we must always be in control.
What would happen if we let it show?

Janet is going through a divorce. She has two kids; one from a previous marriage gone wrong. And Janet is worried about letting people in on her crumbling marriage. She thinks people gossip about her husband and family already and of course that bothers her. She was the one who left this time, and he acts like he wants her back. But her mind is made up. She's done. Although when they go to public events they are together. In church they sit together. They shake hands together. He leads her into the room with his hand on the small of her back. I see this happening and I think, "That's great! I'm glad that they are working things out.", but they're not. Janet tells me that it's just an act, because she doesn't want to make a scene/scandal for people to talk about. And I can't believe what I'm hearing from her. She is hanging out with this guy pretending like everything is wonderful, when in reality she can't stand him anymore. She is willing to sacrifice so much just to save herself from possible ridicule. So she pretends in front of her friends.
Her friends.....

What if the monsters are just in our heads?
I mean, if we are all pulling the same tricks for each other, what would happen if someone had the courage to finally unwrap their mask? Would we have the courage to follow them? 
Or would we stand and point?


"If weakness is a wound that no one wants to speak of, then 'cool' is just how far we have to fall. And I am not immune, I only want to be loved, but I feel safe behind the firewall. Could I lose my need to impress? If you want the truth, I need to confess. I'm not alright."
-Sanctus Real

be patient

I have been working on a new post, but it's not quite ready yet.  I have been incredibly busy and when I have any free time, all I want to do is relax or go to bed.

But here's a hint about the next post:

Imagine...
Everything you appear to be is everything you're not. 

Believe...
There is more to life than just to make it through another day without being hurt again.

Follow...
In the footsteps back to your youth.  Things were not always this scary.  The monsters are real, but are not chasing you anymore. 

It's time...
For demolition.

Your time...
And mine, to finally be understood.