I really appreciate that he asks

BJ and I have lived in the same house for a while. We are "in a relationship". (It's official. It's on Facebook.) In my mind, being in a relationship was difficult to get to for many reasons, but one BIG reason was the loss of myself.

Basically, deep down I hold the belief that I have no right to my body, my wants, my desires, my possessions, because I have to give them up and sacrifice for my significant other.

Of course BJ doesn't want that for me, and since he generally holds the same belief for himself (HE has to sacrifice everything in order to make his significant other happy, or else he isn't a good man.) We're pretty funny together.

Today, we were both at work. I had driven my car. He had to go home to meet the farrier. (Horses are getting new shoes... as we speak!) I decided to stay at work and get some things done. I assumed he'd take my car, but as he was leaving, he asked if it was okay.

I felt confused... OF COURSE it is okay. How else was he going to get home?

But the truth is, I'm really glad he asks. I'm really glad he doesn't assume he has a right to my stuff. I can't picture myself ever saying no to him. (He says I should test this out sometime, but I can't see it happening any time soon. Not even as a test to see how he handles me telling him he can't use something of mine, but... anyway...)

Even if I still don't believe I have a right to tell him "no", I appreciate that he acts as if it might be an option.

Going Red

In 2008, my personal world was a bit... rocky.
My religious world was full of questions. Concerns. Things that didn't make sense, and things that I was trying to force myself to believe that was damn near killing me.
Then the church I belonged to get very involved in a political campaign. Letters were read over the pulpit. Ward members were asked to call everyone they knew in California. Money was asked for. (Some might say the church demanded money from its members.) There were signs all over the place, even in Utah. I had just joined Facebook. (Well... not just joined it, but just started using it as a way to keep in touch with people.) My newsfeed (or whatever they called it back then), was FULL of YES! on Prop 8 statuses, pictures, quotes, and pleas.

I hated ALL of it. It made me sad, angry, and confused.
It felt wrong to be fighting against the rights of the minority. It felt like the opposite of what we should be doing, but I also "knew" it was the right thing. The conflict in my head was huge.

I had not done any research before that. I had accepted all the things the church leaders had said without question. I figured they were smart, they spoke for God, and I didn't need to know... but that feeling in my gut... THIS IS WRONG! was so loud... I started researching. I started listening. I felt compassion, and I learned things that I'd been taught at church were inaccurate. False. Religious teachings that pretended to be based in science or knowledge but weren't. They were based in old ideas that have since been proven wrong.

Prop 8 passed. I didn't have time or energy to care much about it anymore.
Then it was overturned. I quietly felt glad.

As I've healed, I've had more time to invest in learning, research, and questioning. I've also become stronger and I am much more willing to be ME and talk about MY thoughts and opinions... instead of just going along with the majority. I love myself enough to be honest now. That didn't used to be the case.

Today, my Facebook is FULL of red. Seeing all of that, I feel excited: Excited for the changes in me. I have come a LONG way. Excited for the changes happening in the country around me. Excited and hopeful that as the laws change, hopefully, the understanding and compassion will come too. As it becomes against the law to discriminate, eventually, I hope, there will be less discrimination. Which means less suicide, less bullying, less fear, less shame, and more people able to just live and be happy.

Friendship after Divorce

I started this entry a long time ago, but never finished it. I've written and rewritten it and added things and taken away things... just trying to say what I really want to say, but I'm not even sure what I want to say... so... how do I say what I want to if I don't know what it is...

I don't know if it's complete or good.., but I've decided to share it today.

Once upon a time, I spent an awesome weekend camping, fishing, and riding in the mountains. BJ and I had this trip planned for a LONG time. We wanted to pack our gear, ride in to Kidney Lake, spend a few days fishing, and ride out.

(For those who don't know: Once upon a time, Dann and I were married. Now we're not. We are friends. Being friends was important to me, and it was important to him.)


I didn't want to tell Dann about the trip. I was afraid it would make him sad or jealous. I didn't want him to feel angry or freaked out. (I am very aware of ex-spouses that act crazy when they hear things they don't like.) We were all at my parents' house for dinner. I wanted to tell my dad all about the trip - especially since it was his idea. (He went to Kidney Lake and told BJ and I we needed to go.)

So, I talked about it. I ignored the voice in my head telling me that I wasn't allowed to talk about the things that make me happy... But the voice that said I was hurting Dann wouldn't shut up. So... I finally just said, "Does it bother you that I went on this trip? Or that I talk about it?"

"No! Why would it bother me? What kind of friend would I be if I didn't want to hear about the things that make you happy? What kind of a friend would I be if I got jealous when you were doing something you love? I want you to be happy. I want you to do things you love. And I want to hear about it all! Does it make you jealous when I talk about my dates and/or other girls?"

That was a good question. The answer is NO. I feel really happy for him when he's happy. I feel really happy for him when he's doing things he loves. What kind of a friend would tell him that he can't talk about his dates? That's a huge part of his life.

I want us to be friends. Real friends. So, I tell him about the stuff that I care about. I don't protect him from ME, and I don't hide me, and I don't expect him to pretend or hide either. We're FRIENDS.

All of this has gotten me thinking: We are definitely not common, so how are we doing it?
 
I had people tell me it wasn't possible.
"Once you break up with a person, it should just be over." And I agree, if that's what  any ONE of the people want, that is exactly how it should be... but what if both people want a friendship?
 

A relationship only works if both people have a desire to be in the relationship. It would have been completely acceptable if either one of us had said, "I don't want to continue a relationship with you." THAT is different from the way a lot of people think. For instance, Person A wants to be friends, so they try to force Person B to be their friend. That isn't a friendship. I don't know what that is... other than messed up.) If, in the future, one of us needed to change the relationship again, we would. A relationship only works when it works for both people.

I also think we had to let go of our past relationship. It would be impossible to be "present-friends", if either one of us was still stuck in " past-marriage". We have a history, but we let that be history. There is no talk of what might have been, or blame for the marriage ending, or even questions as to why it didn't work out. There is no trying to get back together - there is only our present friendship.


I had to make a lot of changes in myself. It was a big adjustment for people around me... including for Dann. He was used to me being different... more self-sacrificing... he was a huge support in my journey. Instead of trying to get me to go back to being self-sacrificing, he helped me grow the way I needed to grow...

While we were married, Dann did things that really hurt me. He apologized for those things, and he also understood that his apology didn't make everything all better. There was a lot of pain and anger that I had to go through, and he didn't expect me to rush it on his account. He didn't expect me to do anything for him... He didn't even expect me to be his friend unless I wanted to. Really... He had no expectations of me or of our relationship. By not trying to force anything, by letting go of what he thought it should be, it's unfolded naturally into the relationship we have now.


When I talk to him about anything, he doesn't use invalidating statements and comments. (And if he did, I could tell him. We could talk about it without him freaking out.)

He told me to trust myself.

"I trust you. Now, YOU trust you. If you don't want to talk to me, don't want to see me, or don't want anything to do with me: It doesn't matter. Trust yourself. If you fake it because you think that's what you're supposed to do, or because you think that is what I want, you will NEVER recover... But if you learn to trust you in EVERYTHING, healing will happen." (taken from an online chat)

He told me not to answer the phone when he (or anyone) called unless I WANTED to talk to him (or them).  For nine years, I thought it was my responsibility to take care of his needs: to put him ahead of myself. It was hard to change that belief. It has taken me a long time to get to a place where I am okay having needs, wants, and desires...  He understood that, and supported me. I'd like to say this isn't still hard for me. It is. It's been years, and I still have to fight against the feeling that I have to take care of him.

Knowing the way I work, how awful would our relationship be if he wanted me to fix things for him? How awful would it be for me, if he wanted me to continue taking care of him? If he thought that was what I was supposed to do? Or if he blamed me for not doing more to "save" our marriage? I'd have to fight against the false beliefs in my head AND in his head. I don't think I was (or am) strong enough that I could do that. That relationship would be deadly toxic for me.

He respects me when I tell him no.
I'm still working on telling people (and specifically him) "no". I have had to learn to stand up for myself. When I tell him "no" for any reason, he actually thanks me for taking care of myself, instead of pushing to get his way. That, more than anything, makes it possible for me to be around him. To talk to him. To count him as one of my friends. I have been way too much of a people-pleaser to have people in my life who expect me to please them... in any way...

He doesn't act like he knows what I should be doing, or what my path looks like.
Again, he trusts ME to find my own way, and he is a support as I walk my path. He doesn't give me advice or tell me how to live my life. 

He celebrates when I am happy. 
When I moved, and I was SO excited, he was excited for me. He helped me move - into the house I live in with BJ. Dann is grateful that I found BJ, because I am grateful. He wants to hear about our camping trips, our horseback rides, our fishing trips. He also gets angry when he feels BJ or I aren't being treated right.

"When you love someone, you are happy when they are happy. If you feel sad or hurt when another person is happy, that isn't love, that's selfishness." (taken from a text.)

Can you imagine how healing it is to have him say that to me? Can you imagine how wonderful it is to have a friend that really does care about MY happiness?


I feel lucky. I know how beautifully odd it is. It is rather perfect that we've both come to this place. It's rather perfect that we both wanted a friendship, and we defined friendship in the same way. Our separation and our journey was not short and was not easy, but considering what so many people go through, we're very lucky.

Why was I sobbing? (A reaction to the missionary age change.)

Saturday's announcement that girls can now go on missions at age 19 shouldn't have affected me. I'm WAY older than 19. I've left the church. There really isn't anyone in my life that that announcement really effects. (A few cousins... but that's it...)

So, why did I find myself sobbing uncontrollably when I went to bed Saturday night?
I couldn't figure it out until I read Joanna Brooks's blog.

"How do you let go of anger and hurt from growing up in a culture and institution that taught things about the role of women and about the timing and urgency of marriage that shaped pivotal decisions in your life? I’m grateful things will be better (at least in this respect) from now on, but I can’t help but grieve for what might have been."

That's it. I got married at 19 years old. I didn't get married because I had dreamed of being a wife and a mom my whole life... I hadn't. (At 14, I decided I didn't want to get married and I had no desire to have children.) I didn't get married because I couldn't picture my life without Larry. I didn't get married because I was madly in love...

I got married because I wanted to be "good". I got married because I wanted to move forward and progress in my life, and marriage was how a woman did that. I got married because I wanted to show my family that all of their prayers and efforts to keep me alive were worth it. I got married because I wanted to be an adult, and that is how a woman becomes an adult... She turns her life over to a man.

Larry liked me. Larry wanted me. I didn't think many men would... so I counted my blessings that someone DID want me, and I put the ring on my finger. (A ring I didn't want, by the way. I didn't like big stones, and I wanted a simple band... but HIS wife had to have a big diamond.)

He treated me like shit. He was abusive and controlling and my life with him was hell. It took me ten years to even BEGIN dealing with all of the things he did. I feel very lucky to have survived that marriage... and it's only been fairly recently that I have stopped having nightmares and flashbacks and... that all could have been avoided if I had had some other option.

I have already said that I wasn't real comfortable with trying to convert other people... but if a mission would have been an option, I am pretty sure I would have taken it. I could have avoided two years of being raped and ridiculed. I could have avoided the years and years of therapy. I could have avoided all of the beliefs I formed about myself, my body, relationships... My life could have been so different.

If I had gone on a mission, and not gone through the hell I went through with Larry, maybe I'd still be in the church... And while I am very happy now that I have left... it would have been a lot of easier if I had just been happy where I was born.

(I remember talking to a "super-believing" Mormon woman. My question was, "If I could prove to you that the church isn't what it claimed to be, would you want to hear my proof?"

She said, "No. I'm happy with my life, and I don't want to know."

I felt jealous... I WISH I could have said that, but I didn't have the option... I had to search out and question and eventually leave in order to save my life. I wish I could have been happy..)

So... while the decision has no effect on me or my life... I feel abandoned once again...Or at least I felt abandoned when I heard about the change in policy. I cried, and I cussed a bit.

Today, I am back to feeling grateful for my life. I definitely wouldn't choose the hell I went through, but the chances are good I would not be who I am today without all of those experiences.. I would not have the life I have today, and I really like my life.

Maybe I'm done being freaked out by weddings

I'm going to a wedding on Friday.
And strangely, I'm excited. For a long time, I have believed that no one should get married. Marriage is an archaic institution. At best, it is a legal agreement. At worst, it is codependent, abusive, and unhealthy. Weddings have freaked me out for a very long time. In my mind, they symbolized the beginning of a horrible hell, but something has changed in the last couple of months... And I blame the bride-to-be.

When I met her, she was going through an awful divorce. She wanted out - He didn't want to let her. All divorce is hell... but in my experience, the hell part was the back and forth before the divorce. In her experience, the hell was the years long legal battle they went through after she had filed for divorce.

I watched her go through having her kids shun her, because they were angry at the choices she was making (combined with the stories he was telling). I watched her decide that she couldn't wait for them to decide to want to be in her life. She loves them and she wants them around, but she's going to live her life and let them live theirs. It both saddened and inspired me. My family didn't make me choose between doing what was best for me and making them happy. Her family did. She chose to do what was best for herself. In my mind, that was the much harder choice.

She started talking about a friend she'd met online. Then she brought him over for dinner. I liked him from the first moment I met him. (He reminds me of my old therapist: easy-going teddy bear, with a tough streak. On several occasions, I have almost called him Paul (therapist's name) instead of by his name.) Although weeks went by between times we saw each other, he remembered what we'd talked about and we just picked up the conversation where we left off. And it was obvious to me that he liked her.

I remember her saying once, "I just want to fall in love. I want to know what it's like to love someone instead of needing someone. I want to know what it feels like to want to be with someone and have them want to be with me."  Watching them together, I felt like she was on the path to find what she wanted. That made me happy.

Then they got engaged. Whenever anyone has gotten engaged recently, I have wanted to go off on them about why they shouldn't. I never shared my thoughts, but it was very loud inside my head. This time, I didn't even feel the urge to go off on why I didn't believe in marriage. Instead, I just felt happy for her.

When I told BJ about my internal reaction, he asked if that meant I wanted to get married someday. HELL NO. I don't.
What does it mean? It means I have finally gotten comfortable enough in my own decision, that I don't need to tell other people what to do. I don't need to tell people why MY choice is the better choice. I can just live my life; make my choices; and let them live their lives and make their choices.

So, maybe I can't blame her for my change in perspective. Maybe, the more comfortable we (meaning people) are with our own choices, the less we need to control others.

What if telling other people what to do is just a way to help us make peace with our own choices?
I feel like I just discovered something important, but it makes my brain hurt. At moments like this, I love insights from others. Your thoughts?

...but my wife would never let me.

I went to a fly-fishing banquet tonight. I sat at a table of men (except BJ) I had never met until last night. There was an auction. At some point during the night, I heard every single one  of them (except BJ) say, "I would LOVE to buy that, but my wife would never let me..."

One was a painting... His wife would never let him hang it in the house that they share. He thought about putting it in his office, because at least he had some place that was his...

It made me sad.
Sad for the men that can't buy or have a painting that they like, because their wife doesn't. Sad for the women that don't even know what their husbands like, because their own likes are so important. Sad, because the way the men talked it was like they were getting a break from prison by being at this banquet without their wives there... Which sucks for ALL of them.

I have no more thoughts on the subject. Just felt sad, and felt like writing about it.

On a different note...
I won a hat and a sweatshirt. Not as cool as the guided trip, but cool enough.

"The more you hold to something you've already lost the more you fear losing it."

I've been busy. So much stuff. I wanted to come back and write more on my last post, but life moved on, and I have nothing else to say about it... So, here's just a quick update:


Sportsman's Expo: I met Molly, an award winning fly fisher(wo)man. She invited me to a workshop where I met other women who loved fly fishing. She taught me how to cast better. That was awesome. Mostly it just felt so healing to meet other women that like the stuff I like. I felt less alone in the world.

I also won a guided fly-fishing trip to a private resort a few hours away from me. I've never won anything before, and I'm excited to go on a guided trip. MY guide. Someone who has the job to teach me and help me enjoy the trip. It feels overwhelming. Cool. And overwhelming.

$150,000 Steinway: I played it. I might need one. Justin promised he'd buy me one if he ever became a millionaire. I'm looking forward to that.

A wedding: I went to my cousin's wedding reception, and I didn't even scream or pull my own hair out. I think I'm making progress... I still hate weddings though. A lot. Didn't realize until just now that ever since going to the wedding, I've had a resurgence of body memory pain and nightmares... at least I know WHY it's been more intense the past few days, which makes me feel a little better that it will pass.

Next to Normal: Justin and I went to a performance of the musical Next to Normal. Ummm... Intense. It's all about a woman with a mental illness, and her and her family trying to cope and make sense of their world, and create a life that is "next to normal".

I wanted to find a good video to post, but I couldn't decide on a favorite song so, just check out the whole thing... Never mind. I changed my mind. Check it all out, but start with this song:

(I loved this one, because she described exactly how I felt... and then the husband was trying to help, and he didn't even know that he was making it worse... and then the "son" shows up, and he holds the keys to healing her. He is her own visions, but without facing him, she will never get better. And incidentally, neither will her husband.)

And then maybe this one:

(I liked this one because that's what a broken brain feels like. A vision that shows up that both hurts and heals. "If you try to deny me, I'll never die. I'm alive." That's what happens if you don't face your demons... they get bigger and louder and they develop a life of their own.

I went through a lot of emotions. They did a good job portraying intense emotions, loneliness, craziness, codependency, pain, and grief. I felt angry at the husband. I felt angry at her therapist. I just wanted to yell at them, "Don't you understand, you're trying to help, but you're making it worse!" I felt sadness for the daughter and the husband. I laughed at the craziness of trying to find medications and other treatments to make emotions and painful memories disappear. I felt helpless for everyone involved, because no one knows what to do. I felt hopeful for the characters in the play, and for the whole world. Having musicals like this one, showing the pain and taking away the secrecy that shrouds mental illness is the only way to "cure" the illness. EVERYONE is affected by our society's inability to cope with grief and pain.

My favorite line was:

"The more you hold to something you've already lost the more you fear losing it."

I've been thinking on this line ever since:

The more you hold on to something you've already lost, the more you fear losing it, so you hold on even tighter. The fear and the holding on is crippling... but you don't see that it is the fear that is crippling you... And then, one day, you finally realize, you're only holding on to an illusion, so you let go, and you feel free.

I've heard people say, "If you love someone, let them go," but really that's just an illusion. The truth is: loving someone doesn't make them belong to you. And if they were never yours, how can you let them go?

Elizabeth Gilbert: Thoughts on creativity... and marriage.

A friend shared this with me, and I love it.



As a side note, I never read Eat, Pray, Love, but I did read Committed (the follow-up to her freakishly successful book), and I loved it. I read it when I was first trying to define relationships and love... She gave me a ton to think about. She thought outside of the box I was raised in, which helped me to really decide what I thought and what I felt.

I find myself repeating ideas from her book often.

"There is hardly a more gracious gift that we can offer somebody than to accept them fully, to love them."

The following is a quote at the end of the chapter where she talks about Marriage and Expectations. She was interviewing the Hmong women. She asked them a ton of questions about their husbands and marriage, and they didn't understand her questions. One woman finally told her that there was no such thing as a "good husband" or a "bad husband"... There were just husbands and wives and marriages. Everything just is.

"We Americans often say that marriage is 'hard work.' I'm not sure the Hmong would understand this notion. Life is hard work, of course and WORK is very hard work - I'm quite certain they would agree with those statements - but how does marriage become hard work? Here's how: Marriage becomes hard work once you have poured the entirety of your life's expectations for happiness into the hands of one mere person. Keeping that going is hard work....
This is exactly what I myself have expected in the past from love and this is what I was now preparing to expect all over again with Felipe - that we should somehow be answerable for every aspect of each others' joy and happiness. That our very job description as spouses was to be each others' everything.
So I had always assumed, anyhow.
And so I might have gone on blithely assuming, except that my encounter with the Hmong had knocked me off course in one critical regard: For the first time in my life, it occurred to me that perhaps I was asking too much of love. Or, at least, perhaps I was asking too much of marriage. Perhaps I was loading a far heavier cargo of expectation onto the creaky old boat of matrimony than that strange vessel had ever been built to accommodate in the first place."

This second quote is a BIG one for me. WHY is marriage (and love and relationships) "hard work"?
Because we have so many expectations of what the other person should be. Because we have so many expectations of how the relationship should look. Because we want that other person to be everything for us, so we put our happiness in their hands, and they put it their happiness in ours... It's a lot of work to be responsible for someone else's happiness.

It isn't nearly as hard to be responsible for my happiness... To take care of myself... and then to just enjoy time spent with those I love. No expectations. (I always need to say the following though, because sometimes when I start telling myself not to have expectations, I think that means take whatever shit the other person dishes out... But that's not what I'm saying... There is always the ability to redefine and change the relationship, and even leave it behind if it is not a healthy place to be.)

I don't think relationships are hard work... unless the hard work is that everyday I seek to know and love myself... to learn all that I can about me... that's hard. That sucks sometimes, but it is so much easier than the "hard" I experienced in relationships in the past... Being abused and hurt and trying to control others, which in turn hurt them... THAT was hard. THAT hurt.

This wasn't exactly where I was planning on going with this post... I just really liked watching the video of Liz Gilbert, and that got me thinking about the book, and I wanted to share what I'd learned from it... I think it's way cool that I read the book years ago, and many of the thoughts she expressed have now become a part of me. That is the awesomeness of books!

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

Letting it all go. Right into the trash.

When I moved out of Dann's house, I took almost nothing with me.
It was too hard for me to go through stuff and figure out what to take with me, what to throw away, so I just left everything. A few weeks ago, he brought some of my boxes to me.

Mostly, they were clothes and shoes. Things that no longer fit me, either size-wise or personality-wise. They were easy: Throw them in a box and take them to DI.

my sis and I

There was one box that was all my old journals and pictures: Things I boxed up and hid away, because I didn't know what to do with them. Should I throw the pictures of Larry out? Keep them? Burn them? I LOOK happy, and that bothers me... I also have all the love notes I wrote him, and he wrote me. They confuse me.

(Confusion: I obviously THOUGHT I loved him. I obviously THOUGHT I was happy. So, why the hell do I still have nightmares about him sometimes? And I'm VERY aware that what I thought was loving and normal was NOT. But reading my own words in my own handwriting professing that I love him... It's confusing.)



I just couldn't bring myself to throw them out. Or even look at them. Until today.

Grandpa Dennis

I'm not sure what got into me. I pulled out every picture. Most of them were from our wedding day. I kept the pictures of my friends and cousins. I cried when I saw the pictures of "Grandpa Dennis", my next door neighbor and special friend all growing up. He passed away not too long after that picture was taken. I wanted to keep that one. My wedding day was HELL, but in those pictures I also saw myself surrounded by people who loved me. They were there to support me. I want to remember that. I want to remember my grandma making my dress, and my other grandma doing the wedding cake. I want to remember having my aunts and sister do my hair and makeup. I want to remember what my brothers looked like in tuxes. (although, I'll be honest, I didn't remember until I looked at the pictures.) I want to remember how wishy-washy I was picking out colors and dresses. I just didn't care, but there were a lot of people that made it beautiful. (Sorry to my bridesmaids. I wouldn't put you in those dresses again.) I want to remember so many of the people I loved coming together to celebrate. Even if the celebration (for me) ended as soon as we left the reception. Jerk.

My grandma made my dress. She's kind of amazing.

I threw away the pictures of Larry and I. I threw away the pictures of his parents, his sister, his friends, his cousins. I threw away the pictures that I didn't want to remember. I threw away the pictures we took of our honeymoon. Seeing those were the hardest. Why is that girl smiling? Why does she have her arm around him? Why didn't she punch him in his big nose and leave?


And now, I just want to cry. Cry for the nineteen year old girl who didn't know what was going to happen to her next, cry for the girl that thought the way he treated her was good, and kind, and normal...



Just cry. And maybe get a little angry.
(Possible angry posts to follow.)

No such thing as worthy

A few weeks ago, I was struggling. I talked to my amazing friend, Jen. We went through some visualization, and the picture that kept looming before me was the temple. I was frustrated. I kept trying to figure out why I would feel like I needed that in my life, but I also hate it. I was miserable there. I made life miserable for everyone else whenever I had to go there. (And by "had to" I mean I forced myself to go.)

With her help, I found the word, "worthy". The temples means I am worthy. I am worth it.

When I was 17, and only barely alive, my mom had a dream. She saw me in the temple in a wedding dress, and she knew everything was going to be okay. When I was 19, and getting married in the temple, she reminded me of her dream. She was so happy that I had finally "made it".

Before I got married, I knew that's what people around me felt. I KNEW that if I just made it to the temple, all of their heartache, their money, their time, their prayers would be worth it. *I* would be worth it.

Jen said something perfect: "It sounds to me like all of those old beliefs are DESPERATE for you to let go of them, so why are you still holding on so tightly?"

Well, fuck. I don't know.
Because I wanted to be worth it. I wanted to be loved. Being in a place I love. In the relationships I love. Feeling happy and fulfilled and GOOD, those things just aren't "good enough" if I'm not worthy.

Since that conversation, and even IN that conversation, I let go of that old belief. I am not worthy, because I go to the temple. I am worthy, because I am me. I am not worthy because I am in a marriage, or because my life looks like it "should" to anyone else... I am good. No because needed.

Back in my own truth, in the reality that there is no such thing as "worthy", I find the world to be a beautiful place. I see the perfection that is every friendship I have in my life. I see the perfection that is every situation in my life. I see the joy that is to be found in every second.

I was reminded of what it is like to live in the other world again yesterday.
I was talking to a friend. He REALLY wants to be married. He made the comment, "Why is it so hard? Why can't two people just say, 'I like you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.' I just want to move on with my life."

It sounded so familiar.
But not the way I live my life now.
Trying to find someone to "share the rest of my life with" is HARD. Trying to find a friend to talk to today; Who enjoys spending time together; Who loves me: That's easy. I have a lot of friendships like that. I have a lot of friendships that are absolutely perfect. But I wouldn't have even SEEN these amazing and perfect friendships back when I had only one goal:


If marriage is the only way to "move on with my life", then I can't appreciate the perfection that IS right now. I am feeling grateful for the things I've learned in the past few years. I'm feeling grateful that I no longer feel that pressure.

I feel grateful for all that is today.

Ask for what you want

BJ had planned to go riding with his dad today. This morning, he asked if I wanted to join them. My first answer, "YES!" because I never turn down an opportunity to go riding. Then, I stopped and asked, "You really want me to go with you?"

His answer, "Well... no... not exactly... and yes at the same time."
I asked him to explain. What do you want? Exactly?

He wanted me to join them for a little while - take pictures of the two of them - and then he wanted the rest of the ride just the two of them, but felt like that wasn't a reasonable request.

My plan for the day had been to take a drive up the mountains and find a spot to read and meditate.His request actually fit in perfectly to what I wanted. Ride for a bit, take pictures of the two of them, then find a spot by a stream and read or meditate.

This time, it wasn't me that was afraid to ask for what I wanted. It is still really hard for me too.
I'm afraid people will do things they don't want to do, just because I ask them. I'm afraid I ask too much, but I won't even know it's too much. There is still a part of me that believes if I get what I want, then someone else is going without and maybe hurting.

I'm so glad he asked.

It was fun taking pictures of the two of them. BJ's dad was concerned about me being alone in the mountains. I promised him I wouldn't get eaten by bears, but I couldn't promise anything about mountain lions. He looked at me like I was nuts when I told him, "I'm far more afraid of people than I will ever be of bears and mountain lions. The worst a mountain lion can do is kill you, and there are things far worse than dying."

It worked out to be the perfect day for me. The mountains were so incredibly quiet. I sat in the shade and watched the bugs crawl through the grass and trees. I put my feet in the stream and felt the REALLY cold water wash over them. I felt the sun on my shoulders. I listened to the silence and to me.

It would have been my wedding anniversary. I was worried it was going to be a hard day. No matter how "bad" the relationship was... it was never all "bad". There is sadness that it didn't turn out the way I wanted or planned. I thought I would spend a lot of the day crying, but I didn't. Instead, I just enjoyed a day with me. I'm great company. :)

I've changed a lot in the past few years. I don't believe I need a man to complete me. I don't believe marriage will (or could ever) complete me. I don't believe my happiness is dependent upon anyone else. I no longer feel sad that things didn't work out the way I planned - they worked out so much better than I ever could have planned or dreamed.

Love is beautiful.

A friend posted this link on facebook. I can't quite explain why I loved it so much. I cried lots of happy tears for those people who have wanted to get married and finally can and did.

Wait.
I just realized I looked at 60 wedding photos of couples I don't know, and I am still upright and thinking (mostly) sensibly.
Apparently, not only do I not have a problem with gay marriage, I love it!
 I might have some little bit of romantic in me after all!

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...)

...and this is why I shouldn't be married...

This article was posted by a friend on facebook. I want to share it, because I think she's right on. I want to share it, because as a woman who "needed" men, and was used by those men, I want something different for everyone else.

Single, Female, Mormon, Alone

The time is drawing closer to finalizing the divorce. (I don't know when it will happen... just waiting for the word from the judge.) As it grows closer, I find myself having many, MANY emotions. Sadness. Anxiety. Anger. Sadness again. I might write about those later, but for now, I am going to write about what is most frustrating and frightening.

Although I have not lived as a married woman for almost three years, still I've been married. Marriage was the goal. I'm just a woman. I NEED a man. Priesthood. Provider. Someone to call my name when I die, so I won't be left behind. Eternal Salvation. Highest degree of glory. I am nothing as a single woman.

There is the argument that a woman that doesn't have the chance to marry in this life will have a chance in the next life. But I had the chance, and I threw it away. What will happen to me now?

Marriage is the goal.
That means that when the divorce is finalized, I have to DO something about that. I should date. I should try to find someone to take me back to the temple. (Which, by the way, I DON'T want to do!!) Find someone to complete me.

Maybe I should declare myself a lesbian. Maybe that would be better. Then everyone would be okay with the idea that I would never marry. Hell. Its the recommendation from the prophets. Yet...even then, its been so ingrained in me that I am supposed to have a family, I would feel pressure to find a lesbian partner. And I don't want to do that either.

Dann's excited to get to move on with his life. And I recognize that is what is most fair to him. To ME, I am scared to death.

Who am I if I am not Dann's wife? Who am I if I am not SOMEONE's wife?

I think I'll face these fears, and try just being Jen for a while.

I hate labels, but how else do I explain it?

I've been spending a lot of time on MoHo blogs (Mormon Homosexuals). That is where I feel most at home. I identify with them more than any other blogs, but its not because of my sexuality per se. Here is my effort to define myself.

As a girl, I had no interest in boys. My friends all had crushes and boys they thought were cute. I didn't. Just not interested. As a teenager, I was terrified of boys. I knew I was supposed to be dating, after all I was sixteen and that's what sixteen year old girls do, but I had no interest. I had the opposite of interest, I wanted to run the other way.

I went to college, and there were lots of boys interested in me. I knew the next step in my life was to get married. I did that. He didn't treat me very well. I had no idea that there was anything better...

We divorced. I went on several dates and had a lot of guy friends, until I met Dann. We got serious really fast, and then dated for a long time before we got married.

For two years, we went camping, and slept in the same tent just the two of us. We went on vacations and stayed in the same hotel, and sometimes slept in the same bed. I stayed at his house overnight on more than one occasion. And we never had any "morality problems". Really. The worst thing we ever did while dating was he kissed me while I was laying down. I freaked out. I went to the bishop and confessed my sins. He told me to be careful. I didn't want to do anything I would regret.

Because I was raised a good Mormon girl, I honestly believed that the fact that Dann and I were never tempted by sex to be a good thing. Funny how I thought it would change once we got married. It didn't. I tried. For his sake, I tried.

He really wanted kids, and I thought I wanted them too. I was willing to lay there while he planted his seed, but once I actually got pregnant, I realized I did NOT want that. I still wanted to be willing and I still wanted to try for him, but I wasn't and I didn't.

Fast forward a few years. Dann still wanted sex and babies. I was still trying to figure out how to want that too. I'd talk about how I needed to learn to like it, or just force myself to do it anyways. I knew deep down it would never be anything but a chore for me. I tried, but really... I couldn't make myself like sex any more than I can make myself like liver and onions.(Who eats that anyways?)


Dann and I are divorcing. Sex and babies were really what finally pushed us over the edge. He wanted it. He kept expecting me to change. I kept expecting me to change. Only, I didn't know how to change that.

Am I lesbian? I don't know. I can't really picture being with a woman any more than I can picture being with a man. The idea of sex just makes me nauseous. I have no desire to marry, or create children.

So, if I'm not straight, and I'm not gay, what am I?
Asexual.
I've never met anyone else like me. The closest I have come is people in the MoHo world.

When I read MoHo blogs, I can understand their pain of not fitting in. I can relate to the pain of trying to change something that seems impossible to change. I have prayed and prayed to "not be so selfish", only to continue to just be me. I feel like my parents can relate to the struggle of having a gay child. I will never have the life my parents wanted for me.


Right now, I feel at peace with myself and my sexuality (or lack of it?). I want intimacy in my life, but I don't need physical intimacy. I want friends. I don't want to be tied to one person. I don't want anyone to ever own my body but me. Could all this change as I continue to heal? Yes, but I'm not counting on it. I have freed Dann to find someone who will give him what he wants, which has freed both of us up to be friends. Without the pressures of trying to be his wife, I really like him.


I was raised to believe that sex was bad until it was good. I was raised to believe that my spirit was female, and that I was destined to be a wife and mother for all eternity. When I didn't fit into that world, it was just one more thing that was wrong with me. But the truth is, there is nothing wrong with me.


I am a beautiful, strong, compassionate woman, and I don't need to change a thing.

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.

Sorting it out...

A couple weeks ago... Dann and I had a pretty ugly fight - the worst since I have been home from CFC. He said some things that are still hanging around in my brain. They're pretty close to things I have heard from people all my life... stuff about what I deserve (or don't deserve), how selfish I am, and the list goes on.

He apologized. He promised he would be different. He has been working REALLY hard for a long time. I want to let it go (in a healthy way). I don't like that I keep repeating what he said - only I take it a step further than he did. In my mind, its not as if he was saying those things... more as if I accept them as truth, which is how I used to be. Its really screwing with me... bad...

Now that we're back from vacation, I'm trying to step back and think a little better. My opinion: Everything he said fits into one of three categories. There might be more, but this is what I have come up with:

• What he said was accurate, and I need to change.
• What he said was not accurate, but he still believes it.
• What he said was not accurate, and he knows that, but he said it because he was angry and/or wanted to hurt me.

The next step will be figuring out which things fit where... And then sorting out the differences together. To be completely honest, this scares me. A LOT! It would be much easier to just pretend like I am ok now... only... I am not... At least not yet.

Tao of Equus - The author's description of her first marriage

I was not expecting anything like what I got from this book. I was expecting a book about horses and healing. I did not expect that the author would understand what I have been through in my life.

"My husband had been taught to dominate, not collaborate. Whenever I asserted m own will and vision, my own creativity and passion, he saw this as a dangerous bid to dis empower him. His criticisms of my body and soul weren't designed to be constructive, they were intended to whittle away my confidence and rein me in. People use ropes, whips and spurs to keep their horses in line, but they often find that words are just as effective in subduing members of their own species. Though he possessed a keen intellect, an acrobatic wit, and a gift for public speaking, My husband had no idea how to express his conflicting feelings or discuss his deepest fears in private. Whenever he felt threatened he would use verbal intimidation and sex to enforce his position. Without warning, a romantic evening would turn int a nightmare. The man would make fun of my figure, insisting that my anorexic physique was still too fat, the insults escalating until I was reduced to tears. An hour after I retreated to the bedroom alone, he would slip under the covers, turn my face away from him, and ride me like a beaten-down horse. For days and sometimes weeks afterward, I would feel dead inside, my heart and spirit broken. From my husband's point of view, however, I was operating at a level of self-esteem he could manage, and our marriage was once again harmonious."
(p. 12)

The first time I read this paragraph, I nearly had a panic attack. How could anyone know what it was like to live with Larry? How could she have described it so well?

She went on to say,

"For millennia, wedding vows obliged wives to pledge their obedience, and the majority of men raised as late as the 1960's were taught to expect it. The fact that my husband and I expunged that line form our own vows ultimately didn't hold any weight. on the surface, we were committed to creating a relationship of equals, yet neither one of us had been given the tools to bring this nice idea into form. His conditioning made it impossible for him to accept my growing creativity and self-actualization as anything but a challenge. He had been taught to dominate. Had been taught to submit. Our life together was ruled by old-world values that crept int our relationship and ultimately destroyed our marriage."
(p. 13)

That also sounded so much like my life with Larry. We talked about being equals. He wanted us to be equals, and in every way except one, we were. But in the bedroom... he became completely and totally dominant. When it came to sex and my body - I was no one, nothing but a plaything.

I believe he didn't want to be like that. I believe he wanted something different. We weren't able to have what both of us wanted.