Point proved.

I am bisexual.  Being with a man does not make me straight.  Just because I have a male sex partner, my sexual orientation does not “default” back to straight.  Sexual orientation does not go away because of who you are having sex with.  Virgins can know what their sexual orientation is without having sampled.  People who are practicing celibacy have a sexual orientation, even if they are not boning.

When I was married to a woman for more than a decade, I did identify as lesbian, for several reasons…

1. It was easier.  When you are in a female-female relationship and people know you are bisexual, people decide that you don’t have boundaries and you get invited into three-ways all the time because you’re bisexual.  It’s exhausting (the constant asking, not the three-ways per se).
2. My sexual identity was evolving; although I had female lovers before I hadn’t been in a committed, romantic relationship with a woman.   I felt that the “label” of lesbian was true at that time.  Over time I realized that I am bi and because that declaration strained my relationship, I kept it to myself.  (Sort of, my best friend would sometimes say, “No you’re not, when I would call myself a lesbian.”)

So, when you are bi (or maybe just when you are me…) people tell you stuff.  I used to run an all women’s professional networking group and I can’t count the amount of times that women told me that they had a lesbian relationship but were with a man now, that they were bi but they kept it under wraps because they were with a man now and it would make it complicated.  And they are right, being honest and open with a partner about sexuality gets complicated.  And having sexual experimentation with people of different genders doesn’t necessarily make you bi.  It makes you curious, or perhaps in college (jk).

Oh and the bisexual men, I know so many bi men but, I think it’s harder (heh) for them because their masculinity gets questioned.  So, they have to keep so much on the down low.  Guys don’t get let off as easily as girls with just being called a “slut,” at least we’re still women.  Bi guys  aren’t  considered “real” men by the straight community if they’re “out” and the gay community doubts them for the same reasons they doubts bi women.  I’ve noticed it particularly difficult for bi men that are married to a woman.

It’s hard to have “bisexual” as a declared sexual orientation.  Many straight people think you are “undecided”, haven’t had the right dick yet, or are just plain slutty and will take anybody to bed.  Being bisexual is like being the political Green party of the Kinsey scale.  You are what you are, but you don’t get a lot of credibility.

I was at a party a long time ago and I was talking about the LGBT acronym.  I said I think that people are more comfortable with the LG part of the acronym than the BT part.  Then someone asked me if the BT stood for bacon and tomato, to her credit, she was drunk.

I went through a queer identity crisis after my divorce.  It’s hard to be bisexual in the queer world, because I don’t always feel like I belong.  Because of my male partner, I now get “straight privilege” and I think that is hard for a lot of gay people.  Being Bi and having a male partner is  getting off easy politically in that I now don’t have to justify my love to the world on a daily basis.  Some days I can just “pass” for straight and I have some guilt around that.  I understand what is meant by passing and straight privilege, but saying I understand sounds weak from this side of the conversation.  I was married to a woman for 11.5 years; I get what they are saying.  But it seemed like some people thought  that I had taken the easy way out or that my marriage didn’t work because I’m bi and she’s gay.  It didn’t work for a lot of the same reasons straight marriages don’t work.

It’s hard feeling like you don’t belong to a family anymore.  I know that feeling in a lot of ways.  When I am at a gay event, I feel like I have to supply my gay resume so that I can be taken more seriously.  And that is much more my issue than theirs.  Many people don’t care and I love that.

I went to a party of all bisexual women here in the South.  I was amazed by the diversity.  In California, a lot of the diversity is because of race.  Here, many of them had religious diversity:  Bi Baptists, bi Southern Baptists, bi Methodists etc. I had never been in a grouping like this and it kind of rocked my paradigm.  Many of these women were closeted because they can lose their jobs, social standing in their church and their marriages.  It seemed like their stakes were higher in coming out.

In a lot of ways, I think that being bi means you are in the middle.  Not really part of the straight world, not really part of the gay world.  It’s complicated.  I wish it was easier for bi people to come out.  There are so many more queer people in this world than people realize, I think that out bi people could help change that.  But it’s never as easy as it sounds.

Since I am on the subject,  Being bi:

1. Does not mean that I’ve been waiting to experiment with you and your husband I have never met.
2. Does not mean that I’m a slut.  (I mean, I’ve had my moments where I’ve been very popular.  But many straight and gay people do too.)
3. Does not mean that I haven’t chosen which side of the fence to be on.  I am not straddling a fence, because I think that would give me splinters.  And I know that I am what I am.  Grey is an option in this black and white world.
4. Does not go away now that I am with a man.
5. Does not mean that gay is a choice and does not dilute the gay rights movement.
6. Means that I love and am attracted to different gender expressions.  I am committed to and am in love with one person right now.
7. Gender-schmender…  It’s not something that disqualifies someone for me.  I want to know your sexy brain.  I don’t care what’s in your pants.  I’m not trying to get there and I let the energy and connection go where they go.  (Within the boundaries and agreements of my relationship.)
8. I can be monogamous.  I’m not sold on monogamy being a perfect system, lots of people struggle with it, I’ve noticed.  But my relationship is monogamous and it’s not a problem.
9. Sure people turn my head and I don’t shut down attraction, nor would I want my fiancé to.  I feel that leads to repression which generally has bad consequences.  People are hot and that’s cool, it doesn’t mean that I need to take an action.

I want everyone in the world to have their authentic journey of love and self discovery.  I hate that there are social and political ramifications for some peoples’ paths.

Just something I had to get off my chest, thanks for listening.

First of all, I would like to explain what I mean by patriarchal system.  I think the social patriarchal system is created by men and women.  This system is so old, many men have no role models to look to when trying to establish an emotional vocabulary and fully express themselves.  So many men have been trained that the only acceptable feeling is anger.  So many men have been taught that they need to keep people in line.

Women have a part in it too, this is a system.  So many women have been taught to tear each other down and nitpick to get ahead socially and professionally.  Women have been taught to be quiet in order to keep peace and to define themselves by their relationships.

The system is self perpetuating.  But there are also people that actively buy into it and battle to continue it.  The whore wars over birth control are a great current example.

In his book, “Becoming the Kind Father: A Son’s Journey” Calvin Sandborn says, “Patriarchy demanded that people sacrifice important parts of themselves.  Women were forced to sacrifice their strength and autonomy – any woman who dared to show such “masculine” characteristics were promptly condemned as a “shrew”, “bitch”, “nag”, “witch” or castrator.  Conversely, men showing such a “feminine” characteristic was condemned as a “sissy”, “wimp”, “wuss”, “pussy”.

Over the centuries, a profound human tragedy occurred.  Men and women were cut in half.  Women lost their voices – and men lost their hearts.”

So although the patriarchy is an obsolete social system, it is perpetuated by some (male and female) and fought by others (male and female).

But I think it started from the religious patriarchal dogmas.  I’ll talk about that next time.

Hello blank page.

(Still sitting waiting for the page to respond.  And it doesn’t.  Guess it’s up to the “writer” to write.)

Ok…

I never thought of myself as a writer.  The only er I’ve ever been is a dancer.  Well, that’s not true.  I’ve been a daughter.  I don’t know if that counts.  Writing is scary, I am not grammatically correct.  I use too many commas.  I say “so” too much.  I’ve seen blog posts that I’ve written where every paragraph starts with “So”.  My father is an English teacher and so I think that makes me extra, super critical of my writing process and product.  Just like that old block, I am chipped.

But I’m writing a book now.  Who the hell do I think I am?

In “The Dance of the Dissident Daughter”, author Sue Monk Kidd tells a very big, little story.  She’s at a party and accidentally blurts out how in spite of women’s dedication to the church, they’ve gotten a rotten deal.  At this point in her story, she is struggling with her spiritual self and her female self and has a large internal turmoil brewing.  I’m going to quote from the book…

“A man rolled his eyes at the ceiling. ‘Oh no,’ he said.  You’re not one of those women are you?

‘What women?’ I asked.

‘You know, those screaming feminists who are always yelling about how bad women have been treated.’

‘No,’ I told him fast as I could.  ‘I’m not one of those.’  And I dropped the subject as if it was toxic waste.”

In these current political times, feminists are still screaming harpies.  Called slut and whore when including themselves in the national healthcare debate.  There is still a cultural taboo against a woman speaking up.  I feel that now.  Who am I to talk?  Who am I to document my story?

I mean… Just ask the bible, the book that was fed to me every day.

Let’s give 1 Timothy chapter 2 a gander:

“9.  In like manner also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with braided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array;

10.  But (which becometh women professing godliness) with good works.

11.  Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection.

12.  But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence.

13.  For Adam was first formed, then Eve.

14.  And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression.

15.  Notwithstanding she shall be saved in childbearing, if they continue in faith and charity and holiness with sobriety.”

I am a woman who wants to give warnings to the future.  I am a woman who wants to confront the past.  I am a woman who tore off my head covering a long time ago and said, NO!  I am a woman who knows that there are so many people trapped in spiritual abuse and I want to put my voice into the wind so that maybe they will hear me and find strength.  I want to take my scars and my naked vulnerability and sacrifice it so that others won’t go where I have gone.

Sometimes you have to zip up your gogo boots, stand tall and scream “I am one of THOSE women!”

This is an exciting new venture and the book will be autobiographic, but I will also weave in tools on how to leave a cult (or other legalistic, high demand, abusive environments) and living with ptsd.

This is not the case and I will try to post more positive things too.  Because if this blog is about my recovery from spiritual abuse and ptsd, I should talk about some of the amazing strides in my recovery that have happened.

This requires a shift in my mindset and being able to talk about good things in itself is a huge recovery.  And now, thanks to my friend, I feel like this mental shift is another good step for me.

I am now able to relax on my own.  Before it required cocktails to make me capable of turning down my hyper vigilance and paranoia.  I haven’t done any binge drinking since I was in Sacramento last January and now only have maybe two alcoholic drinks a month.  The change that this has created in my mental health is huge.  For one thing, it’s really helped with my impulse control issues.  I am able to work on keeping my boundaries and relax socially without chemical aid.  It’s a process and I am working on it, but I feel really proud of my growth here.

I am now able to differentiate negative feelings.  My default feelings were guilt and shame and that is very deep coding from the church.  “If something is wrong it’s probably my fault and I should feel terrible and confess.”  This was a truth whether or not the situation was real.

My capacity for emotional and sexual intimacy is so much greater because my heart and mind are learning to be calm.  This has been a huge joy in my life and something that I’ve always wanted.

I can see a future.  People with ptsd usually can’t see a future because all they see is doom or assume an early death.  I no longer want an early death and a lot of the darkness has cleared away so that I can see a future.  That future includes pursuing college and having kids.  I want to create a family with E.  Our love is so big that I now trust that a child would have a good life.  This is something that I had denied myself before because I felt like I was a toxic poison.

My move across the country has been a great decision.   Not only am I near my brother and his family which is amazing, but I’ve left many triggers and expectations behind.  A lot of the expectations were mine and I would behave according to a script of who I felt I had to be.  Now, I am completely out of context and I can be a much more authentic me.  Part of me really regrets that I couldn’t do that where I was.  But I couldn’t, I know that part of my coding and brain washing is to try to give people what they want.  But, in a lot of ways I couldn’t see who I was anymore.  I needed to see me in a new way to test out the waters.  It’s been a wonderful and totally bittersweet decision.

There are a lot of struggles but I am really tackling them and looking them in the face.  I am not as haunted as I was.  I purge a lot of that here and I am grateful for the opportunity to do so.  But my life is so much better.

Thank you for putting that comment on my blog, honey.  It’s opened up my mind in more ways I can express myself and that is something you’ve always done for me.  You have been a sister to me for so long and I am grateful that you are in my life and in my blood.

Fasting weekly was one of the mandates of the church.  It was done weekly and we abstained from everything but water until dinner.

My family fasted on Wednesday, which was a hard day because that was the day our class had auto mechanics class on the goat farm.  The guys put an engine together and the girls washed engine parts-in gasoline.  Let me tell you this from experience…  Playing in gasoline on an empty stomach while occasionally being chased by a goat just sucks.  The fumes were more pungent with no blood sugar.

Every winter we would have a winter “retreat” in the woods and there would be three straight days of fasting. The days were filled with marathon sessions of praying in tongues, visions and prophesies.  We were starving.  And it’s easier to channel the holy spirit when you can’t eat and have been praying for 12+ hours straight.

Each fast was generally ended with a binge.  We would have a massive dinner once  a week.  At the winter retreat, everyone worked together to make a massive steak feast to break our fast.

The fast was taken very seriously, I remember when Pastor’s wife confessed that she didn’t keep the fast and ate in secret, we were scandalized and completely betrayed.  I was jealous.  But she always got special treatment.  She and my dad were getting their masters degree at the same time.  My dad was at a work party at Pastors house and the men needed to work quietly so that she could study.  My dad having the same deadlines with his masters had to work even though she got the time off.

Many of my friends have done different cleanses and fasts to reset their body and I have been very adamant in my protests to what crap fasting is.  It’s hard sometimes, when you are raised a fundamentalist with only black and white thinking to get out of that mindset-even if you’ve left the faith.  I regret now how vocal, unsupportive and condemning I was.

I know that frequently being forced to go without food and then condoned binging has contributed to my eating issues.  Right now I am contemplating going on a juice fast for a while to cleanse my liver and to become more healthy.  My juicer is ready.  It has taken a lot of work on my part to see and identify how I have been affected by the food control.  We’ll see if I am able to move past it and confront it head on.

The thought of having something wrong there completely flooded me with grief.  And I remember Pastor telling us that he had been to med school, this qualified him to do the examination.  We didn’t need a doctor for something like this.

I wondered last night through my tears if he had been to med school.  Did he have any of the history, education and experience that he told us about?  Who was this guy who controlled our lives?

E and I sat with my tears and grief, he held me.  I couldn’t sleep until 4:30am because I knew there were going to be terrible nightmares and I was scared.  He stayed up with me the whole time and I cried into the handkerchief that he keeps on him.

Grief ambushes.  The nightmares were terrible last night, woke up around 12:30pm.  I feel very down and out of sorts today.  I really want to say something positive and redemptive, but really I want to go back to bed and cry.

Learning about others is helping me and I hope that I can make others feel like they are not alone too.

People are so gorgeously resilient.

I don’t know why that word makes some of the abuse feel more real to me.  Exploring the depth of the manipulation and how that affects my mental status, thinking and emotional world can be exhausting so I had to live inside me for a while and couldn’t post.