A Year in Review

Photo by Paul Skorupskas on Unsplash

So it’s been a while since I’ve written anything for my blog, which was an active choice on my part, and incidentally, had nothing to do with Covid.

October 2019 I was feeling very lonely. For all intents and purposes, life was pretty good. But I was lonely. I was struggling with more than just loneliness, however, because I also felt even more restricted by being active in the church, which I really loved, but also wanting companionship with a man. I just couldn’t figure out how to reconcile wanting to have a more “intimate” relationship with a man while “being active” in the church. It felt like too much of a contradiction – I suppose we call it Cognitive Dissonance these days, and that’s an apt description. I felt out of balance, out of harmony.

I was slowly coming to the conclusion that maybe the answer was that I needed to pause my activity in the church and pursue finding a relationship. Not with the intention of turning my back on the church, but to actually honor the sacredness with which I hold church doctrines and not feel like I was being duplicitous or living a double standard by dating men while being active in church. I didn’t know if those two things could co-exist, and I guess in my heart, I felt like I didn’t want to offend God by saying, “yes, I believe in and with agree with your teachings, but then I’m just going to flaunt them by living ‘contrary’ to those teachings.” That would be lying to God and to myself, and I just couldn’t do that.

This was an intense period of inner turmoil. How could I actually be contemplating doing something I said I would never do and leave church activity? There was a part of me that felt like if I left the church and started dating men – with everything that it might entail – then I would never go back. That broke my heart, but such is the power of the need for connection and companionship. I literally felt like I was starving for a man’s touch and affection.

Can I just be real here for a second? Please don’t misread what I’m saying as me looking for an excuse to have sex – because that isn’t what I’m talking about. To be perfectly frank, sex was never – and still isn’t – a part of the equation. I would be fine without sex [I mean I’m 43 years old, I’ve made it this far…]. What I’m talking about IS literally companionship – affection, tenderness, kindness, caring, being with someone when I’m happy, sad, scared, lonely, etc. My love language is touch. To be without touch feels like I am a withering plant or like I’m dying inside. It’s more than just loneliness – it’s emptiness, darkness, hopelessness, starvation, and yes, even death. None of which is going to be filled with sex, which I believe is true for anyone, regardless of your “sexual” orientation.

I spent a great deal of time in prayer. I did not make this decision lightly. I wrestled for weeks with what I wanted and what I felt like I needed to do. At times it felt like it was the only course of action and inevitable. At other times it felt like the ultimate betrayal to God and that I would be forever damned for taking this course of action. As I prayed, I did feel that I received multiple responses from Heavenly Father. I did not hear a voice, or have a vision – nothing so grandiose or profound, but I did get answers – eventually. While I can’t relate everything I felt in my heart, I just want to share the gist of the message I did receive.

Not once did I ever feel the Lord giving me permission to leave the church, nor did I feel Him giving me direction to leave the church, but what I felt was His support with whatever choice I decided to make. It was as if He was saying, “I can’t really tell you what to do here – this has to be up to you. But Micah, if you decide to leave the church, I know you aren’t leaving me and I’m not leaving you. Do what you need to do, but I’m still here.” I still get emotional thinking about it. It wasn’t so much that He was supporting my course of action as it was he was supporting me. For me personally, it was a confirmation that my journey is my own, and that whatever road I might be walking, He’s still here walking it with me.

I called my Bishop, who is also my ministering brother, and he came over and we had a good talk. I could never say enough good things about how loving and supportive he was. While he couldn’t know it, his response echoed Heavenly Father’s message to me – “we love you, we support you; do what you need to do, but we’re still here.” He honored my request to be released from my callings at the end of the year and then, beginning January 2020, I would stop going to church. I was about to say, “leave the church,” but that’s not entirely true. I did keep my ministering assignments, because I love my families and didn’t want to lose connection with them.

My next big task was to go about finding “my community.” Not just dating, but actually looking for more friends in the LGBTQ community. I did not have any close gay friends and I was feeling very isolated from the queer community in general. It was like wanting to go to a foreign country, but not knowing the language or the customs and I found that it was a much more daunting task than I anticipated. I signed up to be a volunteer with the Utah Pride Center, thinking that at least I could make some connections there.

Then the world imploded.

Covid-19 swept the globe and everything shut down. It was hard not to take that personally. After all the emotional turmoil I went through, suddenly all avenues of making connections in the gay community were gone.

A couple months prior, as I was planning to stop going to church, I was speaking with a friend about it and he said, “you know, maybe you should be blogging about what you’re going through.” I agreed with him, I thought it was a great idea. But somehow, I just couldn’t. To this day, I still don’t really know why I couldn’t. I attempted to several times, but ultimately, I just couldn’t. That, in and of itself, was strange because writing has always been so therapeutic for me.

Then everything shut down and it was taking all I had just to get through each day. Work was changing rapidly as the nursing home I work in rapidly shut down all non-essential personnel and instituted a host of isolation and contact precautions, which was necessary, but incredibly stressful – for us as employees as well as my patients.

In the first couple of months of the shut down – I would say from about March through April – I gained about 30 pounds; essentially all of the weight I had worked so hard the last year to lose.

I was heartbroken on so many levels. Mentally, emotionally, physically, socially, etc. It was an incredibly dark period for me and the only thing that made it worse was not having anyone to turn to. It wasn’t that I didn’t have people in my life to reach out to, but who could I talk to that would really understand my situation? I had no one that I felt I could relate to and I didn’t know anyone that I felt could relate to me.

So I ate. I gained weight. I stopped working out (gyms were closed anyway!). I struggled to wake up each day. I struggled to have any purpose. In a way, looking back, I think my patient’s helped me more than I ever helped them, because I was glad that there were people who needed me. Or at the very least, were happy to see me each day, and that was something.

All around us other facilities were having outbreaks and we were just waiting for our turn. As our director kept saying, “it’s not a matter of if, but when.” For us, “when” turned out to be mid-December. I got Covid right at the cusp of the outbreak in our facility. It was the week before Christmas, which meant I would be quarantining in my apartment for the next two weeks and would not be able to see my family for Christmas. I was mad, and again, heartbroken. I am extremely grateful for technology that allowed me to be with my family over Zoom and we could still “open presents together,” but it just wasn’t the same as being there, obviously.

I also credit my Bishop, again, and several other people from my ward, who checked in on me and brought me food and treats. They kept me alive in more ways than one. As I said, it was a really dark time.

Perhaps it was the coincidental timing of having Covid resolve for me and my facility at the same time the year was winding down. In an unexpected way, I felt like some semblance of “closure,” and I felt hopeful for 2021. While I can’t say that I felt like everything would “return to normal,” (I don’t think anything will truly be “normal”) I did feel like everything was going to be okay. I maintain my testimony that Heavenly Father is in charge, and that nothing that happens is a surprise to Him or catches Him off guard. He isn’t just watching us go through this, He’s going through it with us. And I know He has the power to make everything okay, even when it doesn’t seem like it’s going to be.

And now here we are. I’m typing this on the last day of the first month of the new year. I found a new doctor months ago who put me on some helpful meds. I’m back at the gym working with a trainer and down about 15 pounds (only 120 more pounds to go… haha!). I turned 43 this month, which doesn’t seem possible, but there it is. And I’m finally able to reflect on what I’ve been through this last year.

I still have plans to find community and companionship this year. I still only go to church once in a while. I still struggle with knowing my purpose in life. I still have amazing friends and family. I am incredibly blessed. And yeah, I still get lonely, but I have realized a few things.

I know now that as much as I need companionship and affectionate, masculine touch, it won’t “heal” me or make everything okay (i.e., “perfect”). The problem is not that I need a man to be whole (or even just another person), the problem is that I believe that I am incomplete as I am.

Nothing I have been through has been as hard as recognizing the need, and then learning how, to change how I see myself along with how I think and feel about myself – which I know now is absolutely crucial to my growth, development, and progress. Nothing is so damaging as believing that I am worthless, ugly, and undeserving, which I have believed my whole life.

My identity has centered around all of the things I am not; or all of the things I have failed to be – attractive, desirable, fit, athletic, masculine, strong, etc. My focus has always been on what I lack. I must be the exact opposite of the rich young ruler in the Bible, who asked the Savior, “what lack I yet?” If it were me in his shoes, I’d be asking the Savior, “what do I even have to offer?”

I read and hear so many people say that you need to find your passion, you need to find your purpose, you need to follow your heart and do what makes your heart sing, and so on. To the point that now I feel like an absolute failure because I’m NOT living with “purpose” or “passion.” I’m good at my job, but I can’t say that I’m doing what makes my heart sing. For everyday that I wake up and don’t feel like I really have a purpose that day, I feel like a failure; which is not a great way to start the day.

I agree that people should do what they love, but what do you do when you have so many “passions” that you can’t possibly follow them all? I love art, music, photography, graphic design, singing, writing, exercising, traveling, hiking, tennis, volleyball, astrophysics, cellular biology, anatomy and physiology of the human body, marine biology, gardening and horticulture, movies, television, and the list goes on and on. All of them make my heart sing in one way or another. I could spend a hundred lifetimes deep diving into every single one of those topics, but… I have to pay rent. I have to buy food, and clothes, and drive a car that requires gas and insurance coverage, and pay bills for electricity, gas, and internet, etc. Sure, I could pursue a career out of any one of those things, but then how do I pick one? They all feel like they could be my purpose!!

I have come to the conclusion that all people will have their own purpose, which will look different for everyone. Maybe I have been so focused on what I’m doing – or not doing, as the case may be – that I’ve ignored the possibility that maybe my purpose should be on what I’m becoming. I am not a person whose purpose is to start a non-profit, or even a multi-billion dollar company, that changes the world, but why does it have to be? Why does my purpose have to be defined by an accomplishment? Can’t my purpose be that I worked on becoming a better human being? That I worked on not only living through some pretty traumatic events, but that I was able to overcome those traumas and make something of myself that also helps me to be a benefit to the people around me, even in some small way?

My hope is that by believing my purpose to be self-improvement that a natural outgrowth of that process will be that I am able to do something meaningful in life. And that when I do find companionship that I will be able to offer my best self – flawed and human as they come, sure – but still my best self, without placing pressure on that person to “fill my needs,” or “make me whole,” because I’m already okay with who I am.

I don’t know what this new year will bring, but perhaps for the first time in my life, for real, I am hopeful that I will end the year a better man than when I started. Not just a changed man, but someone who is becoming the best version of myself that I can be. That being said, I DO hope I change! I do hope I lose more weight this year; I do hope that I find the companionship I seek; I do hope I find my life’s mission; and I do have hope that I can learn to think and feel about myself with more love, compassion, and acceptance; that I will change my perspective from one of “pre-determined worthlessness and inevitable failure,” to “I have within me the pre-determined ability to CREATE the life I want.”

So here’s to the future – all the great things yet to come and all the great things yet to be made.

The Two Epiphanies

I recently had an epiphany about myself, or more accurately, about how I treat myself, which I’ll tell you about in a moment. After some time pondering over this epiphany, I was reminded of another epiphany I had about 12 years ago, which I’ll also tell you about in a moment.

My most recent epiphany was born out of some challenges that arose in my health and fitness journey; namely, an ultimately unsuccessful experiment with post-workout carbs (sweet potato, if you must know); an unexpectedly severe reaction to Mother’s Day carb-loading (bread and macaroni, also, if you must know); Which resulted in two days of calling in sick to work, and spending those days in bed, hiding under the covers and not wanting to face life – or even continue life – I’ll admit it, because I thought about it… and then, when I did finally get up the courage to go back out into the world, and get in a workout, I reinjured my knee from an old injury I’d had before (not severe, but bad enough to warrant some investigation).

Basically, I was in the dumps.

In trying to understand why things went south for me so quickly, I came to the realization that my initial reaction in life is to punish myself – for anything and everything. My epiphany was this: “I punish myself for being who I am AND I punish myself for NOT being who I want to be (or who I think I should be…).” When I say punish myself, what I mean is that I am mercilessly cruel in the way I talk to myself and in the thoughts I have about myself, which usually lead to some form of binging or “giving up” on myself in some way.

It was eye opening to me to realize that I put myself in a no-win situation. From this perspective I have been unable to see or acknowledge anything good about myself, such as making progress or even just not giving up sometimes. I could finally see how I have been holding myself back by the way I think about myself. I also saw that I have not been offering myself compassion for when things don’t work out the way I hope, or forgiveness for when I mess up or make poor choices, or even just allowing myself to be an imperfect human. Acknowledging that I don’t treat myself very well, I asked myself how I should think/feel about myself and this led me to recall a previous epiphany.

About 12 years or so ago, this would have been about 2005 or 2006, I was talking to a friend at work about relationships (we were both single at the time). As we ended our conversation she walked away, but then turned and asked me, “so, what are you looking for in a spouse?” I thought for a second and said, “I want someone who can see the potential for what I can become, but will still love me for who I am right now.” Even as I said it, it felt profound to me. That epiphany has been a yardstick for me, for every date or relationship I’ve pursued. It’s also been what I have promised myself I would do for someone else.

Here’s the kicker - somehow, in the last 12 years of my life, I never even once considered that I needed to apply that same attitude toward myself. Not once have I really considered my own potential – because all I could see was who I was not, i.e., who I “should have been.” Not once have I really loved myself for who I am – because all I could see was that who I am (a broken, weak, fat, ugly, man) wasn’t good enough. I punished myself – for being who I am and for being who I’m not.

I don’t know why these two epiphanies occurred 12 years apart. I don’t know why I had the answer for how I should treat myself for so long without realizing that I needed to apply it to myself. But I’m grateful to finally “see” it. I’m grateful because these epiphanies highlight what I need to DO in order to change my thoughts, my beliefs, and how I treat myself. Understanding is important, but it’s only half the battle. Now, I need to actually apply what I’ve learned. I need to see all the potential for what I could become, yet I need to love and accept myself for who I am – as I am – right now.

And no, that doesn’t mean “accepting” that I’m a broken, weak, fat, ugly, man. It means accepting that I am just a man – a human. A normally flawed, beautifully imperfect person who has just as many strengths as weaknesses; who has just as many gifts as handicaps; who has just as many talents as inadequacies; and who just wants to do the best he can in life. That’s worth something in this world and now I know to stop discounting that – to stop discounting me.

It’s wonderful when we can inspire and encourage someone to be more, to achieve more, to excel and to accomplish great things, but more often than not, those same people also just want to be loved for who they are.

Like me.

Other types of closets

I have struggled with Same Gender Attraction (SGA) since the age of 10. Technically, that means I’m gay.

Up to now, however, they way I answered the question, “Are you gay?” depended on the day you asked me. Some days I'd say, Yes; other days I'd say, No; which may not make sense to some people. If I’m attracted to other men, then why would I NOT self-identify as gay? To sum it up in one word – behavior. I don’t live a gay lifestyle. Do I “feel” gay – yes. Do I “act” gay – no (although some people might disagree! I mean I HAVE always been a “sensitive” guy and I DO have a longstanding obsession with the Care Bears…!).

If I feel gay, then why not act gay? I can also sum that up in one word – church. I can’t separate my identity from being LDS because it IS a part of who I am – and not just because “I was raised that way.” If I’m being completely honest, yes, my parents were very clear that I was expected to continue the same belief system, BUT – at some point – I had to know for myself if my religion was truly the right religion for me. I had to know – what DID I believe about God and religion and specifically about LDS beliefs? The short response is: I came to know for myself that the church is true, or in other words, that its teachings are true doctrine from God. I’ve had too many experiences and witnesses to deny it – and I don’t deny it; and I hope I never will deny it. But what I also can’t deny is how I feel. And believe me – when I say “I’ve struggled,” that there is no earthly way I have adequate words to describe the hell that I’ve been through in battling these feelings of SGA.

I know – and I accept – that being homosexual is contrary to God’s plan for his children. (In this instance, I’m not talking about how he wants all of his children to be happy and to follow their own path even though I believe in that as well.) I truly believe that marriage should be between a man and a woman and that mother/father/children are central to Heavenly Father’s plan for progression for all his children, such as outlined in the Proclamation on the Family. And yet…

Being LDS (active and in good standing with a current Temple Recommend) hasn’t taken those “other” feelings away. I’m approaching 30 years of praying, fasting, crying, pleading, bargaining, suffering, punishing myself, torturing myself, hating myself – and not once have these feelings diminished. How can that be explained? If I believe the Gospel is true, if I believe that marriage between man and woman is right, if I want to follow God’s plan, if I have been asking in faith, believing that Heavenly Father can change my heart, asking for what’s right – then why has my prayer not been answered? Why has that scriptural promise not been fulfilled for me? I’ve been through every level of: it’s because I’m worthless to because this is just the cross He wants me to bear through life and continue to choose to remain faithful – which I have strived to do so far. Ultimately, though, I don’t know how to answer that question.

But I do know that I’ve been hiding a part of myself. At first I didn’t want anyone to know that I struggled with SGA because I was SO ashamed of who I was – I FELT wrong; I felt like I was a damaged thing that wasn’t worth existing. (I have explained in previous posts how I was suicidal through most of my teenage years - now you know the real reason why…) As I entered counseling and learned to open up to a very select few (my parents, bishops, counselors, etc.), I still kept it hidden from everyone else. I believed that I would change – that God would change me – and so I didn’t want anyone to know what I struggled with because I didn’t want anyone to see me “that way.” I didn’t want them to remember me “that way,” especially after I received this inevitable and miraculous change that Heavenly Father was going to bless me with.... But I still felt damaged and broken. A part of me was still “in the closet.”

Eventually, I realized that what I needed to learn, was that even though I’m “broken,” I’m still okay. I came to the realization that I did not choose to have these feelings – quite the opposite – I feel like I’ve done all I could to change them. I realized that it was the secrecy that was increasing the shame. So, little by little, over the last year, I’ve been telling people, testing the waters, I suppose. I specifically selected a few individuals that I felt would not judge me and would be supportive, which they were – and I will always dearly love them for that.

What they taught me was that it didn’t change the way they saw me – they still loved and accepted me for who I am – even if I felt like I had never really shown “my true self…” They taught me that I’ve never been able to do that for myself – I’ve never been able to accept myself. I mean, how could I when I thought of myself as this damaged, worthless thing that wasn’t worth being changed. So I’m writing this post to open up about what I’ve lived with – struggled with – for almost 30 years.

I was 10 years old; I was in 5th grade and I have a perfectly clear recollection of what initiated these feelings and the exact moment when these feelings started. I have spent SO MANY YEARS asking why. Why me? Why this? Why have I dealt with this for so long now? After years in therapy and counseling I think I can identify what contributed to these feelings of SGA.

To the best of my knowledge it’s the result of mild dysfunctional family patterns and being molested on two different occasions (by two different perpetrators). I held hope for years that if I could find the cause(s) of my SGA then I could change the feelings, but that has not proven to be the case – which is devastating, to say the least. [I should just insert here that I want to be clear that I am only talking about my case; circumstances that are specific to me. I’m not suggesting that everyone who is gay has a cause or contributing factors like mine. I think there are a multitude of possible causes and I think it would be hurtful to someone who is gay to assume that they are only gay as a result of a sexual trauma. I would venture to guess that the majority of people who are gay have not experienced a sexual trauma, so there are other factors and I would never presume to know all of them.]

I suppose I should also admit that my own personality is a factor. As I mentioned above, I have always been very sensitive. I think this has been both a blessing and a weakness, depending on the circumstances. I realized at a very young age that I was “different” in my sensitivity. (This is going to sound totally prideful and I really don’t mean it to sound that way!) I saw patterns that other people my age didn’t see. I felt things about people that other people didn’t feel. I sometimes just knew things about people that I couldn’t explain how I knew – and it was usually something related to emotions. I suppose it’s just empathy, maybe, but I felt like I could readily identify other people’s emotions. I could tell when someone was angry because they were scared versus angry because they had been wronged. (I am an INFJ on the Myers-Briggs personality test, which I feel is pretty accurate for me.) I think that empathy has been a blessing when it comes to dealing with others, but a weakness when it comes to myself because I am not actually empathetic with myself. If anything, I’m over-sensitive to how I think other people see me (especially how I felt my parents interacted with me, but that’s a totally different post!). I actually remember the moment that I felt ashamed of my body. How old do you think I was? A teenager? Starting puberty? Nope. I was six. Six years old. I mean, what six year old boy feels shame about his body?!

I think this also contributed to me feeling like I wasn’t really a man. I saw that society had a very clear definition of what a man was – strong, quiet/stoic, reacts with physicality – not words, non-emotive, and even fearful of effeminate traits. Well, I was more feminine than masculine. I lived in the world of feelings. I couldn’t turn them off. Everything I did was surrounded in a shroud of feeling. Feelings were my compass. I had learned to trust my feelings. But it also meant that I wasn’t really masculine. Well, if I’m biologically male, but have these largely feminine traits, then what am I? More importantly, what was I going to grow up to be? Hence the identity confusion.

I may be wrong because I’m not a social scientist, so please don’t take this as the absolute truth, but as I understand it, sex refers to a biological state; whereas gender is much more of a fluid/dynamic, socially defined set of traits. For example, having one type of sex organ is a sex trait, but being aggressive is a gender trait – which we either label “masculine or feminine.” This is why I prefer the term Same Gender Attraction* (SGA), over Same Sex Attraction (SSA). I’m not just attracted to all men outright – much like any heterosexual person isn’t automatically attracted to EVERYONE of the opposite sex. I’m attracted to certain masculine qualities – ones in particular that I felt were lacking in myself; things like strength, confidence, athleticism, and a host of others.

Someone once asked me if I had ever felt attracted to a woman and the answer is yes – several times, actually. Which could open a discussion for being bi-sexual, but when I feel attracted to women far less often than men, I’m willing to accept the label of being gay over being bi-sexual. But I tried to date women. I allowed myself to be set-up on blind dates. It was always with the hope that I would meet the woman who would change me or who would help make those attractions to men diminish. When it didn’t happen that way ever – I got scared. I ended the relationship with “I’m not ready,” which was totally true, but also only half the story. I couldn’t bear to offend a daughter of God by dragging her through my sh!t. I felt that admitting to SGA would be a huge betrayal or that she might feel like I was lying to her from the beginning – which, I guess I was. I felt it was better to hurt someone by ending a relationship with a vague answer, rather than hurt her with the truth. Which is why I’m currently not dating! It’s such a landmine of emotions that I prefer to avoid it for the time being.

Yes, I would like to be married with a family of my own. But I truly don’t know if that’s an option for me. What scares me is that I’m tired. I’m not saying I’m ready to give up the Gospel and live an “outed” gay lifestyle, but I AM tired of fighting these feelings that I know are wrong. If I did give up the church, I would know exactly what I’m giving up and I’m not ready to do that yet. On the other hand – I’m just tired and I don’t want to fight these feelings anymore. If nothing I’ve done – and nothing God has done – has taken them away, then shouldn’t I just accept that they are a part of me and pursue that lifestyle? I ask myself that question daily. I worry that I’m even writing this as a way of giving myself permission to leave the church and be openly gay – but I don’t think that’s what this is.

I may have my doubts, but I just want to say this – while this may feel like I’m officially coming out of the homosexual closet – what I’m really doing is coming out of another type of closet - the shame closet - and saying, “this is what I struggle with.” I feel gay, even if I don’t act gay. I don’t know if there’s anybody out there dealing with the same thing. I don’t know who might be reading this or whether or not they can relate. I just know that I can’t keep living my life in secret or in shame. If I am going to learn how to love myself, then I need to be open with ALL of who I am.

Ultimately, I can’t control how anyone else will react to this, but I can say this – if this makes anyone uncomfortable – and more specifically, uncomfortable being around me – then just know that I understand. I understand if you don’t want to be friends with me. I understand if you want to stop following me on social media. I understand if you don’t want to associate with me anymore in any way. I don’t plan on changing my lifestyle anytime soon, but I also don’t plan on “hiding” this part of myself, either. In fact, I would go so far as to say, if you don’t like things I post or write about, then please do us both a favor and “unfriend” me ASAP - because neither of us needs that kind of negativity in our lives.

I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know what I might choose down the road, but I can’t consider that. All I have is today. Today I am making an effort to remain faithful to what I personally believe to be true – that God lives; that the Savior's Atonement provides the power to change and that neither the Savior, nor my Father in Heaven, have abandoned me. And that knowledge is as much a part of me as anything else. I am Mormon and I am gay and this is who I am.

*Note: some people use the term Same Sex Attraction (SSA) instead of SGA and they are pretty much interchangeable. In my case, I prefer the term SGA as I feel it better relates to my experience.

Perspective

Was it really just three months ago that I came to St George? How can I be leaving already?! Three months sounds like such a long time – how can it go so quickly?

As I drove into St George it felt so foreign. I had certainly been to St George and/or driven through before, but I didn’t have any connection to anything, so it was always just fleeting associations. But this time, I had to pay attention to everything because I knew I would need to remember how to get around. Far from being intimidating, this is what I love about going to new places – exploring! And I did a lot of exploring! The first few days, I looked at maps and just drove around – I had no idea there were so many suburbs and communities within St George! I don’t really know at what point things became familiar, but over time I started to get a feel for the city. 

I suppose what really had me worried was my work assignment. I knew at the outset that I would only be there for 13 weeks (I eventually extended two weeks, so it ended up being 15 total) and I wondered if the transitory nature of the job would affect whether or not I would fit in. Would people like me? Would they accept me? Would there be a caste system and would I, as a mere “traveler,” be on the bottom? Would they trust me as an SLP? Would they value my insight, when so much of the medical community seems to discount the validity of Speech-Language Pathologists, in general? Would I have to prove my worth to them somehow?

So before I went in on my first day I made a decision: be myself. I decided that worrying about whether or not they accepted me or if I would fit in was pointless and wasted energy. If I was myself and they didn’t like me then I couldn’t do anything about that anyway. At the very least, I would know that I didn’t try to alter myself to please someone else – something that has taken me a lifetime to learn. As I think about those first few days – that period of meeting people and analyzing personalities – I look back and realize something that wasn’t apparent at the time. I think people were more likely to accept me BECAUSE I accepted myself. Accepting myself led me to be honest in my actions, honest in my words, and honest in how I treated others. And I was accepted.

And somehow that acceptance grew into a genuine love for them. Here it is, three months later, and I feel like I’m leaving a family, not just co-workers. There were hugs, tears, gifts, laughter, and promises to keep in touch, but there was also the sense that I had made a home there and that this place – and the people in it – would somehow always be with me. With how busy I was to get everything ready to move back home, it didn’t really catch up to me until I actually drove away.  I had driven to Salt Lake and back several times during my stay there, but this time it hit me that when I went to Salt Lake – I wouldn’t be driving back. I guess perspective is funny that way – how it changes and how it can help you see things you didn’t see before. Perspective made me grateful – grateful for my time in St George, grateful for the people I met, grateful for how they helped me and loved me; grateful for how I changed by being there.

They made a valiant effort to keep me, too! I was honest from the beginning that I wanted to travel and I opted not to accept their offer of full-time employment, but I was so flattered that they would want me to stay. Side note: I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I like praise. If I’m being honest, there’s a very selfish reason I liked being in choirs, marching band and the odd play from time to time – I liked the applause! I suppose wanting to be recognized and admired is a fairly human trait, but for me it means something much deeper. Historically, I saw praise/recognition as an indication of my worth – the more people who recognized/praised me meant I was worth more (more than what, I couldn’t have said, but that’s beside the point…). I think for the first time in my life – that I can recall – I truly appreciated that the praise of the world meant nothing and paled in comparison to the love of these 5-6 people who wanted me to stay. That may not sound like such a big deal, but for me it is, because it’s a shift; a BIG shift - in how I see myself, how I see the world and my place in it. It means a shift in my identity and how I choose to define myself. It’s a realization that praise/recognition has no impact on worth, because worth is inherent – not measured in comparisons or praise.

So I say goodbye to my time in St George and more importantly, goodbye to the man I used to be. To my new St George family, I could never really say goodbye – because they, and what I learned from them, will always be with me. But to them, I say, “Thank you;” thank you for accepting me, for helping me grow. I am better for the time I spent with you and better for the influence you’ve had on me. 

Identity's "I AM"

I had an experience recently that brought up some inner turmoil that I thought I had resolved. As it turns out, I hadn’t resolved it completely. I think I needed to understand myself more deeply and so now, looking back, I am grateful that it happened.

I was at Kinstretch class and thought I was doing better. I felt like I noticed slightly more strength in various ranges of motion, but there was also a problem – the guy next to me. He was new – it was his first time ever at Kinstretch and he’d never done anything like this before. Quite honestly, I wondered why he was there in the first place. He was super thin, but very athletic looking. Because of the mirrors, it’s hard not to notice what everyone else is doing, and what I noticed was that this guy was doing awesome.

He was doing every move perfectly and wasn’t even breaking a sweat. I was only mildly annoyed, but I realized that we’re all different and we all have different abilities. Yeah, of course I was jealous; I wished I had the type of body that I could go into a fitness class I’ve never been in and kill it – without even breaking a sweat. But what finally threw me over the edge was what occurred towards the end of class. 

The instructor demonstrated a move where we had to lean forward against one knee with one leg stretched out behind. I tried to get into position, but couldn’t. My belly fat wouldn’t allow me to get into that position. That’s when I got discouraged and mad. It didn’t help that the guy next to me was, of course, “Gumby” and had no problem getting into position or doing the movement. Even more frustratingly, was that not only could I not do the movement, but I couldn’t even get into a position to do the “regression” or the modified/easier version.

I got mad. I was mad at myself for being so fat that I couldn’t even get into the right position to do the “easier” movement. I suddenly felt so stupid. I felt stupid for thinking I could do this. I felt stupid for being the only one in the class that couldn’t do it. I was embarrassed and ashamed of my body. I was sure that everyone who saw me thought I was a f*cking retard. I just wanted to cry. I just wanted to run. Does it seem like my reaction was maybe a little more intense than the situation warranted? I did too.

Afterward, I thought about why and then it dawned on me. Yes, the situation was difficult, but it was more about what the situation meant. It meant I was different. It meant I wasn’t like everyone else. It meant I didn’t fit in. All my life, all I’ve ever wanted was to blend in; to be unnoticeable; to be just “one of the guys.” And this situation was proof that I didn’t fit in; that I stood out for something negative; that I wasn’t just one of the guys. I was different and being different doesn’t measure up, especially when you’re fat.

It didn’t matter how hard I was working, I was never going to be as fit, healthy, or attractive as the guy next to me. And I hated myself for that. I almost quit that night. In fact, I emailed the instructor and told him that I was too fat to do this and I needed to cancel my membership in the class. When he wrote me back, he told me that I wasn’t giving myself enough credit for the hard work I was doing and he assured me that nobody saw me the way I described myself. The next day I talked to my trainer about my experience and we talked about how important self-love is. I understood what she was saying, but in my mind I kept saying, “that’s bullsh*t.” 

My internal argument went something like this, “telling me that I need to love myself is saying that I need to love being fat and I can’t do that, because I hate it. I hate how being fat feels. I hate what I see in the mirror every day and I hate how being fat limits what I can do. Furthermore, all those thin, skinny, athletic, beautiful people who say you just need to love yourself can say that because they ARE already thin, athletic and beautiful. Of course they love themselves – they are practically perfect!!! If I were that fit and attractive, I would love myself too! I am pretty sure that you take any one of those people and if they woke up one morning 100 pounds overweight, like I am, I am damn sure that they would NOT love themselves. I am positive that they would hate themselves being that way as much as I do. So no, I’m sorry, but ‘loving yourself’ when your fat and disgusting just isn’t possible.”

But how can you tell that to a thin, beautiful, athletic person? How could they possibly understand? They can’t.

This really bothered me. I took some time to think, meditate, ponder and pray about why I was feeling this way and how to change it. (Yes, I know positive affirmations can help; as does changing my self-talk; as does giving myself space to react with a different emotion, etc.) I just couldn’t put my finger on why this was so hard to resolve. I did more journaling and that helped me make a connection that I haven’t ever acknowledged before. In evaluating my “internal argument” I realized that my argument was really based on a very simple math equation:

I am = Fat

Essentially, what I believe is that the condition of my being fat is my identity – it’s who I am; It’s all of who I am and nothing else about me matters. Being fat = who I am. (And all of the negative associations I have with being fat or what “fat” represents!) So when someone says, “you just need to love yourself,” all I hear is, “you just need to love being fat.” How can the solution to someone’s problem be being told that they need to love what they hate about themselves? I can’t do that. I can’t love being fat. I hate how it makes me feel. I hate how it makes me look. I hate how much it limits what I can do. I hate how it destroys my confidence the second I step outside my door. All this time I have been agonizing over how to learn to love being fat (which I can’t do), when I have finally realized that that isn’t even the real issue. The real issue is the belief that being fat is who I am.

No one is just one thing. Just like how our bodies are made up of different organs. Our bodies are not our hearts, but our hearts are part of who we are. Our bodies are not our muscles, but our muscles are part of who we are. The truth is, I am fat. I am overweight. I’m carrying more adipose tissue on my body than is healthy. But that’s not ALL of who I am. It’s only a part. I made a list of what I think the “parts” are that make me up.

I AM MY:
Behaviors
Beliefs
Thoughts
Feelings
Perceptions/Senses
Memories
Character traits
Strengths/weaknesses
Body
Spirit

Taken alone, I am not any one of these things; and yet, each one of these things are a part of me. My problem isn’t acknowledging that I’m fat. My problem is thinking that that’s the only thing that matters. Or that “that’s just who I am.”

My Kinstretch instructor was right. I wasn’t giving myself enough credit for all the hard work I am doing in class, because I can’t see that determination and a desire to improve are as much a part of me as being fat. I can’t appreciate the courage it takes to be fat and yet pursue health and fitness – knowing that I’m going to come face to face with people I’m jealous of, and people I’m likely to compare myself to (i.e., my “little-blue-shorts-guy” post…).

The other problem that I had never seen before is – if I do believe that who I am is fat, then who am I without it? That’s a real identity crisis and completely contradictory to my goals. If I am fat, but then I’m trying to lose fat, then I’m losing my identity. If who I am is fat, then I need to be fat in order to be who I am. Is it possible that, in spite of the last 9 months of diet and exercise, I haven’t lost any weight because deep down I’ve been afraid of losing myself?

I think I’ve fundamentally misunderstood the statement I AM as well. To me, that statement is permanent. If I AM something then I have to be that something all the time. For example, if I AM fat, then I have to be fat ALL the time, because that’s who I am!! I think that’s why I can’t say positive things about myself like, “I am smart,” because I’m not always smart – sometimes I do really stupid things!! I can’t say, “I am strong,” because sometimes I’m really weak – physically and spiritually. It doesn’t feel honest to say that I am something, when I’m not that something all the time. But on the other hand, it also means I don’t give myself credit for being those things sometimes. Is there a way to reconcile all of this? Is there a way to say that I am something positive, while acknowledging that I’m not that way ALL the time? I don’t know. I hope so.

I think it may have to do with seeing ourselves completely. Meaning, acknowledging the good and the bad. I think it means acceptance of all of who we are, knowing that we all have various traits that could be "good" or "bad" depending on how we use them. Maybe it just means accepting that we are human and that each of us is constantly evolving. Maybe my self talk needs to be that I question myself and ask, "is this one thing all of who I am? If not, what else am I in this moment? Or, is this one thing something I like about myself, or do I want to change it?"

For example, the next time I'm at Kinstretch and I can't do a move, I can acknowledge it and ask myself, "okay, I can't do this move; is my inability to do this move - due to being fat/inflexible - all of who I am? Is this something that I want to improve? Then I can try to find a way to approximate the move, or I can ask the instructor what other options I can try." It doesn't mean I have to give up. It doesn't mean the being fat is a barrier I'll never be able to cross. It doesn't mean that being fat is all of who I am; nor does it mean that who I am is worthless, or stupid, or any other unkind label I can come up with.

It feels to me like there are different types of acceptance:
1) acceptance can mean something is permanent and unchangeable. "This is the way it is." e.g., "I just have to accept that I'm fat and I always will be."
2) acceptance can also mean something is the way it is - for now. e.g., "I just have to accept that I am fat for now, but I don't have to always be this way."
3) acceptance of uncertainty (is this faith?). "I just have to accept that I am fat for now, and maybe I always will be even though that's not what I want, but even if I am, I still know that I'm okay." Or, "I accept that I may always be fat, because being fat is not all of who I am."

What do you think? How do you define yourself? What is your identity based on?

Fat-Guy-Working-Out-At-The-Gym Troubles

I need to acknowledge something here, right up front – I’m not psychic. Surprise! Okay, just kidding, but really, I need to acknowledge that I have no idea what other people are thinking, or what motivates them, or what their intent might be. It’s important that I point this out now, because of what I want to say. So with that understood, read on…

I went to the gym tonight. When I’m not working out with my trainer, I usually go late (like, 9:30pm/10:00pm-ish) because there are fewer people there and I don’t have to wait for equipment. Which is only mostly true. The actual truth is, fewer people means fewer eyes to watch me as I awkwardly lumber through my workout like a blind walrus. (I know that’s not a thing, but the imagery really sells it, ya know?)

Anyway, there was only one other guy in the “Peak Performance” room (which is like the Crossfit part of the gym) and I’d seen him before, so that wasn’t too bad. I was getting my groove on like an Emperor and the other guy eventually left. I was about halfway through my workout at this point and loving the fact that I had the whole room to myself! Well, that didn’t last very long.

Not long after, a guy came in that I didn’t know, but I had just seen him playing volleyball with a bunch of other people on the indoor courts. He stood out to me because he was wearing a “snug,” bright green tank top and little blue volleyball shorts and “working it,” if you know what I mean. Anyway, he comes in and I did my best to ignore him. Which became increasingly hard to do because he was doing some pretty impressive stuff – twisting medicine ball lunges, speed drills, box jumps, all kinds of weird sit ups, etc. It was pretty obvious that the guy didn’t just look good, but had the goods – like, super athletic. You know what? Good for him.

Whatever.

And now I’m just annoyed.

Not only am I nowhere near his level of conditioning on my best day, I’m totally wearing out because I’m getting to the end of my work out and the stuff I’m doing is barely more movement than the Walking Dead zombies. And yes, I’m man enough to admit that I couldn’t help but steal some glances. Enough to notice that he was looking up every so often to make sure I was noticing how awesome he was. And the whole time I just kept thinking, “yes, snug-tank-top-little-blue-shorts-guy, everyone sees you; everyone can see how athletic and awesome you are; congratulations on how awesome you look and how you can out-perform me on every level; yes, we can all see how impressive you are and how amazing you are at having one foot balanced on a swiss ball, while you’re in a plank position and swinging your leg out to the side which takes an inordinate amount of strength, control and agility; okay, we get it, you’re like, super hot and amazing. Congratulations – to you.”

I was annoyed because one, I would love to have that kind of agility and conditioning – so I was totally jealous, and two, because he was totally showing off and looking up to make sure I was seeing how impressive he was. Cocky little "fitness model" bastard!!

That was about the time I had a realization.

I wasn’t reacting to him based on his behavior – I was reacting to him based on my insecurities.

It dawned on me that I have no idea whether or not he was “showing off.” Is it possible he was? Of course it’s possible! (I mean not everyone wears little blue volleyball shorts to the gym, but then again, he had actually been playing volleyball!!) Is it possible that he wasn’t showing off or that maybe he was doing that workout because that’s just the level that he’s at? Of course it’s possible! That’s my point – I don’t know.

I was jealous. It was easy for me to believe that he was looking down on me, but the reality is, I was looking down on myself. I was the one choosing to believe that he thought he was better than me when he hadn’t done or said anything to indicate that he felt that way. I was the one who was choosing to believe that he was better than me because he was more physically capable than me. I was the one making a comparison. I was the one measuring worth on outward appearances and physical attributes. It made me wonder how I would have acted toward him, had we actually interacted. It made me wonder how often I react to other people that way.

I don’t recall if this is something anyone has studied, so I’ll just make up some stats. I’m guessing, from my own experience, that roughly 80% of the time, I’m not reacting to other people’s behavior, but I’m reacting according to my perception of other people’s behavior. Maybe roughly 20% of the time I’m reacting to their actual behavior, but I don’t have any research to back that up.

Some of the take-aways for me are:
– We only see people at one point in time – I don’t know anything about this guy; maybe he’s worked really hard to get where he is and he’s not showing off, but just enjoying the fact that he’s improved himself, or he really likes challenging himself.

– We don’t really ever know what’s in someone’s head or heart and we shouldn’t treat them like we do.

– Maybe look at my jealousy as a way of identifying goals – maybe I’m jealous because I’d like to be that athletic someday too. (Or wait!! It just occurred to me - maybe I just want to look good in a snug tank top and little blue shorts too?! Hahaha!)

– Be more grateful for where I’m at and what I can do. This one’s hard for me. It’s hard to see someone else at a level that I want to be and yet be okay with where I’m at. But the truth is, I have improved. No, I’m not anywhere near where I want to be, but it is pretty cool that in nine months I’ve gone from deadlifting 35lb kettle bells to 180lbs with a bar and plates.

And lastly,
– I guess I still have some self-esteem work to do!

But I am grateful. I’m grateful that I’m in a place in my life where I can finally see how self-destructive my beliefs and habits have been and that I can see them for what they are. That’s doesn’t automatically translate into instant change, but at least it helps me see what I need to be working on and that’s half the battle right there.

Finally, and I’m sure he’ll never read this, but my apologies to snug-tank-top-little-blue-shorts guy. I’m sorry I accused you of being arrogant and condescending when I don’t know anything about you. It would actually be cool if we could be friends, then maybe I could be inspired by you instead of ostracizing myself.

Just another one of those fat-guy-working-out-at-the-gym troubles!

Singing and resolutions

I've been contemplating taking voice lessons for a while now. Actually, I've always wanted to, but never seemed to have the time or the money. But I think I've decided, like most self-improvement related matters, they don't just happen on their own. And if not now, when? Well, apparently I was a few months too late. I was "roped" into singing in church for our Christmas program. It wasn't a big deal - just one verse of "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day", but still, I lack a lot of confidence when it comes to singing in public. I was so nervous - my heart was racing; but it all went down okay and I feel like I did well enough not to worry about it anymore. It was also very good motivation to really get serious about taking voice lessons. I think I like singing enough that I would probably actually volunteer sometimes... maybe.

Different topic: New Year's Resolutions. I don't actually believe in them anymore. I've decided that what I do believe in are Resolutions to make a New Year. What I mean is, that it doesn't matter what time of year it is, if you have something in your life you want to change, make a resolution to change it. It doesn't have to be January 1st. What do February 10th, July 16th, and October 2nd all have in common? Nothing. But they work just as good as January 1 for deciding to make a change. Just make sure your resolution to change is the result of self-acceptance, not a feeling of being deficient in some way! (See previous post.)

End of the semester updates

I'll jump right in to the updates:

It's been a month since I posted and I'm happy to say I've pretty much avoided all forms of Cheetoes!

I just finished up the semester a week ago. This means I have one semester left before I graduate. (I can't believe I'm typing these words!) My spring semester consists of one half-semester class (Cleft-Palate) and two 10-week externships. Then I'll graduate and start looking for jobs! Woohoo!

I know people are terrified of the externship experience - this is where we go out into the real world and, for the first week or so, observe a nationally certified Speech-Language Pathologist (SLP), then, for the next nine weeks, we step in. We are 100% observed by our externship supervisor, but we are the one in the driver's seat when it comes to providing assessment/therapy. This is a big deal. This is the "real world" experience and many of us doubt whether or not we are up to the challenge.

Oddly enough, I don't feel that way. I am so freaking excited to start. I have no illusions about how I'll do - I'm going to mess some things up and make some mistakes. But my school-clinic experience has taught me many things - one of which, is that I'm capable. I know I don't know everything, but I feel capable of learning what I need to know. I think the other reason I'm not scared is because of the previous 12 years I spent in jobs (both very good jobs!) that weren't right for me. I was miserable and dreaded waking up in the morning. Now, when I think about what I'll be doing, I feel excited to wake up and I can't wait to see who I'm going to meet, what challenge I'll be presented with and, more selfishly, what I have to learn from the people I meet. (Thus far, I've learned from every client I've worked with and they have benefitted my life immensely.)

So that's where I'm at peeps - on the verge of growing up. It hasn't been easy. I've probably said this before and I'm quite sure I'll say it again, but this Graduate School experience has been a crucible for me because it has impacted me intellectually, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I don't know that I could really ever ennumerate or even explain all of the things I've learned, but I know the person I am now is not the same person I was two years ago when I started the program. I have a lot of the same challenges as ever, but I deal with them differently because I see myself differently. The fact that I can type the words "...I'm capable..." without a hesitiation (you'll just have to take my word for it that I didn't hesitate when I typed it!) is proof that I am different now.

I'll just mention briefly (if that's possible for me!) one of the things I've been working on lately: Self-acceptance and change. These are known as Dialectical Tensions and they are one of the many paradoxes at play within each of us individually and in our interpersonal relationships (thank you Bachelor's degree!). These two concepts seem to be at odds with each other - why change what you accept and how do you accept something you want to change - but in reality, both are necessary. It's easy for me to look in the mirror and see a need for change. This is due to my making a value judgment about myself, whether physical or otherwise, and seeing myself as "not measuring up" in some way. "I'm not athletic and fit, so I'm not as attractive, or desireable, as other men." In this case, change for me is necessary because I NEED to change in order to meet some imagined criterea to feel worth. This is wrong. I don't know how else to say it as plainly; it's just wrong.

What I really "need" is acceptance. I can't even begin to tell you how hard it is to work on acceptance when all my life I've been telling myself I'm not good enough. Then again, maybe I don't have to tell some of you out there - maybe you know just what I mean... In any case, acceptance means that I change the messages I give to myself. Instead of not measuring up, I say that "I am 'me' for a reason. I wasn't meant to be like anyone else and my unique combination of strengths and weaknesses is okay. It's okay just being me." (p.s., that last sentence actually came from Elder Hales in a message he shared in my single's ward years ago... I'm grateful I never forgot it...)

As for the paradox? It is only when I truly accept myself that I give myself the freedom to change. Because once I accept myself, I find that I WANT to change in order to live a more fulfilled life, and not that I HAVE to change in order to measure up. Wanting to change because you love yourself is so much different from feeling you need to change because you think you are deficient in some way. And that's just it - it's all about what you choose to think of yourself. I'm choosing to think differently and no, just because I can sum it up in a few paragraphs, doesn't mean the process is easy. It's not easy. It's "f-ing" hard actually. (Pardon my language.) But it's also the only way to finding true happiness and living joyfully and with purpose.

If only...

I've often had the "if only I had _____, then I would be happy" daydream. (FYI - it starts as a daydream and quickly becomes a cage.) I realized this Sunday that it's not the conditions of my life that I am unhappy with - it's me. I'm unhappy with me, and therefore, unhappy with my life.

I suppose that's why I hear about people who are thin and attractive or rich and famous, who seem to have it all and still commit suicide (part of this train of thought was influenced by the somewhat recent death of Tony Scott). How does someone who seemly has everything become so depressed that they commit suicide? I'm sure there are various reasons, but I know for some, it's just that they never learned to be happy with themselves.

My realization is also spurred by my trip to San Diego. Part of my purpose was to see if I liked it there enough that it might be some place I want to live after I graduate. I wondered, "can I move to a new town that is unfamiliar to me and be okay?" Well, the answer I received as I was driving home was that it doesn't really matter where I am - it only matters who I am. If I am unhappy with myself here in Salt Lake, I'll be unhappy with myself in San Diego or any other part of the country; location doesn't matter. When my mom asked me if it's some place I'd like to live I thought, sure, but really I can live anywhere. No matter where I am, if I'm happy with myself, then I'm happy with my life - no matter the conditions.

I'm sorry if this seems like another "I hate myself" kind of post, but I don't mean it to sound that way at all. In fact, just the opposite. I feel freer now that I 've recognized this. Because I can't always change my circumstances, but I can always change myself. All my life I've been waiting for the conditions of my life to improve ("if only I had ___"), when really I needed to just improve myself. And by improving myself I mean learning my worth and being comfortable in my own skin. The conditions of life will always come secondary to the conditions within myself and that is something I can do something about!

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

A typical morning:
I wake up suddenly. My heart begins to race. Panicky, I ask myself, "what day is it? What time is it? Am I late for something? What do I have going on today? School? Work? Clients?" These questions race through my mind and once I answer them, I realize that I haven't been breathing, so I take a deep breath. I feel my heart pounding and I'm not sure what I'm so anxious about...

That's just a small sample of what it's like to wake up afraid; I suppose I mean that's a sample of what it's like to live afraid, because it's not unsual for these feelings to recurr throughout the day in any number of circumstances.

One question I have been pondering for weeks, if not months, is "what am I afraid of?" What fears are so prevalent in my life that they are with me from the instant I wake up each day?

Then it occurred to me, the reason I've been asking this question for months and not coming up with an answer is becuase what I'm afriad of is - everything and nothing. How do I explain?

One of my biggest fears is that I am afraid of what other people may think about me. So, essentially, I'm afraid of other people's thoughts. That's ridiculous. I know - even as I type this I see how illogical it is to be afraid of what other people are thinking, and yet, the fear I experience is absolutely real - just ask my racing thoughts and beating heart... that has to come from somewhere, right? There's another flaw in this line of thinking - how do I know what other people are thinking? A-HA! That's the key - I DON'T know what other people are thinking - I can't possibly know what other people are thinking. So in reality, my fear is only what I THINK other people are thinking. When I think other people are condemning me, that's coming from within me. When I think other people are looking at me and looking down on me because of my weight, or anything else, that's coming from within me.

Now, to be fair to myself, I WAS actually made fun of quite a lot when I was a child - so there IS a foundation from my own experience in this fear; kids are a lot more vocal about what they're thinking. So I think a part of me has just assumed that whatever it is in other people that makes them want to make fun of me, never really went away, it just went "non-verbal," i.e., stays within their thoughts. Okay, let's assume that's true. Let's say my fears are founded and people really are thinking poorly of me, judging me, condemning me, etc. Why should that make me afraid?

The answer is - disapproval eats right to the center of my deepest fear which is that I'm not good enough; that I don't "measure" up; that I'm inadequate; that I am worthless. When I disappoint someone by not being perfect, when I sense that someone is judging me for my weight/appearance, etc., these things CONFIRM my fear of being inadequate. So that every day, at every turn, I'm afraid that my worthlessness will be confirmed. No wonder I wake up afraid! No wonder I go through life exepcting to fail! No wonder I go through life feeling sorry for myself (this is the fear/self-pity connection). I feel sorry for myself because I expect people will confirm what I fear or what I already believe. Therein lies the problem. I believe it. I'M the one who believes I'm worthless and inadequate. Those fears that I'm projecting on to others (as if I could somehow psychicly channel other people's thoughts) are really coming from within myself.

I've been pausing here for the last 10 minutes after writing the previous paragraph, letting it sink in. And I'm laughing to myself because all I can think if is a line from one of my favorite movies, How Do You Know?. It's Jack Nicholson's character and he says emphatically to his son, "You are a f***ing moron!" (Okay, I know that's not appropriate, but you're just going to have to trust me that it's hilarious the way he does it!)

But's that's how I feel right now - that I'm an "effing" moron!! It's like someone being afraid of bubble gum - it makes no sense! Why am I SO afraid of other people's condemnation?! I guess it's because I've never really known my own worth. I never really believed that I am important. Since I didn't believe in myself, I learned to put more stock on other people's opinion's over my own. I've basically left it up to other people to decide my worth, but the problem is, as I've already stated, I can't really know what people are thinking, so it's really just my own inadequacies I see "reflected" from others.

Sorry this post is so long... I haven't even gotten to the black and white part yet. That will have to wait for another day; introspection takes its toll and I'm kind of burned out at the moment...

Does any of this make sense, or should I be on medication? :)