The real reason I was upset, and it wasn't what I thought it was.

Todd's son lives in another state. He moved there a while ago, and Todd hasn't been to visit. They've asked him to come, but it hasn't worked out yet.

A couple weeks ago, we bought plane tickets. Todd talked to them before we bought the tickets to make sure it was okay, and it was. Last night, he got a phone call: we can stay there, but we won't be sleeping in the same room.

I didn't see that coming.
I'm sure my own family doesn't love that I live with Todd, and we aren't married, but it stopped being an issue before it ever was an issue with them. We went on vacation with my parents and siblings, and it didn't seem like they cared. We have stayed with Todd's siblings, his parents, and his daughters, and it didn't seem like an issue with any of them.

I was really upset.
I am aware that asking us to sleep in different rooms isn't a horrible thing to ask.  It seemed illogical - even to me - to be so sad and hurt.
Illogical or not, it hurt.

Here's the reason. It has nothing to do with religion or intolerance or them not liking who we are or all the reasons that made sense at first. It has everything to do with what they are really asking of me (without knowing it of course).

I have a tough time at nights. I've learned to cope, and I can sleep in my own house, with Todd next to me. I learned to cope before I was sleeping with Todd - but now that THAT is my normal, it will take a long time for me to readjust. And honestly, with Todd, I feel safe in a way I never felt before. I still have some sleepless nights, but mostly his presence has changed my nightly battle completely. I coped in the past. Now, I rest.

Any new place is hard, but with Todd there, I can get comfortable. Even in my house, when he's not here, I struggle.

At night when he's not around, my body and my brain go on high alert. Hyper-vigilance is the technical term. I am aware of every noise, every smell, every movement, and they all feel like a threat. I can think it through and know I am safe, but I can't think and sleep at the same time. As I start to fall asleep, thinking brain turns off, and my PTSD brain takes over. That is a scary place to be. I stay awake all night thinking it through, so I feel safe, and morning comes without rest.

With him there, I don't have to think, I just feel safe. (Most of the time.)

Four nights in a new house with other people in it, I can pretty much plan on not sleeping at all.
(It's made worse by the fact that one of the people there is male. I'm not afraid of Todd's son when I'm awake, but there's nothing rational about the PTSD brain when I want to be sleeping.)

I feel broken. I feel crazy and stupid... and sad.
A grown woman who can't feel safe enough to sleep without someone else there. And it's just not fair... (I know, life isn't fair, so... shut up... but for just a minute, I'm going to whine.) I didn't choose this life. I didn't choose for any of the stuff that happened that left me with an inability to sleep without a lot of help. If Todd goes on a trip without me, I don't sleep. I will rarely go on trips without him, because it's not really worth not sleeping. (It turns out, now that I sleep regularly, I really like it. Even one night without it, makes me cranky and tired.) I make do with the way things are, but it sucks. It's sad. It's just really sad that I have to deal with any of this.
I'm broken. I'm crazy. And I didn't choose any of it. And I feel stupid and ashamed, as if there is something that I could have or should have done in the past... or in the present... I shouldn't talk about it. I should pretend to be fine, but I'm not... and there's a crazy battle going on in my head about what I'm supposed to do. 

So, do I talk to them? Do I tell them what's going on for me - maybe they will change their mind? Maybe they won't. (I fully support them making decisions for what they accept and/or expect in their home. With more information, they may make a different decision, but it is still their decision to make.) At least if I'm honest, I can know I was honest.

Do we just go and get a hotel room?

Do I stay home, knowing I may not sleep, but at least I will be in my own house? Todd can visit his son and his family, and I don't need to be there.

Do I do what they ask, and deal with the consequences, which might not be as bad as I suspect they will? Maybe I'll be fine...

We could always just get married to make them happy... But I'm thinking that is a bad reason to make a decision like marriage.

Here's what I know.
I want to go. I want to stay at their home. I want to have a relationship with them, which makes me want to be honest with them. I'm afraid. I don't like talking about past traumas, and I REALLY don't like talking about how it still effects me. I don't like writing about it anymore. I don't like paying attention to it (when I can ignore it). I don't like telling other people about it, and seeing the look in their face when they realize some of what I've been through. (It's a good thing I've been going to therapy, where I spend a good portion of the time letting Wendy empathize with me and the horses support me. Ugh.)

They have every right to make whatever decision they will make, and I will support their decision for their home. I also want to take care of myself, which means if they decide to still have us sleep in separate rooms, it's probably not a good idea for me to try to sleep there. There may come a day, but I'm not there yet.

Also, I'm not willing to get married just to make them happy, or so that we can stay in their house in the same room. (I also don't really think that would make them happy, or it is really what they would want anyway. Just wanted to say, if it was what they wanted, I'm not willing to do it.)

Far Between: Me!

I can't remember when exactly I did the interview with Kendall at Far Between. More than a year ago... It felt cathartic to tell my story, and to see how people responded in the moment to my heartbreaks and sadness and to the hope and peace I'd found.

Today, they have the edited interview up to view.
Here it is:



You can also visit their page here: http://farbetweenmovie.com/jennifer/

No More Strangers: Check me out!

There's a guest post on No More Strangers by me!

It's a little nerve wracking. Even though I have a public blog where I write about all sorts of things, it still feels scary to put my story out there more.

But there it is.

Go check it out. Add your comments. (I ALWAYS love comments, but it seems I love them even more and might even need them on a post like that one. I feel really vulnerable, and hearing what people actually think, instead of what I think they think, is really helpful.)

Book of Mormon Musical: dinner conversations

After seeing Book of Mormon Musical, I had all these thoughts I was going to write about, but something strange happened:

I told my mom I was going to go see it. I didn't think she would think that was cool, but for my own sanity, I felt like I needed to tell her. (When I start keeping things secret because I'm afraid of what other people will think about me, I start to go crazy. It doesn't really matter what the secret is... just having a "secret" makes me lose my mind.)

I was at dinner with my parents and siblings, and my mom turned to me and said, "Are you going to tell everyone about your trip this week?"

I got all nervous, and asked her if it was really okay if I tell people.
She laughed at me, which was a totally appropriate response, and then I had a conversation about why I like the Book of Mormon Musical with my whole family. I talked about why I went, and why I loved it. I also talked about what I didn't like. And my dad and brothers talked about what they liked and didn't like (at least as much as they'd heard).

I never thought that conversation could happen, because... well... I thought they wouldn't want to hear about it. It's cool that we can all talk about the things we care about - even though the things we each care about seem to contradict each other.

It's like the things don't matter, but the people do.

So... now I don't really feel like trying to write any more blogs about the musical. Maybe later. (I really do want to write about what each of the songs meant to me, because the music was really healing for me...)

Relatives say the darndest things

I went to my Grandma's wedding last night. I may write more about that later...
I just wanted to share this conversation I had with one of my aunts:


"So, are you dating anyone? Getting married soon?"

No.

"Why not? Do you hate men now or something?"

No. I love men. I just don't want to marry one.

"You have to get married so you can have kids."

No. I don't want to get married, and I don't want kids.

"How can you not want kids?"

Easy. Some people want to be mothers. Some people want to be doctors. Some people want to be computer programmers.

"So, what are you going to do? Ride horses and fish for the rest of your life?"

Does that really sound so bad?

"No... Actually. It doesn't."

 And she walked away.
 

It feels amazing to be able to just answer questions. Honestly. As ME. Instead of trying to say what I think they want to hear... It turns out, it really is MY life. I want what I want for my life, and that's okay.

Emotional Intimacy

I heard a quote the other day:

"How do you know when you are being emotionally intimate with another person? 
When you feel anxious and afraid of how the other person will react to what you are sharing, that is when you are being emotionally intimate."

That kind of blew my mind. It's been rumbling around in my head for several days now.

In my post a few days ago, I talked about how intimacy requires saying what you mean to say. Being honest about anger, pain, love, happiness... I talked about how afraid I was to talk about my anger and my pain. I was afraid of getting hurt. Sometimes, literally PHYSICALLY hurt. I was also afraid of being criticized, demeaned, or humiliated. I was afraid of the things I said being used against me at a later date. I was afraid of so many things, so I kept my anger and pain to myself. I thought for so long that I didn't deserve to be treated with kindness and respect if I wasn't doing everything everyone wanted me to do, and that feeling and belief drove my fear... which kept me from expressing... well... anything.

I like this new idea of what intimacy is... It makes so much sense to me...
Saying, "no", requires more trust (for me) than doing what the other person asks of me.
And thinking about the people that I like having in my life: They accept my boundaries. When I say, "No," they don't push me. They are still kind to me and treat me with respect even when I don't do everything they want me to do. It would be IMPOSSIBLE to have an intimate relationship if it wasn't safe for me to be honest... say no; I don't like that; I don't want that; please don't... Completely impossible to have any level of intimacy if "No" is not an option.

Argh! Even now, I hear voices from other people telling me, "It is selfish."
I hear myself saying, "It's no big deal. I can handle it."
Or the fear of retribution from some... the ones who don't understand what a healthy relationship is... thinking that it is okay to respond with hurtful words or actions if I don't do what they want.

But I go back to what I would want for those that I care about. I would want them to be respected. I wouldn't think it was selfish of them to take care of themselves... in reality... seeing others stand up for themselves and take care of themselves has created many beautiful friendships.  (My FAVORITE moment with BJ, "I'm going to take care of myself. I'm going to do what I want, and if you don't like it, then FUCK YOU!" At the time, I resisted the urge to smile... I didn't want to ruin the moment. It felt AWESOME! Loved seeing that he could and would stand up for himself... even "against" me... That was hard and scary for him to say: Completely goes against HIS need to please everyone... which is probably a big reason we became such good friends. He trusted me, and I responded in a way that showed I knew him and I respected him.)
 I wouldn't want them to force themselves to do things they don't want to do because "It's not big deal."
And I hope that if I ever say or do hurtful things, they would get themselves away from me to a safe place. I don't want to hurt anyone.


Respecting boundaries doesn't mean that they don't share feelings. If I say, "No. I don't want to spend the day with you," then a healthy response (if it's true) would be, "I feel sad and disappointed. I really wanted to spend the day with YOU." I respect their feelings and don't try to change what they are feeling... they respect my feelings and don't try to change what I am feeling... I share what I need to share, and I allow others the freedom to respond in the way that is truest to them. (And as always, if their response is abusive, I can let them know, I can choose not to be around them, or any option... I always have the freedom to get out of a situation that is harmful or toxic to me.)

Still learning. Still exploring. Still thinking.
What are YOUR thoughts on this idea of intimacy??

August 2010: My commandments for a healthy relationship

I was looking through my journal tonight... August 8, 2010... I wrote this...
Just felt like sharing it today.

Spent the day at the LDS gift show. A whole bunch of products to promote the ideals of the church.
My "favorite" was a plaque:

"Commandments of a Happy Marriage"
1. Thou shalt always remember that thy marriage is a partnership between thee and thy spouse and the Lord. For in knowing this, thou wilt have the strength, courage, and determination to conquer all challenges that may come into thy marriage.
2. Thou shalt cleave unto thy spouse and let not thine eyes wander, nor do anything like unto it. For it is through fidelity and commitment that thou shalt find confidence and trust.
3. Thou shalt not be selfish with thy time, nor with thy money, nor with anything else that is thine. For in doing this thou shalt avoid resentment and find harmony.
4. Thou shalt remember that thy parents are good, but need to give thee space in thy marriage. For it is through relying upon each other that communication and unity is formed.
5. Thou shalt always remember to call thy spouse sweetheart, honey, or whatever else that makes them happy and to remember the little things. For it is through little acts of kindness that thou shalt find love and tenderness.
6. Thou shalt remember to always use kind words and cease to find fault with thy spouse. For in doing this thou shalt find peace.
7. Thou shalt enjoy each others company and remember to date often. For it is in spending time together that one truly gets to know their spouse and find intimacy.
8. Thou shalt add the words "I'm sorry" to thy vocabulary and use them often. For in doing this thou shalt melt down the barriers of anger and resentment and find mutual forgiveness.
9. Thou shalt recognize and acknowledge the desires, efforts and accomplishments of thy spouse. For in this thou shalt find appreciation and gratitude for one another.
10. Thou shalt live within thy means and learn the difference between wants and needs. For in doing this thou shalt avoid needless stress and find contentment.

I got angry. Angry enough that I finally wrote down what I want and my boundaries for my relationships. Not just marriage. ALL relationships. (This has been a therapy assignment for more than two years now... I just couldn't figure out what to write , or what to think, or how to think.)

My commandments for a HEALTHY relationship
I am free to come and go in this relationship as I feel the need. If the relationship is no longer healthy for me, I will leave. I am free. I am mine.
The relationship must be able to "stand on its own". I will not eliminate the things I love to make this relationship the "best" one. I will have many friends. I will have my own hobbies.
I will choose who my friends will be. (I will not be in a relationship where someone else tells me who my friends can and cannot be.)
I will talk about what I want, when I want, and to whom I want. (I will NOT keep secrets! I have the right to choose what and when I share with you also.)
I have the right to say no to any request, at any time for any reason... so do you.
I will take care of my needs. I expect you to take care of yours.
My body is mine. Period. I choose when and what I share with you. Every time.
I will be honest about my thoughts, feelings, and who I am. I expect the same from you.
When I'm feeling hurt, angry, or sad, I will talk to you.
When I'm feeling happy, grateful, or loving, I will talk to you.
I am not your honey, your sweetheart, your anything. Please call me by name.
I am me. I will always try to be the best me I can be. Defined by me.
You are you. I expect you to be the best you, you can be. Defined by you.
Trust is something that must be earned. I do not have to give it freely.

I know these go against everything I have ever been taught... They seem selfish and self-centered... But... THIS is how I plan to live. This is how I want the people I love to live.

Honesty is the most important part of this. Honest about the love I feel. The hurt I feel. Who I am. What I want. And the same kind of honesty from you. That is the only way.

Honesty and Freedom = Love

To my family: Thank you for making me SO wrong.

Sometimes I get a glimpse of what it must have been like to be my friend a few years ago...
I forced myself to go to church. It made me crazy. I was a mess of anxiety leading up to it, and then a slightly different kind of mess after it. BJ would ask me every single week, "Why do you do this to yourself? You don't have to go. Just stop. It's hurting you, so stop."

My reply was always, "I HAVE to. What will people think of me? It will hurt my family if I don't go. It would be better that I was dead than to not be what they want me to be," and I'd keep on doing what I thought everyone else wanted me to do. He never told me not to. I know it killed him to watch me constantly putting myself in that situation, but he let me find my own way.

In the meantime, I kept finding evidence that I was right: My family would disown me if I didn't do what they wanted. They never came right out and said, "If you are honest about who you are, it will hurt us," but I believed it. I can only imagine how it would have messed me up if they had said it. I couldn't handle the thought of hurting them or making them unhappy, so I'd keep trying to please everyone else, while slowly killing myself. I made myself crazy trying to live the life everyone else wanted me to live.

And then one day, I got it. I made the decision that I was not going to let fear or guilt run my life. People that tried to use fear or guilt to manipulate me were just gone. I didn't talk to them anymore. If a situation felt manipulative, I walked out. I got it.

I stopped going to church. I got honest. I told my family and some friends how I really feel, and who I want to be, and who I am deep down inside. It didn't create the hell I thought it would - in fact exactly the opposite happened.

I found REAL relationships. REAL love. My family is amazing.
I have had some friends call me to repentance and tell me how much I am hurting myself and others by not doing what THEY think I should. Fuck them. I don't need them in my life, because I know what it feels like to have REAL love. (ok. not fuck them. More like... goodbye, I'll miss you. I'm here to be your friend if you ever change.)

I don't know why my family got it. HOW they got it, because I know that many MANY members of the church do NOT get it. They keep right on being manipulative, controlling, emotionally abusive people. They keep right on hurting the ones they "love" in the name of "love". And most of them never see it. They don't even have a clue of the pain they are causing.

I tried to explain this to my parents and sister once. My mom kept telling me that, "I can't imagine saying those kinds of things to someone I love. EVER," She thought she was normal, and the stories of the things people have said (and continue to say) to my friends are odd.


"I'm not that amazing... Most people would have handled things the way I handled things."

No. Mom. They don't.

Here are some of the amazing things my family did that most won't do.

My records are currently in my parents' ward, because they couldn't find me... When the clerk asked my sister why they were there. She told them, honestly, exactly why, "Jen isn't a part of the church, doesn't want to be, and it's just better if her records stay here. She doesn't want them where she is living." I cried when she told me, because that means... She is listening to ME. She doesn't have some preconceived notion of what is best for me, she isn't trying to control me or change me or to get my bishop to get me back to church. She cares about ME enough to hear ME.

I was visiting my parents when their bishopric stopped by.
I was in the kitchen, from the living room my mom shouted, "Oh. HI Bishopric!" It was a message to me, "Jen, the bishopric are here. I know how much these guys could possibly freak you out. Don't know how to handle it other than to just let you know by shouting it out, and emphasizing it awkwardly." I froze in the kitchen, waited a bit, and then I left. As soon as they were gone, my mom called me and we laughed at it all. This doesn't seem like much to my mom, but it is HUGE to anyone that has left the church. Most people don't treat us with that much respect.

(Incidentally, the bishopric were coming because my sister's father-in-law talked to the bishopric to get them to go reactivate his son. My parents are not just awesome when it comes to me... They are also awesome when it comes to their son-in-law. To the bishopric they said, "Actually, this is exactly the problem. His parents can't figure out how to stop being controlling, crazy people, and they keep pulling stunts like this one in order to get him to do what they think he should. If he decides to go back to church, we'll all support him. In the meantime... just let him be.")

My dad and I have had many discussions. We talk openly. He's aware that he can't answer many of my questions, so he doesn't try. We just talk about them... And in the end, he always says, "I love you, and I trust you," and I think he really means it. I FEEL that from him. He has told me he totally supports me not going to church, because he wants me to love ME, and the church just gets in my way. He knows me, and loves me, and it still makes me cry happy tears when I think about it.

My youngest brother posted this on my facebook wall, "So apparently there's a guy that used to work at BYU who is working on a documentary about being gay and Mormon, called "Far Between" It's not out yet, but it seemed like something you'd be interested in." I am aware of the documentary, I even know the man that he is talking about. (I even considered submitting my story of being asexual for it, but I don't think I will.) What amazed me is that he is paying attention to things that interest me. I care deeply about LGBT rights, and he knows it. Again... he may not understand how impressive that is, but I want him to know... That's impressive.

On Thanksgiving, I was nervous about seeing extended family. (As it turns out, I didn't have to be. My dad didn't want me to have to deal with awkward questions... He told my grandparents I've left the church, and told them I was happier. He told them he supported me and my decisions. And he wasn't just saying it, he MEANS it. Do you know how amazing THAT is?) I was trying to get more honest with my extended family, so I talked to my grandma about fishing and riding on Sundays. I talked about my roommate BJ, and she remembered meeting him. He and my grandpa talked about fly-fishing. As I was leaving, my GRANDMA  just said, "You are happy, so you must be doing something right, just keep on being happy."

In the process, before I left, I was not happy. I was miserable. It is hard to face the possibility that I might lose everything if I am true to myself. I questioned whether it was really worth it. If I had known the kind of people that I have surrounding me, I wouldn't have had to question. Unfortunately, in the process of leaving, you don't know the kind of people you have in your life until you've stepped out and been honest, and then they show you. You have to face the fear of losing them before you can make the choice that might make them leave you.

As I've shared my life with my brothers, I've been surprised to hear them say, "I just want you to be happy," and they mean it.

I believed for so long that when people told me they "just wanted me to be happy" what they really meant was, "I want you to be happy as long as you do it my way." There ARE a lot of people like that in this world. The church can create that idea. (There is only ONE TRUE way to happiness, so if you aren't doing what *I* think you should be doing, you're not happy... even if you think you are. I just want you to be happy, so do what I tell you to do, and if that doesn't make you happy, then repent.)

These are just a few examples... I have stories like these happen all the time. It is more than just what they do, it is who they are and how they treat me ALL the time. (Hard to explain, but I'll try.) My parents actually mean what they say. They really do love me and trust me. I know the way my extended family is treating me is directly related to the wonderful way my parents are treating me. Their love and respect is making all of the difference in the world. I couldn't make them do that. I didn't get to choose their reaction, but if I DID get to choose, it would have been exactly like this.



I suppose what I want to say is, "Thank you."
Thank you for loving me. Thank you for listening to me. Thank you for not getting caught up in the stories. Thank you for trusting me to live my own life. Thank you for not trying to change me. Thank you for accepting me. Thank you. Sometimes, I'm still afraid of what you'll think of me, and I'm still afraid you won't love me... and yet, you have never left me. Thank you. Thank you for wanting ME in your lives. Thank you for not expecting me to continue to wear the mask or pretend in any way. Thank you for listening when I hurt. Thank you for being there with me through my confusion, and thank you for not thinking you know the way my confusion should be resolved. Because of you, my angry phase was much MUCH shorter than it could have been. I didn't have to get really angry to get out. I could leave (somewhat) quietly. I didn't have to fight against you in order to live my life. I thought I would. I was geared up for a big battle. I was geared up to lose everything. Thank you for making me SO wrong.

I love you. I am so grateful for you.

the end of a marriage or two

In June 2007, I was in pretty bad shape. Eating disorder, suicidal, self-harm, crazy, crazy, crazy... I kept trying to do the right things by going to church. I HATED it there. I'd been taught if I felt lonely at church to make friends, so I did. Every week, I talked to five new people plus made an effort to talk to the ones I wanted to get to know from the week before. DH and I had get-togethers at our home at least once a week and sometimes more often.

I'd also heard that if you're feeling depressed, you need to serve more. I did. I asked for another calling. I worked as a service missionary. I sent little notes to people. I went to the temple every week. (Plus working two jobs and trying to get my husband's business up and making money.) I was TRYING, and it wasn't working.

My husband was physically and emotionally abusive. Again, I thought it was a problem with me. I had talked to the bishop in our previous ward and told him about an incident where DH threw me into the wall. He gave me a book on communication in marriage. I felt like what he was saying was that if I just communicated better, then DH wouldn't have to hit me.

Bishop J seemed to take notice of me. He was very kind. He often asked me how I was doing. One night, after a violent fight with DH, I ran out of the house. I sat in the church parking lot, and called Bishop J's home. I think I hung up right after he answered... I SHOULDN'T talk about these things. But that phone call made him take more notice.

In August, we went to a ward campout. I, being obsessed with food and exercise, decided to walk up the mountain. Bishop J (BJ, cause I'm tired of writing it out) repeatedly asked DH why I would do that. It just didn't sit right with him, but he couldn't explain it.

He called me in to his office. I was afraid of him, so I brought DH with me. Every question BJ asked me, DH answered. I (apparently) sat there with my head down, pinching my own arms until I left marks, and he was VERY concerned. He finally got me to trust him enough to sit with him alone.

He asked a lot of questions that I didn't answer. I was TERRIFIED. He gave me his cell phone number and told me to call him anytime. One day, I took him up on the offer. I picked up the phone and asked him what he knew about eating disorders. Nothing. I told him that I had HAD an eating disorder when I was younger, thought I was recovered, but over the past few months have been really struggling. I told him that starving myself was an addiction, even if it didn't make sense.

He helped me find a therapist and a dietitian. Eventually, I told him about the physical abuse. I told him that my ex-husband had forced me to have sex. (BJ's the first one that ever used the word rape.) I told him about the EQ President that had assaulted me, but I couldn't remember what happened. I told him about the way my dad had treated his kids, and how I always believed I was worth less just because I was a girl. He is the first person I EVER opened up to...

BJ helped me get into treatment for the eating disorder. He helped arrange for the church to pay for my entire 90 day stay at one of the top places in the country. He came to visit me every week while I was there.

He also talked to me. He shared that he had been abused as a boy. I was the first person he ever shared the details of his molestation. I watched and wondered about why his wife NEVER came to church with him. (It was a student ward.) When she came to activities, I didn't like the way she treated people. It wasn't BAD, but I was very uncomfortable. (At the time, I interpreted that to mean there was something wrong with me. Bishop's wife = good. Jen = bad. Uncomfortable with bishop's wife = Jen's bad.) I asked him questions.He shared his frustration and loneliness. I listened.

After I got out of CFC, he started taking me horseback riding. He knew it went against what the Brethren said to do, and he both wanted to help me and wanted to spend time with me. (His words, not mine.) I LOVED riding. I LOVE horses. They brought healing in amazing ways. I enjoyed spending time with him. I felt loved in a way I had never known before.

DH was jealous, but also grateful. He didn't know how to deal with me. After I came back from CFC, panic attacks, nightmares, night terrors, flashbacks were WORSE. My eating was better, which made all of the pain I was trying to avoid very STRONG. DH would get really angry with me, yell and scream and say horrible things. (He stopped the physical violence when I went in to CFC in Feb 2008.) After he would yell, and I would leave, DH would call BJ and tell him what he'd done.

BJ would call me, and we'd talk. A few times, he would come and pick me up and we'd go to his house. He would repeatedly tell me that what DH was saying was abuse, and I didn't have to take that. In BJ's home, I heard his wife talk to him and say almost word for word the same bullshit DH had said to me just hours earlier. I was confused and angry.

The feeling that kept ruling me was, "Stop loving me! I can't keep going back and forth between the two worlds! Its making me crazy!!!" When I shared that feeling with him, he started to cry, and said, "I understand that feeling." I thought if I just got rid of HIM and that feeling of love, I could LIKE my marriage. But at the same time, once I knew that love, I couldn't go back... I couldn't pretend like I enjoyed the relationships I had known before.

In January 2009, he was released as bishop. I figured that would mean I wouldn't see him so much any more. My new bishop actually counseled me against that. He told me to keep in contact, because I still needed that friendship. BJ asked me to come work for him. I was unaware that the student stake Stake President told him not to have any contact with anyone from the ward.

BJ opened up to me more about the problems in his marriage. He shared with me that he planned on leaving her as soon as his kids were grown, which was very soon. I suggested therapy and marriage counseling. He went, and she refused.

My therapy was growing more intense, I was writing letters to former abusers. I was still dealing with nightmares and night terrors EVERY night. I was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder (think Multiple Personalities, but its not really like what you see on TV. Its more like a broken mirror. The fragments are all still basically the same, but they're not connected. Different emotions and memories took over as personalities. Jenni, the seven-year-old girl, talked about what it was like to go to her baptism interview. I couldn't remember those things, but she did.) My therapist decided I was not safe in the home with DH. He talked to my new bishop and BJ. I went and stayed in the BJ's home.

I thought it would be for a few nights. A week tops. While I pulled myself together. I got crazier. BJ was scared for my life. I believe I would have found some way to work it out, but BJ wasn't willing to let me. He became very unhealthy in his quest to keep me alive and to prove to me (and apparently to his wife) that I COULD and WOULD get better.

I continued to watch the way she treated him. And the way he treated himself. I BEGGED him to take care of himself, love himself, stop being a slave to what everyone else wanted. I thought she would love him enough to change. I thought if he stood up for himself, she would apologize and be different. She got more angry and more controlling (in my opinion). I thought maybe it was my fault...

I learned how to face my flashbacks. I learned how to make myself feel safe. I learned how to confront old memories and old beliefs and change them in my own mind. I made amazing progress. I am REALLY grateful I had someone who cared about me as much as he did. He sat with me at nights. He held my hand while my body went through being raped over and over and over again. I knew I was a great burden on him, and I often thought about taking my own life just so he wouldn't be burdened.

In April, I started looking for apartments. I couldn't go back to DH's home, because being around him made me worse. I also felt like I was safe enough that I would be okay in an apartment of my own. Bishop C (my new bishop) said he'd help pay the second rent for a few months.

Bishop C's attitude was that he was going to find a real slummer, so that I would have a reason to go back to DH. He didn't want to break up my marriage. I was very picky about where I was going to go. I HAD to feel safe. It couldn't be in a place where the guy upstairs creeped me out. Our differing opinions made it harder to find a place, but he found one at the end of May.

I "moved in" June 1st. (By moving in, I mean I slept there, but I refused to take anything but a change of clothes with me. I didn't want to get too comfortable, because I needed to go back to my husband.)

BJ told me he needed space from me. At first, I was confused. And angry. I didn't understand why he would tell me he couldn't talk to me NOW. I was getting better. He explained that he felt personally responsible for whether I lived or died, and he didn't want that responsibility anymore. He needed time to figure himself out. I realized that I wanted him to stand up for himself, and if that meant standing up to me, I was happy! It actually felt good to me to SEE someone do what they needed even if they were scared, or thought it was wrong, or felt bad, or guilty, or... Over the next month, I didn't talk to him or see him... Although I continued running his business while he was at his daughter's wedding and Scout camp.

In July, he invited me to go horseback riding. We talked about healthy relationships. I told him that if I was going to live or die based on what HE did, do us both the favor and let me die. I didn't want to live like that, and I didn't want him to live like that.

He bought the books, Codependent No More, and Too Nice for Your Own Good, and No More Mister Nice Guy. He continued going to therapy. She hated the books he was reading. I think she felt threatened by them. The two of us spent a lot of time talking about and defining healthy relationships, discussing the things he was reading.

I kept going to therapy. Working my ass off. BJ was still a huge support, but our relationship changed. We became good, close friends. Intimate, but not physically. We could talk about anything and everything. We had AWESOME discussions about everything. The most valuable to me were about the church. All of the doubts and questions he had, he shared with me. All of my pain surrounding the church, I could talk about. We got really angry together! Sometimes we'd disagree, but I was never afraid of him. He loved that I was willing to talk about everything.

In November, he told his wife that he was going to leave if she didn't go to therapy with him. She didn't go. She used a lot of excuses, and he has said maybe he could have begged more, but for whatever reason, it never happened.

In January 2010, my therapist (He's LDS.) started wondering and worrying about if BJ and I were growing close enough that we might have an affair. His exact words were, "You know how these things can happen." I cried. I DIDN'T know how normal people have normal sex because they WANT it. I had NEVER known that.

I had been raped. I had laid there while my DH got the job done. I had dated DH for two years and we'd never "slipped up" once. I felt no attraction to BJ, and in fact the idea freaked me out. I had always felt safe with him, but... if THAT could happen. I lost my shit for a while.

And then my therapist, said, "I just don't think you could handle a church disciplinary council at this point in your life." I didn't want to have sex, but I realized, I wanted OUT of the church. At that point, I seriously considered having my name removed from the records. If I wanted OUT so bad, that was the way to be honest with myself.

Around this same time, his wife asked him if he was still worthy to have a temple recommend. He said, "Yes. But I wish I had had an affair, then you would let me go." At that point, she told him she could forgive him for having an affair, but NEVER for leaving the church.

Within a few weeks, he'd moved out. A month later, he quit going to church.

I came to a place where I realized that I didn't want to be married. I didn't want to be in the church. Maybe because he had been violent, and although he had changed that, I couldn't get past it. Maybe because I couldn't IMAGINE becoming comfortable with sex. Maybe because I didn't want children, and he REALLY did. Maybe because I had never been single, and I wanted time to explore who I was. Maybe because of lots of things... I decided to get divorced.

By finally making that decision, DH and I actually became friends. We like each other now. We talk more openly than we ever have, and... we just can't be married.

After BJ moved out, THEN his wife decided she'd go to counseling. By that time, he was done. He had no interest in ever going back. However, he saw the power in trying to heal. He tried to talk to her about her emotional abuse. He tried to talk to her about how he felt like he had to do everything for everyone. He tried to talk to her about how he felt like a slave. He tried to talk to her about his doubts and questions concerning the church.

She went to the bishop. They actually went and met with him together. The bishop listened to BJ talk about emotional abuse, and the feelings he had about wanting to leave the marriage for twenty-something years. The bishop told BJ, he had sinned. He told him that if he just repented and returned to fully serving like he knew he should, then their marriage would be saved. And then the bishop turned to her, and told her that her marriage was in danger unless BJ stopped spending time with me.

BJ was both hurt and angry. What he heard was that it was fine that he was being abused, and he didn't want to give up our friendship. She had justification. She REALLY started blaming me. He was fine until he met me. He loved the church, until he met me. He's codependent and I'm controlling. He's abusive (by not doing EVERYTHING she asks... the word No is abusive to her. But its okay for her to say...) Sorry... I don't like the way she treats him.

He's continued to read about abusive relationships. She's followed the book very nicely. It's almost like she read how to be a really good abuser.

In November, he decided to move himself and his business to Nephi. To get away from her. (She was driving by his house several times a day. She would drop by unannounced. He felt like he HAD to get away from her, and the environment.) He also felt very sad at all that he was giving up to be true to himself... His therapist told him people would respect him if he was honest about his beliefs about the church. His kids and his other friends have not shown much respect. He wanted to get away from the constant reminder of what he could have if he just went back to lying about his feelings about the church, and could just "take" all of the abuse.

I work for him. We are close friends. I live in his basement. I pay rent out of the paycheck he writes me.

She's recently decided that I am faking my divorce, faking everything, so that I can get to him... I'm not sure what the benefit to me is to do that, but she believes it. She talked to her Stake President, and he discovered how much money the church has given me. He says he didn't do it as a Stake President, so it would be okay to share, and I am SO in the wrong, and she has a right to know...

I don't think he has a right to tell her anything... And I also think there are things she needs to know. BJ has tried to talk to her. I have offered to talk to her... back when I believed that she could and would change, I wanted to help. I have no desire to talk to her now, except sometimes I want to say, "Please. Stop being so abusive and manipulative. You keep emailing, texting, and opening your mouth to others, and you keep PROVING to me that you are a bitch. So, just shut the fuck up." I don't think that would be very helpful OR very effective, so... I probably won't try to talk to her any time soon.

My marriage is over. His marriage is over. And I have no regrets...
If I had done things differently, or made different choices, would he still be there? Maybe. Are there two sides to every story? Yes. And I only know what I know. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I still don't. I might regret the consequences, but I don't regret my motivation.

If that makes me evil, I guess I've decided I'd rather be evil.
(And I don't really believe that I am evil...)

Prayers for Bobby

I saw the move, Prayers for Bobby, and was so impressed by Mary Griffith's journey, I started reading the book that night.

The book is a compilation of journal entries from Bobby, a gay young man who committed suicide at age 20, and his mother's thoughts. She was a fundamentalist Christian who called her gay son to repentance daily. He wrote daily of his hatred for himself and who he was. He vacillated between pleading with God to change him and cursing God for leaving him alone. He stopped writing in his journal a week before he jumped off a freeway overpass. No one knows exactly what caused him to jump that day.

His mother, Mary, has become an activist for gay and lesbian youth, and her only mission is to tell children "Don't give up on love." I loved reading her journey to find herself.

She was a traditional 1950's wife and mother. Bobby's death turned her into an assertive, strong, activist. In the end of the book, she said, "I'm no longer afraid."

I cried through most of the book. I felt Bobby's self-hatred and sadness. I felt Mary's confusion, anger, and helplessness. Her journey introduced her to many suicidal youth, and each of their stories brought me great sadness.

I also felt anger at myself. I (like Mary) thought I was doing the right thing by pushing "traditional family values" on those around me. Reading this, I want to get more involved and help change attitudes of those around me.

Jim Swilley, Georgia Megachurch Pastor, Comes Out To Congregation After Gay Teen Suicides

In my way of thinking, being who we really are, and honest about ourselves is the most important thing we can do in this life. I really appreciated this. I really wanted to post the article to facebook, but I was scared.

Here I want SO BAD to be authentic. To be real. To be honest. I LOVED listening to this interview. I loved what he said, and I am still too scared to share it.

BJ asked why I wanted to share it. What was I trying to say?
I was trying to say a few things:
First, Be honest with who you are. That is all we can be.
Second, I too have seen the Bible be used as a weapon against people. As a tool for manipulation.
Third, I don't support my own church's stance on same-sex relations. I want people to know that I don't support them. And my own sexuality is confusing to me. At this point, I have come to the conclusion that I am asexual. That doesn't mean I don't need intimacy and love, I just feel more comfortable if intimacy and love doesn't include sex. (Not just more comfortable. I don't completely lose my mind if intimacy and love don't include sex...)

All those things that I want to say by posting an article... I'm not ready to say to the facebook world...
So I'll say them here.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost

I really AM still me.

Yesterday, I spent a long time reading old journals. I picked up the "real" ones first.
They were the ones I tried to keep really positive. They were the ones that I was okay with other people reading. Sharing "spiritual" experiences and my testimony, but they weren't my real miracles or my real thoughts.

I spent about thirty minutes reading those, and then I just felt yucky.
I curled up in a ball and cried and felt really bleh.

I promised BJ I wouldn't read any more.
Last night, I broke the promise. I have a journal that was just a bunch of note paper. One day I started writing. I remember being so caught up in lies, that I just wanted a place I could be honest. There are no dates on this journal. No ending to the entries. I just wrote. I thought it was a lot of eating disorder stuff. That was there, but actually there was less of that than in my real journal.

What was there was Jen. Her thoughts. Her feelings. The things she felt about her family, God, church, life. Her guilt. Her sadness. Her anger. And she did a really good job of expressing herself. The journal that I thought was going to be really bad and hard to read wasn't. It was refreshing and felt good to me.

I am thinking about burning the others.
Report cards, daily schedules, presents, and the things I thought I was supposed to think make me a little sick to my stomach.

It turns out I was spunky and opinionated even back then. Everyone tried so hard to domesticate me and make me what they wanted, but it didn't work back then, and it probably never will. This is my favorite entry. I think I was about sixteen or seventeen, but I'm not sure.

"Who knows? Maybe someday I will look back on all this and laugh, but right now I really don't think it will happen.

Why do people say that anyway?

I don't see how stuff that isn't funny now could become hilarious enough for me to laugh about it in fifteen years. Oh well..."

Its been about fifteen years since I wrote it. And the things that made me sad back then, STILL make me sad today. The things that made me angry back then, make me even more angry now.

So, why DO people say that?

let the rumors begin

I understand what the church says about homosexuality. I understand what the bible calls it. I understand that it is supposed to be evil according to God.

What I don't understand is how the government should have any say whatsoever.
What I don't understand is why the church thinks they have any right to define everyone else's rights.
What I don't understand is how if two people can get this whole love/sex/coupleness worked out, why the hell would anyone want to get in the way???
What I don't understand is why anyone would want to get married if they don't have to.

I don't think this decision will affect me... at all... it won't affect all of the people who believe they are losing their rights. It will only affect the people who have wanted to get married (WHY??) and give them a chance to do so. The people who have had the right to get married since marriage existed will still have all the rights...

All I know is if two people get it figured out, I WANT them to have every opportunity. I don't care who they are. I don't care how they got there. I don't care if it was biological, or caused by abuse, or a choice... If they can learn to love and be loved in return, I am very happy for them.

I know what I'm supposed to think, and still... I am glad.

A little nervous

So, last week, I made this blog public... However, I purposely made it so family or friends couldn't find it by searching me.

My sister asked if she could read it. Since I actually started this whole thing as a way to share myself a little more, and I REALLY want my family to know me... I said yes.

I am tempted to go and delete a bunch of entries. I am tempted to change it so she only sees the fun, happy, smiling posts... but that would defeat the purpose.

So, here goes nothing.
Here's to letting people into my life. Here's to seeing if I am lovable as I am. Here's to a lot of worries and a lot of fears that probably have no basis in reality.

...here's to "feeling the fear and doing it anyway..."

Lesson learned... again...

I wanted to go riding on Saturday. Generally, I try to reserve Saturdays for Dann... so, I (very tentatively) asked him what he thought.

"That sounds fine to me. I am up for you going riding any time!I love how happy you get when you go and how much it helps you... so anytime... and I mean that!"

Thank you. Are you sure? I don't want you to feel upset, or unloved, or forgotten, or lonely, or... You are important to me, and I want you to feel that. I'm not home a lot, and when I am...

"No worries. I know all of that, and when you get home, you always make me feel special. I will let you know when I don't like it...remember I don't have that little voice in my head stopping me from sharing??"

Oh yeah... Just because I have a hard time asking for what I need, and I wait until I am about ready to explode before I say anything... Just because I am hurting and I keep it to myself... Just because I have a filter in my head that tells me I shouldn't say ANYTHING out loud... That doesn't mean other people do.

The single most important thing

Visiting Katie. She went to snack. I sat on the couch on the unit. There was a dad of another patient there. We talked, he asked if I came to visit a lot (because all of the care techs and staff seemed to be so friendly with me). I told him I tried to come every week, but the real reason they knew me was because I was a patient there before.

He asked how I was doing. I told him it was still really hard sometimes, and I was doing pretty good. He then asked what was the most important thing I got from CFC.

The MOST important? The friends. The people I met. The amazing women who learned everything about me, and still loved me. The strong women that shared their secrets and their lives with me. Feeling completely accepted for the first time in my entire life. Knowing that I didn't hold anything back, even when it was impossibly hard to tell them about myself. And they loved me.

But really, there is so much that I am grateful for. All of the different therapies were helpful. Every single group, every single day, there was something amazing that I learned about myself or the world around me. I am grateful for every little part.

He then asked how I felt about Intuitive Eating. I laughed and told him it was life-changing. I didn't go into details about my eating disorder before, but I did tell him that I never thought I could trust myself to make my own food choices. It feels SO GOOD to know that I can.

It was strange sitting there and answering his questions. Probably because I was sitting on THAT couch in THAT place, I was completely open. I answered all of his questions without thinking through my answers... which might be really good, or might not be. It felt good to be completely open. I am not that way very often. It is a little strange that the most important thing in treatment, is the thing that is still the hardest for me in the "real world".

hmmmm...

Always Looking Up - Hiding

In 2006, Michael J. Fox did campaign ads for several pro-stem cell research candidates. Rush Limbaugh came back saying that he faked his symptoms. Mike went through a struggle where he considered faking his symptoms to prove that he wasn't faking his symptoms. He came to the conclusion that it wouldn't help anything and he didn't do it. I understand the struggle.

I remember Ginger making the comment, "If she is in so much pain, how can she be laughing?"

I didn't understand what she meant by that. Am I supposed to walk around looking like I'm in pain all the time? If I only laugh when I am not in pain, I am afraid I will never laugh again! Laughing and smiling make things bearable, but they don't take away from the fact that it hurts. It sucks!

In the book, Always Looking Up, he talks about the image of people with disabilities. He is specifically talking about people with physical disabilities, but I believe it is the same for those of us with other disabilities. He asked the question, "Why is this segment of the populations responsible not only for how they feel, but how YOU feel about how they feel?"

And there it is. The reason I have felt I was selfish all my life. I am responsible for my feelings, and for the way others feel about my feelings.

He then goes on to quote an article from Times, an amputee was approached by a mother at a neighborhood pool who told the woman to put her prosthetic leg back on because it was "upsetting my child."

"The only explanation, if not excuse, for the thoughtlessness of this mother is fear. Unwilling or unable to explain disabilities to her daughter, she reacts to Ms. Haddad as though she were the transgressor. Yet it seems ridiculous
to imagine a mother approaching an able-bodied woman at a pool and asked her to drape a towel over one of her legs because it's upsetting her amputee daughter."
(p,144)

I have encountered that fear a few times in my life. I will encounter it a lot more, because I won't be silent like I have been. I won't hide the things I have been through, or the way it effects my life. There will be many people who are afraid, and I hope that I will be compassionate enough to help them understand... rather than telling them my latest favorite line,

"If you are going to heaven, I'd rather go to hell..."

In the book, he used Rush Limbaugh's insensitive remarks as a push.

"Let's face it, the whole episode, unpleasant though it may have been, was a gift in the same way that I have described Parkinson's as a gift. You suffer the blow, but you capitalize on the opportunity left in its wake.
The notion of hiding--this is what struck a nerve. Feeling the need to hide symptoms is so key to what patients of all kinds of conditions have to face. We have to hide--don't let anybody else see, don't let them think you're drunk, don't let them think you're incapable, don't let them think you're unstable, your unsteady, you're flawed, you're devalued. Mask it. Hide it. Cover it up..."
(p. 150)

Why should I hide what I have been through? What I am going through? Why should I pretend that everything is okay, when it is most certainly NOT? Why should I protect people who have been protected for 47 years? Or 34 years? Or 99 years?

I would rather live in a world where we are real... about the good and the bad and everything in between. I would rather live in a world where it is okay to hurt and it is okay to feel joy, and its even okay to feel both at the same time. I can't hide anymore... and I still feel like I should apologize for that.

I want to be free to be me... that means laughing when I want to. That means crying when I need to. That means asking for help, or doing it on my own, following others, or finding my own way.

Unselfish - my new definition

Unselfish - putting what the Lord wants for us ahead of what we want for us, or what others want for us...

All my life, I have felt like I was selfish, because I wanted or needed anything. Tonight, as I was talking to Bishop Campbell, my mind was spinning with all kinds of false beliefs and thoughts that were just wrong.

I was panicking and trying to calm myself down. That didn't work, so I called BJ. I started to tell him what was bothering me, but then instead this new definition of unselfish came to my mind. I knew it was pure truth. It was a definition I could work with, because all of these years I have believed I was selfish if I ate, slept, wanted to be loved, stood up for myself, talked about me, etc.

With this new definition, all of those things actually fit into what the Lord wants for me, thus I was unselfish.

I believe I found a new truth that I can live by. And the truth will set me free. It IS setting me free.

ED thoughts and Honesty

My ED thoughts (and behaviors) have been out of control for a month now. I kept promising myself I would do better, but then when it came down to it... I wouldn't. I was really frustrated with myself. Mostly, I was frustrated with how completely OFF my thinking was.

I was angry at BJ. I kept telling myself I had no right to be angry at him. THAT was false. It doesn't matter if I have a right or not... I was angry, and it is okay to feel angry...

I was afraid of hurting his feelings, or making him angry, or making him feel worse than he already did, or... a million reasons why I couldn't tell him I was mad at him.

Finally, yesterday, I told him that I was angry. I told him why. I didn't expect him to change anything. I just told him because I couldn't hold it in any longer.

Almost immediately, my ED thoughts calmed down. I won't say they were gone completely, but it was like everything that was completely off-kilter in my brain straightened out enough that I could think things through.

It was as if I had been punishing myself to keep myself quiet. I had been trying to tell him how angry I was with my behavior, and once I said that with my words, I didn't need to say it with my eating disorder anymore... and I have been okay ever since. (Not great... I still have things I need to work on, but much better.)

The moral of this story is - If I am honest with myself and others about what I am feeling, thinking and experiencing, then the eating disorder will not be able to hurt me or control me. When I lie, hide, or keep secrets, ED will take control.

Unfortunately, I was unaware of the reason ED was so huge until I started talking. That makes it difficult for me to figure out. Fortunately, it all worked out just fine. I had a few weeks of struggling, and now I am getting back on track.

I'm so random...

I am trying to figure out boundaries. I am trying to figure out what is okay to say, and what is not. In the past, I never let myself WANT anything. And I would NEVER share what I did want with anyone else. I felt like I was hurting someone if I got what I want. It has always felt like it is either me or them, and I would rather let them have what they want... Only, really, I HATE THAT!

I think it has to be okay for me to share what I want, to share my emotions, to hope for things, and to ask for what I want from others. I believe it is less manipulate to be direct, but then if someone feels manipulated because I told them what I wanted...

Today I asked, and was told "no," and it was actually a relief.
He just taught me that I could be honest about my wants. He just taught me that I could be assertive and ask to get my needs met. He just taught me that I could take care of myself through his example. He just taught me that although being assertive may not get me everything I want, it will feel better than NOT asking. He just showed me he could take care of himself. He just showed me that he would be honest with me, even when it was really hard. He just taught me what REAL love is like.

Love is generous and kind. Love is not self-sacrifice. Love brings hope. Love does not make us feel trapped. Love makes us better people. Love is charity: pure, honest, and simple. Christ is full of charity - He does not give us everything we want, or everything we ask for. I can't know what is best for everyone else, but I have to trust that if I take care of myself and do what I feel is right, He will take care of everyone and everything else.

Its funny, I have told others that if their needs are not being met, they need to ask for help. I have also told people that they have the right to say no to any request, at any time, and for any reason. I just saw firsthand what that looks like, how it feels, and it actually works. I don't know how he's doing. I know if he's anything like me, he probably feels pretty guilty. I hope not... I hope he understands how AWESOME this is.

Its hard to explain all of the things I just learned from being told no.