Two weeks ago, the Elders Quorum in my ward held it's monthly game night. This is an activity that our quorum started doing several months ago. This was my second time going to the activity, and I had a great time. It was a room of guys playing a geeky space conquest board game while eating junk food on a Saturday night.
No big deal, right?
For the other men there that night it may have been just a regular night out with other guys, but for me it meant a bit more. You see, I was the only (openly and known) gay man there that night, and it was the first time in my life that I walked into a social situation with straight guys and felt comfortable and like I was part of the group.
32 years old, and I was finally able to experience that connection.
I didn't realize it or think about it until after the night had ended and I had returned home. I went into the bedroom, and when Emma woke up I talked to her about how the evening went. I apologized to her because I had come home over an hour-and-a-half after the time I had told her I'd be home. She was gracious and happy that I had a good evening.
I told her about the evening and how I had really enjoyed myself. It was then that the realization hit me that never once did I feel trepidation, awkwardness, fear, or anxiety of any kind throughout the entire night. I had genuinely enjoyed myself. You know those rare moments in life where you find yourself enjoying the moment without any strings attached to it? Where you experience a moment of genuine mindfulness? This was one of those moments.
This was a major step for me, because up until this point I had always held a level of these feelings when I was around other men, straight or gay. I was always afraid around other men. Thanks to the many gay men I have come to know and befriend over the past couple years the fear I harbored toward other gay men has been worked through. I have been so blessed to create strong friendships with other gay men who are the most amazing people. We love, respect, and honor each other and our journeys where ever they may lead us. However, the feelings of fear and disconnect I have experienced with (and still do with some) straight men has taken longer to work through.
In my childhood I knew there was something different about me from a very young age. I remember noticing a distinct difference in myself from other boys. I was more sensitive. I liked different things. I played different games. I wasn't aggressive, and I didn't like the rough and tumble type of games other boys played. Don't get me wrong, I was a scrapper and could throw an elbow or tackle like any other boy, but I just didn't want to very often. I did not have an interest in sports whether that was playing them or watching them. I remember my parents putting me in flag football when I was 6 or 7 and being SO confused at what the coach would ask me to do or how to play the game. I was the boy who stood there completely confused in the chaos of 6/7 year-old boys trying to play football with the expression that shows I clearly have no idea what is going on nor do I have any idea how I ended up on the field in the first place.
When I was 3 I signed up for dance lessons. By the age of 6 I was dancing and singing competitively. I absolutely loved it. The stage was one of my greatest loves when I was young. It still is. I may not be performing these days, but when I go into a theater or watch a performance I can't help but imagine what is happening backstage and the hours and hours of work it took to make the performance I'm watching happen. There was nothing tedious or monotonous about rehearsals to me. Auditions were terrifying but thrilling. I loved every part of putting together a show for the stage. How I feel about the performing arts is how other men feel about sports.
It was in first grade at the age of 7 that I remember being singled out by other boys for my divergent interests. You see, because I was in dance many of my early friends were girls. Upon entering school in Kindergarten all of my friends were girls since they were the ones I knew form dance class. The other boys took notice of this and when they found out I danced and sang that was basically the death of any social standing I had with other boys.
Cue the name calling, bullying, and shunning from the other boys that would continue to my adult years.
In fourth grade while getting my things from the coat room to go home for the Christmas break two boys approached me. One of them grabbed me by the shoulders and threw his knee into my groin, which resulted in terrible pain shooting up through my torso. He then said, "That shouldn’t hurt, right? You don't have anything to hurt down there." Then they walked away laughing. I refused to show any sign of pain, because to do so would have resulted in more bullying. I refused to talk about it or tell anyone, because to do so would result in worse bullying. I walked home in pain that day, but the greatest pain was the level of rejection I had experienced.
I still remember sitting in my apartment in college and overhearing a roommate and a guy from the apartment next door standing outside our door making derisive and derogatory comments about me that included assumptions about my sexual orientation and other aspects of my person.
These are just two experiences of an endless list.
I did not have good relations with other boys growing up nor with other men in my young adult life. I resented and feared them, and longed to be friends with them all at the same time.
It wasn't that I didn't spend my life associating with or even being surrounded by other males. I was one of 5 boys in my family, participated in Boy Scouts of America, was on the wrestling team in high school, was active in the Young Men's program in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, had male companions in my mission, and the list could go on. I had many male influences in my life. The problem was that I didn't fit the mold or narrative that was being put on me by all these male influences. I could not connect to them.
My earliest memories of shame and fear are associated with boys and men. How could they not be? I was shamed from an early age by them. I was mercilessly bullied by them even to the point of physical harm. All because I was "different."
Over the past couple years, as I've served, worked, and played with other men I have found myself healing from the deep wounds of my early life. I have ministered alongside and to other men. I have served in callings in the Church that have had me work closely with other men. These men are kind, gentle, loving, compassionate souls. I am honored to know them. I consider them all good friends and I thank God for their friendship.
So, what was probably just a regular night playing games with the other guys for the others in attendance that night was a major milestone in my life. I experienced added healing from wounds I have carried from my early childhood. They have shown me the kindness and acceptance I did not experience as a child, youth, and young adult. I have experience brotherly love and comradeship.
That night I talked, joked, laughed, and played as one of the guys. There was no judgement, no awkwardness, no condescension, no patronizing, no questioning of my presence there. I consider the men there as good friends of mine. I trust them. I feel safe with them. I consider them brothers in Christ, and I know that they would be there for me and my family any time of the day or night. I cannot express my gratitude to God for this incredible blessing of male friendship.
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