I Am Not Ashamed

Being more than a little interested in marriage equality articles means I come into contact with a great deal of negativity every day. From the concerned folks who worry about homosexuals and the future well-being of our souls, to those who think we are paedophiles, monsters and/or bound for Hell, it all boils down to one thing; being gay is not okay and is at best something worthy of sympathy.

After a while it starts to get you down. How can so many people, often well-meaning and intelligent, be so negative about something that they don't even seem to understand? How can they cast judgement so readily over something so unworthy of that judgement?

Well I reject this viewpoint. I reject it with every part of my being. My sexuality isn't something I look for acceptance of. It's not something I look for tolerance of. It's something I embrace, celebrate and enjoy. It's a positive in my life, a piece of untainted joy. Jim sometimes says I'm a bit too focussed on gay issues but that's because gay issues excite me in the way Star Wars, dinosaurs and history excite me. They are all something I love and find rewarding.

I remember when I was just coming to terms with my sexuality, desperately ashamed due to my then ongoing fling with Christianity. I remember the day I first saw a boy who made that shame just disappear. His beauty was so intoxicating I couldn't even think of disliking how I was feeling. I knew then that my sexuality wasn't something that was going wrong with me, that needed to be fixed, but something that was a good thing.

The strange thing is that often people seem to just equate homosexuality with lust. I didn't feel lust towards my first crush. He was too beautiful for that. And I don't just fall in love with men because of their looks. I fall in love with who they are as men. Their personality and their character are far more important to me than looks and love is far more important to me than sex (not to say I didn't mess around a little as a teen, as you Dear Constant Reader know only too well!).

I love men, and I'm not ashamed to say it. I love their looks. I love their voices. I love how they think. I love how they act. There's nothing, not a single thing, wrong with that.

I refuse to allow people to tell me what my sexuality is and how I'd be better off conforming to what they want for me. I'm not going to repent for something that needs no repentance. I'm not going to apologise for something that needs no apology. And I'm not going to reject something that brings me happiness every single day through the man I love.

When I think of a life without Jim, I feel myself die a little inside. For the last year and a bit he's had some very serious health problems and it's really made me think about the unthinkable and it was not a happy time. My love for him is no less, NO LESS, than anyone else's love for somebody. To suggest otherwise is to tilt at windmills and to delude yourself.

Every time I read another comment like those on here, I'll remember that unlike them I'm on the side of love. And woe betide anyone who thinks they can tell me differently.

I'm here, I'm queer and I'm not going anywhere (unless there's chocolate, in which case I'm yours).

If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist

Oh To Have The Comfort And Certainty Of Faith

Spring has well and truly sprung, birds are singing in trees and our resident gulls, Gary and Glenda, have set their nest up again and have begun raising another family of chicks. It's at times like this that memories of my years as a Wiccan come to the fore.

There's something about the vibrancy of nature at this time of year that makes me very nostalgic for the feelings I had as a "believer". The comfort of believing in a higher power, the oneness of "creation", is a heady drug.

My fascination with religion in general has always persisted even after I lost my beliefs but I often have very mixed emotions when encountering the religious. One side of me feels deeply sorry for them, as I have no doubts that even if there was a God the chances they've chosen to worship the right one/pantheon are minimal, whilst the other half feels deeply jealous of them. To be able to lessen the minor and major pains in life even just a little, thanks to your belief that it'll all pale into insignificance compared to the glories of your afterlife future, would be extremely welcome.

The certainty of believers of all stripes must be a relief too. The truth of non-belief is cold and uncertain. I do not claim to know if there is or is not a God. But my logical mind suggests there is not. It certainly does not see how any of the religions on display in our world today could be the "One True Religion" that they all claim to be.

I can see why it can be so difficult to give up on faith, even if you flit between denominations and religions in a desperate search to find the "Truth". I long to return to the warm embrace of thoughtless belief and devotion to a pantheon of Gods who I once adored.

Being sceptical and independently minded has it's benefits. But certainty and comfort are not among them. I find myself drawn more and more towards absurdism and I think Albert Camus sums up my feelings well:

I don’t know whether this world has a meaning that transcends it. But I know that I cannot know that meaning and that it is impossible for me just now to know it. What can a meaning outside my condition mean to me? I can understand only in human terms. What I touch, what resists me — that I understand. And these two certainties — my appetite for the absolute and for unity and the impossibility of reducing this world to a rational and reasonable principle — I also know that I cannot reconcile them. What other truth can I admit without lying, without bringing in a hope I lack and which means nothing within the limits of my conditions?

If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist

Articles Of Faith

God, I wish I believed in God. I think, after a few years out of religion, I've come to the realisation that belief is something that makes life a lot easier. That's not a statement in support of it, of course, nor am I in anyway suggesting it makes belief any more honest. But faith does have some upsides.

As you should know, Dear Constant Reader, I'm a former Christian and a former pagan (Wiccan mainly). When you're feeling down as an atheist you actually have to get off your bum and do something to change things. No good sitting there praying or wishing for change. That won't do anything. But when you have faith, that praying or wishing for things gives you a, fake, sense of control over a situation. "Oh God, please deliver me from this evil" etc. helps you sleep at night.

As you may be aware, I've been feeling a little down of late. No one reason, just a general case of Black Dog. And it got me nostalgic for my pagan faith where I might have tried spellcasting or praying in order to see me through to better times. I remember the reassuring warmth that would come over me, "knowing" the Gods would see me through. I look back upon those times with a sense of longing for those feelings again, feelings I know to be fake and useless, and at the same time I look back with disgust at my stupidity.

It's weird, but sometimes I forget how powerful those feelings were and perhaps that makes it difficult for me to be sympathetic to the religious. I've walked in their shoes, and I should be a little more forgiving when they suggest bombing Iran to start the end of the world or they start stoning adulterers.

Nah... maybe not. Wake up fools!

If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist