Forty-six

I decided to turn 46 today. And, honestly, I’m having a bit of a hard time with this one. I’m not sure why really – there is nothing particularly significant about this age for me. Maybe it’s the fact that in the last two weeks I’ve been affected by no less than four deaths (three patients at work [two were mostly expected], and one, a colleague that I admired, which was very much unexpected). But even without that, ever since the Winter Solstice on December 21, 2023 (oh wow, exactly 1 month ago!), I have felt the need to withdraw, to be introspective, to hibernate essentially. Not in a “feeling the blues” kind of way, but more of a feeling the need to protect myself in some way. Protect myself from what, I couldn’t tell you. It feels more like the need to wrap myself up in a safe cocoon and turn inward – to give myself the time, space, and energy to examine what’s there and to decide how I want to move forward with my life.

I’ve been in a bit of a holding pattern. My job is going well. I think I’m fairly good at what I do and I’m happy when I can be there for someone, or be a kind, listening ear, or just brighten their day with a smile. I have not been dating, nor wanting to date, but yes, feeling the sting of loneliness. I haven’t been exercising since last October and I feel the weight I’ve put back on, which makes me sad sometimes. I haven’t been writing or painting or photographing or really pursuing anything creative. I’ve been busy though. I don’t really know what all I’ve been busy with, it just seems to ebb and flow, you know? Probably lots more T.V. than I should admit to watching. I don’t have a bad life. I actually recognize – and I’m grateful every day – for the good life that I have.

But I also just feel like I’m not really living either. I don’t know if that makes sense. I keep asking myself what I’m working toward in life; what I want out of life; what do I want to accomplish; what do I want to be? These questions have been consuming me lately, because I don’t know how to answer them.

If you had asked me when I was 16 what I wanted my life to be like at 46, I might have said the following: “I want to be thin, married, have some kids, have a good job, live in a good ward with a good calling.” You know – the plan! Growing up there was only ever one plan. There was only one path. It was clear that this one way was also the only RIGHT way – anything else, anything that deviated from that in even the slightest way was wrong, and the type of wrong that borders on sin. But I didn’t need to worry about that because I wanted “the plan” right? That’s all I’ve ever wanted, was that plan - to fit in; to be normal; to be like everyone else.

And yet…

I’ve had something inside of me that’s haunted me since I was young, as young as 6. And believe it or not, I’m not talking about being gay. Of course, that plays into it, but there is one struggle that I’ve had throughout my life, that in all honesty, and just for me personally, rivals the excruciating experience of growing up a “closeted gay” in the LDS faith – being fat.

You see, what church gave me was something clear, and something simple – the plan. Grow up, go on a mission, get married, have kids, be a productive, good member of society and serve others. Simple, right? And in a way, this plan gave me a direction so that I no longer really had to think for myself. The plan was laid out and I didn’t have to think too much about it – I just had to follow it. I was promised, in fact, that if I did follow it, that everything would be okay – that all my problems would be addressed, that all my challenges/obstacles would be removed, that I would receive miracles that would change my heart and mind, and a myriad of other promises. I was taught, that when something is right, God prepares a way, he lightens burdens, he makes things possible, and he makes them easy – that’s how you know they are the right things to do.

You might imagine my confusion then, when going to the temple, going on a mission, following the counsel of my priesthood leaders, etc., did not yield the results – the miracles – I was asking for and was told I would receive. I remained fat, ugly, disgusting, unwanted, repulsive, weak, pitied, looked down on, dismissed, devalued, etc. (and yes, gay).

I was 6 years old when I knew that I was fat and that being fat is bad. I still remember the experience, which I won’t relate here. This was also the age where I was molested for the first time (that I can recall, anyway), but I don’t remember how closely these two experiences occurred, though it makes sense that I might feel more self-directed body hatred after having my body violated. In any case, as I say, I knew I was fat and that being fat was bad. From that moment on, I just wanted to be thin, to be normal, to be like everyone else so that I could fit in and be a part of things, and not singled out and picked on as something detestable, gross, unwanted, ridiculed, and unworthy.

So, I prayed. And I promised God that I would be so, so good - perfect even, if that’s what it took, so that I could be worthy of this blessing. This blessing that never came.

Consequently, when people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up or what I wanted out of life – I dutifully recited “the plan.” That was after all the only acceptable answer they wanted – whether they voiced that expectation or not. And I said it for so long that I fully believed it myself. But there was also another want there, a deeper want. One that I didn’t think was as acceptable an answer, because compared to “the plan,” this desire of mine was superficial, selfish, vain, prideful, etc. This desire to be thin wasn’t ever really about a bodyfat percentage, mind you. It was about what “being thin” means. It means, being approved of. It means being acceptable to everyone. It means being wanted or desired. It means being attractive and confident. It means being included and being valued. It means being seen as a person worthy of love. But superficial because I also just wanted to be, like, super hot, you know? Hahaha! (*rolls eyes, shrugs shoulders, sighs...*)

Looking back, coming home from my mission and going to college were probably more significant turning points than I realized. Even though I was working my way through “the plan,” suddenly, there were parts of this plan that weren’t established. Yes, get an education and a good job, but a good job doing what? Suddenly there were all these choices that were up to me that I didn’t have “a plan” for. What DO I want to do for work or a career? What are my interests? What do I really want to do?

And I didn’t know, because I had never thought about it. And I never thought about it, because all I could think about was how I wanted to be thin.

Sure, I have a million different interests: writing, photography, cooking, hiking, drawing/painting, music/singing, life sciences – biology, anatomy/physiology, botany, astronomy, etc. But do I love any of those “interests” enough to turn them into a career? Every time I tried something, I found that the answer was, “no, not really.” And to a much greater “unconscious” degree it didn’t really matter what I did - as long as I was thin doing it. Because the reality for me is that anything else I may have wanted didn’t really matter as much as the desire to be thin.

I know, I know – I mean, to hear me talk about it this way makes it sound like I would have put all my heart and soul into making weight loss happen, right? But I couldn’t because, for one, it wasn’t part of “the plan.” The plan doesn’t say you need to be thin to get to the celestial kingdom. So I was left feeling that this one thing, this one important, all encompassing thing to me, was something that I shouldn’t want. And because I tried to be so good, I tried in fact to be perfect, but still didn’t warrant this blessing, I felt that this was God’s way of saying, “no, I’m not going to grant this to you because you don’t deserve it.” And that’s what I’ve believed my whole life – that as much as I wanted thinness (and everything that comes with it), I just didn’t deserve it.

Surely, if I had deserved it, I would either have it as a natural condition (like most everyone else around me it seemed); or I would have been given that condition as a reward for my faithfulness. And not only that – and this point is critically important – but to really have been worthy of it would mean that I had obtained it “easily!” Because, after all, in my spiritual arithmetic, God’s blessings (i.e., his approval) make obtaining blessings easy.

Consequently, I also learned the inverse of this rule – that if good things are easy, then bad things are hard.

Have you ever tried to lose 100 pounds before? Guess what? It’s hard. It’s really, super, f******g, agonizingly hard. Which meant that – because it was so hard – that it wasn’t right for me to achieve. I could WANT it, sure, and I absolutely wanted it, as I said, because of all the desirable things that come with it, but to actually HAVE it? No way. It’s hard, so it must be wrong. It’s hard, so it must not be what God wants for me; it’s not what He thinks I’m worthy or deserving of. If it were, He would have made it easy. Do you see the confusing loop I’ve spent my life in? And most likely why I still feel like I’m spinning my wheels now?

I can see now that my rules (easy=good/hard=bad) were flawed, but I’ve been conditioning my brain with these beliefs for 46 f*****g years!! I have made this my default setting. This is just how I approach life; and no wonder I feel stuck, stagnant, and busy but with no real purpose.

Letting go...

Photo by Catalin Pop on Unsplash

I’m scared, I guess. I’m scared to change – I know I need to; I know it will be good to; but I’m scared. I’ve lived my whole life doing what’s “easy” because I thought it was the right thing to do. Facing the prospect of now needing to do hard things challenges every core belief I’ve had ingrained in me for as long as I can remember.

Ugh, the irony, right? Just facing that I need to do hard things is the hardest thing of all! Laaaaaaaammmme!

But letting go of old, ingrained beliefs – even when I know it’s the right thing to do – is still undeniably hard. And I even feel a bit of some shame and embarrassment that it’s taken me 46 years to figure this out.

You know, it’s strange. When I look back over the last 46 years, I reflect on all the hard things I’ve experienced – and I’ve experienced some really hard things (for me personally, I’m not trying to compare to anyone else or win the “who has the worst life award” here!!). But those hard experiences seem to fall into one of two categories: 1 – victimhood; i.e., that the hard things I’ve been through were hard things that were done TO ME; or 2 – expectations; i.e., that the hard things I did do were expectations from being part of “the plan.” For example, going on a mission, or going back to school to get a Master’s degree, which was extremely hard, but because “getting a good job” was part of “the plan,” I didn’t stop to question it.

But now I need to focus on letting go. As hard as it will be. I need to let go of the belief that hard equals bad. I need to let go of the need to be perfect in order to somehow “earn” thinness (approval, love, etc.). I need to know, learn, and accept that sometimes, good things are hard – even really hard, and that’s okay. I also need to acknowledge that sometimes things are good even when they are hard and even when they don’t seem to be a part of “the plan.”

I still don’t really know what I want to do with my life. No matter what I decide, I do still want to be thin doing it. That desire has never gone away, right or wrong. Maybe my journey to find fat loss, weight loss, health, etc. is the training ground I’ve needed in order to challenge my beliefs about things being hard. Maybe, for me personally, and for whatever reason, this is the best condition for me to learn that I can do hard things, that sometimes hard things are good and that I can finally, perhaps, grow into the man I want to become, some day. I don’t know, maybe ask me again when I’m 76…

Enough

“It’s good enough just being me.”

There may only be a handful of people who remember that Elder Hales spoke those words at a normal, regular Sacrament Meeting in the Holladay 29^th Ward many years ago. (Normal, aside from the fact that a member of the Quorum of the Twelve was speaking to us!) His words had a big impact on me.

This was one of two messages that stood out to me*. Mostly because I didn’t expect an Apostle to be preaching self-acceptance; if anything, I would have expected a message on charity, or selfless service to others, or sacrificing yourself for the sake of others, etc. But his message was, essentially, love yourself.

And this wasn’t just a message, it was instruction. He instructed us to go home that day, look at ourselves in a mirror and say, “it’s good enough just being me.” I felt that I needed to take his counsel. I went home, as instructed. I stood in front of the mirror, as instructed (I’m already feeling uncomfortable at this point). I look at myself, but not in the eyes, and I hear Elder Hales’ voice in my head, telling me what to say, and… I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t voice the words that were echoing through my mind. I just couldn’t say it. And I was so disappointed in myself – ashamed, actually.

I couldn’t say those words, because I didn’t believe them. The idea, the concept, was foreign to me. I had tried the experiment in the hopes that by saying it out loud it would help me believe it, but when it came to the actual moment, I couldn’t do it. It felt too false and I didn’t want to voice a lie.

It is many years later, now, and I have learned many things since that time. I have learned that I grew up in a shaming environment. (Side Note: I don’t want you read the word “shame” and hear “bad,” “unloving,” “harsh,” etc. My parents were loving and generous and made enormous sacrifices for our happiness. We did have many, many good times. But in spite of their good intentions, the nature of our interpersonal interactions had the effect of instilling shame in me; unintentionally, certainly, but constantly there, just the same.)

For those who may not really know the difference between guilt and shame, it boils down to this. Guilt says, “I did something bad.” Shame says, “I am bad.”

Shame is concrete. Heavy. Immutable. Immovable. Shame is like a virus on identity, it hijacks it and starts replicating itself, producing more and more until the whole system is overwhelmed, ultimately altering identity. It can lead to breakdown, as in illness, or in some cases, it does lead to death, typically suicide. Shame can become so pervasive that it seems that the only way out from under it, is to destroy the self completely - annihilate the self, altogether. At least, that’s how it felt for me.

Shame became a source of fear. I never felt safe. Shame became a foggy, fun-house mirror. I could never see myself clearly. When I did look in the mirror, what I saw was someone who was ugly; someone deserving of punishment and suffering; someone who was worthless. Someone who was never enough.

I suppose, to be fair, there are lots of reasons why someone might feel like they are “not enough,” but for me, it was shame. So when I tried to follow a prophet’s counsel that day, the reason I couldn’t speak those words was because, when I looked in the mirror, all I saw was shame. I KNEW I wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t just a thought, or a feeling, or a suspicion, or even a belief, it was knowledge – certain, factual knowledge – that I wasn’t good enough. You know what’s really interesting? I don’t even know what I “wasn’t enough” for! If you had asked me, “what is it you’re not good enough for?” I would have looked at you with a dumbfounded, blank stare. “I don’t know... life?” I might’ve said. But that’s kind of why “not good enough” can seem so powerful, because it’s all encompassing. It can apply to anything. Oh, you like to paint? You’re not good enough to be a real artist. Oh, you like to sing? You’re not good enough to be a professional singer. (Heck, you’re not even good enough to sing in the shower, let alone in front of other people.) Oh, you actually like school? You’re not smart enough to get straight A’s like everyone else does. Oh, you like to be active? You’re REALLY not good enough to deserve being thin and athletic. And so on and so on…

But I told myself, there IS a way to be enough, isn’t there? I mean, there just HAS to be. Wait - I know! “Perfection.” (You see where I’m going with this?) If I could just be perfect and not EVER mess up or make a mistake, if I were perfect, then I would be good enough, then I would measure up, then I would be successful and happy and have no trials…, and all the other lies that go along with “being perfect.”

Because for all of us mortals currently kickin’ it here on Earth, perfection isn’t realistic. Earth life IS a place for us to perform, but it is not the “performance” state, it is the “preparatory” state. Essentially, life is one big practice round where we are learning to eventually become perfect one day, long into the future. (Bodies are weird; we need time to learn how to deal with them!) Yet I act like this dress rehearsal is the last game of the season and if I mess up, I’m toast. (Yes, I know I’m mixing metaphors; oh look, another imperfection…!)

The other problem with perfection? Besides not being attainable in this life? I have the idea that it seems to carry the promise of relief. Perfect people don’t have trials, or pain, right? I mean, they’re perfect, so nothing bothers them or gets to them; they never get overwhelmed or frustrated or angry. Life for perfect people is blissfully happy and serene, right? Isn’t that ultimate peace/relief? No pain, no trials, no burdens… no shame? All for the price of just being perfect; just being good enough.

That’s the dynamic that keeps me in a shame loop: Perfection is the antidote to shame, so I try to be perfect. But because I’m a “not perfect” human, I mess up and when I mess up I feel shame for not being perfect, but I know that being perfect will cure the shame because then I won’t have anything to be ashamed of, so I try to be perfect, only to mess up, shame myself and so on and so forth.

But every argument is based on suppositions and I’ve got some doozies here that are quite false. For example, the idea that perfection means the removal of trials/pain. The Savior was the most perfect person to ever walk the earth, and not only was he not spared from experiencing pain, he was actually made to endure a pain that is unfathomable by man. The most perfect man suffered the greatest pain - ever. Also, there is scriptural support for the idea that God, our Heavenly Father (and the Savior), feels sorrow, sadness, jealousy, anger, wrath even. I mean, come on – seriously, wrath? I don’t think I’ve ever felt wrath. But apparently He does, and He IS perfect. So even if I could be perfect, it wouldn’t relieve me of feeling pain and sorrow.

One might throw in a valid objection here, “…but aside from being capable of feeling sorrow, being perfect means you don’t have to worry about having done anything to feel ashamed of.”And you’d be right. Which leads me to a harsh truth – you ARE going to do things wrong. You aren’t going to do things perfectly because you can’t – you are human and flawed and fallible, and it’s okay!! Heavenly Father allowed you to be this way for a reason. If he wanted you to BE perfect right now, He would make you perfect right now. Because of all these things, the “harsh reality truth” is that, when it comes to perfection you’re best isn’t good enough, but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t good enough.

So what does it mean?

I think it means this: you came here to learn how to be perfect, but, much like learning to play an instrument (or a sport or any new skill for that matter), you have to make a lot of wrong notes in order to learn how to play the right ones. With ongoing, long-term, consistent practice, eventually, you learn to play all the right notes, to play it perfectly, but playing it perfectly doesn’t make you any more important or worthy than you already were while you were practicing, it just means you’ve improved your ability in that skill. This life is all about learning to be perfect one day (i.e., through practice) and not to be perfect right now.

There is also the false assumption that perfection equals protection. This is the idea that if I’m good enough, i.e., perfect, I will be protected from having bad things happen to me. I mean, don’t we read that in the scriptures? That when His people are faithful the Lord lightens their burdens so that they can’t feel them? By that definition alone, I’ve never been good enough. I have burdens!! And I feel them!! Far from being removed, they haven’t been lightened (that I’m aware of). I mean how can you go through life, feeling occasionally suicidal and still believe that your burdens have been “lightened?” You can’t! At least, I can’t anyway. But much like feeling “bad” things, perfection, even if I had it, wouldn’t protect me from bad things happening. The Lord may have lightened burdens for his faithful people, but they were still in bondage… Being perfect didn’t protect the Savior from ridicule, hatred and scorn. It didn’t protect him from being crucified.

So it starts to feel hopeless. If being perfect doesn’t prevent bad things from happening, what’s the point of trying? The point is, we were meant to grow to be like our Father in Heaven – some day. Meaning, perfection IS attainable, but it has to be learned and learning takes… you guessed it – trial and error. You may not be good enough to be perfect right now, but you are good enough to be learning how to be perfect some day.

Maybe this is, in part, why President Boyd K. Packer said:

“It was meant to be that life would be a challenge. To suffer some anxiety, some depression, some disappointment, even some failure is normal. Teach our members that if they have a good, miserable day once in a while, or several in a row, to stand steady and face them. Things will straighten out. There is great purpose in our struggle in life” (That All May Be Edified [1982], 94, emphasis added).

I guess my point is this: My best isn’t good enough to be perfect, but it is good enough for just about everything else. In other words, for right now, “it’s good enough just being me.”

*The other message was how strengths can also be weaknesses, which kind of blew my mind, but more on that another time.

Fear: A study in black and white (part three)

I realize I have a tendency to ramble, so let's hope this "part three" is the final post in this (now) series of posts...

The vast world of electronic information, whether analog or digital, can fundamentally be broken down into 1's and 0's. This binary code means either "yes" or "no;" "on" or "off." It's straightforward and "black and white." We depend on this simple system to essentially run our electronic lives. But does this translate into other areas of our lives, such as morality (right or wrong), religion (sinner or saint), self-concept (worthless or worthful)?

Long before I understood electronic communication or religious dogma, I classified the world into good and bad (correlating that with positive and negative). I imagine those are concepts that are easiest for children to understand and I would surmise they form the foundation of black and white thinking. While I think this is acceptable, even advisable, for forming a foundation in life, it makes me wonder - if this is just the foundation, what is built on top of it?

I suppose what I'm really wondering is, how have my beliefs in a world of good and bad (black and white) evolved? Or have they? What if that system of classifying things into a good camp or a bad camp never really changed? I mean it still works, right? Some things are good, some are bad and it's helpful to label them as such. But what about the gray?

I see that there are shades of gray in life. Not everyone who is good is 100% good; not everyone who is bad is 100% bad. I see this in the scriptures. Early in the Book of Mormon, the Lamanites were wicked, but praised by Jacob because they loved their wives and did not have concubines. In the bible, Jonah was a prophet, but ran from his duty. In a very short, but profound verse in the book of Ether, Moriantion did justice to the people (good), but did not do justice to himself (bad) and so did not qualify for the spirit of the Lord (Ether 10:11).

I see shades of gray in the world, but I haven't see them in my life. Either I am good or I am bad - there is no in-between. This all or nothing thinking leads to despair. How can anyone keep the commandment to be perfect, all the while being doomed to be a sinner? Prefect is a pretty strict qualification. It doesn't allow for sins or mistakes. Which means I can pretty much peg the sealing of my eternal destruction to about 5 hours (give or take) after my baptism when I had a bad thought! One bad thought? BAM! You're done - it's over, finished. Game over. You lose. There is no consolation prize, but thanks for coming anyway.

According to a black and white thinker anyway. Which, is obviously not the case in the real world. Why give a commandemnt to be perfect, then say you have to learn everything "line upon line and precept upon precept?" Doesn't that seem the teensiest bit contradictory? To me it's saying, essentially, "You HAVE to be perfect to get into heaven, but, unfortunately, you're not ever going to be perfect while you're on earth. So..., good luck with that."

What I've been (purposely) omitting here (for literary emphasis) is the Mediator that joins the expectation (commandment to be perfect) with the possible outcomes (salvation/eternal life or damnation). Since this post is not a discussion of the Savior's role or mission, it will suffice me to say, He allows for the shades of gray and a lack of appreciation for Him in my life, leads to a lack of appreciation for progress or the process of learning.

But this is a post about the impact of black and white thinking. Which I think I must have already stated in this and the previous two posts: Not making any allowance for the grays of life can lead to misery and hopelessness/despair. Or HAS lead to misery, hopelessness, and despair, I should say, because that is the impact it has had. No wonder I am so hard on myself and feel that I deserve to be punished, if I can only be either a sinner or a saint and I sin, that makes me a sinner. Since sinning is bad, I'm bad, and the negative lables just keep coming.

The truth is, I'm not a vile sinner, although I do sin at times. The truth is, I'm not a saintly person, although I am obedient at times. The truth, is that I'm somewhere in between the sliding scale of black and white and my life is filled with grays. As an artist at heart, I should really appreciate that more. When drawing/painting, the grays (shadows) add depth and dimension; they add contour and prespective. This is just like in life - the challenge of having a dual nature within is to subdue one and build the other. This process is just that, a process. I've been so focused on the destination, that I haven't given any thought to the necessity of the process of learning and growing. I haven't allowed myself to appreciate the depth, dimension, contour and perspective that experience (i.e., the process of learning) brings.

No, I'm not perfect; I still have work to do to be more obedient. No, I'm not skinny, but I'm still probably healthier than I've ever been. No, I'm not the top of my class, but I've had three people this week (independently) tell me that they are glad I am in this class. I think that means, that for the most part, people seem to like me the way I am and my true friends want me to be better and encourage me to be better, but also accept me for who I am, the way I am. [As a side note, this has long been my definition of true love and what I am ultimately seeking in an eternal companion: Someone who sees the potential of what I can become, but loves me for who I am now.]

My goal is to see life like a magnet, which I think can encompass my evolving belief system.
1. The black and white - A positive pole and a negative pole: yes, the fact that there is a right and wrong exists.
2. The shades of gray - The pull between the two: life rarely happens at one end of the pole. Most of life is the struggle between being pulled toward either end and the choices we make impact which end holds sway.

Sorry, again, for the SUPER long post, but I had to put my [chromatic] thoughts down into black and white (HA! How's that for irony?)!!