Our Experiences of the Ex-Gay Movement

Not long ago, a reader emailed us to ask if we would be willing to share in greater detail about our experiences of the ex-gay movement and how it was harmful to us. We’ve referenced this vaguely in other posts because it’s an important part of both our stories, but it has taken us a few weeks to determine our readiness to discuss this topic more specifically. Even some people who know us very well have, up to this point, been unaware of our experiences in the ex-gay world. We’re a bit surprised that only one reader has asked about our histories with this issue because we’ve received a fair number of accusations that because we are celibate, we must be covertly ex-gay. This is absolutely untrue, and we would venture a guess that we’ve experienced just as much pain as a result of these “ministries” as have LGBT people who are sexually active. In the future, we will probably elect to write more on the topic of the ex-gay world. Today, we take our first step towards more open conversation on this matter. The purpose of this post is to initiate discussion on our blog about the detrimental effects of ex-gay ministries upon LGBT Christians.

We’ve decided to structure this post around three general subtopics, but before we get there, we’ll provide you with some background on our individual past involvement with ex-gay ministries. Lindsey joined an ex-gay ministry during college after becoming more aware of Lindsey’s sexuality. Lindsey sought support from ex-gay ministry because Lindsey wasn’t interested in being a cause of scandal for Lindsey’s Christian fellowship on campus. Despite living in a big city at the time, Lindsey couldn’t find many local resources that fit Lindsey’s situation so Lindsey participated in an online forum. The online forum provided a space for young adults to talk about their struggles with same-sex attraction, positing different mechanisms behind the struggles and the victories. In this community, the “opposite” of homosexuality was holiness and members worked very hard at overcoming any areas of sexual sin.

Sarah’s experience did not originate with the intention of participating in an ex-gay ministry. Instead, Sarah was seeking affordable eating disorder treatment resources. Sarah had run out of health insurance coverage and did not have the ability to pay for most professional services due to being a full-time student with limited income. Sarah stumbled accidentally upon a free Christian treatment provider, and was unaware that this provider viewed homosexuality, eating disorders, addictions, and all sorts of maladaptive means of coping with life as the results of demonic possession. When Sarah began receiving services from this provider, Sarah had no idea that “treatment” would focus on attempts to pray away all parts of Sarah’s life that a Christian counselor had deemed contrary to God’s will.

Years after our experiences in the ex-gay movement, we’ve been able to identify three major categories of harm that both of us experienced as a result of being involved with these “ministries.” The rest of this post will provide explanations and examples of those.

Emphasis on certain life experiences and problems as “causes” of homosexuality

According to ex-gay organizations, almost any life experience that deviates slightly from what leaders consider “normal” is a likely candidate for the cause of a person’s sexual orientation. For example, a person’s gender identity is especially suspect as LGB people do not have appropriate understandings of their “true” genders in Christ. Within this framework, a woman who has preferred short hair and jeans to long hair and dresses since childhood likely ended up a lesbian because she was never taught to live into her true feminine identity. The same goes for a man who likes the color pink and prefers dancing over football. Guys are encouraged to see themselves as men of God, embracing a strong masculine identity. When members of Lindsey’s ex-gay ministry got together, the guys would be encouraged to play sports while the girls would be encouraged to explore makeovers. Leaders of this ministry lived in the southern United States where various southern gender ideals were promoted aggressively. This organization’s framework postulated that same-sex desire grew from a perceived deficiency of gender where the same-sex attracted person sought out what he or she was missing from another person of the same sex. Lindsey’s rather ambiguous gender presentation was actively challenged. It was exceptionally hurtful for Lindsey to hear that Lindsey’s stable gender presentation was an active attempt to proclaim LGBT status rather than Lindsey’s natural self-expression.

In ex-gay ministries, a person who has experienced any sort of physical boundary violation at any point in life is said to be deficient in his or her understanding of God’s plan for marriage and sexuality. If a person was ever the victim of sexual violence, leaders of the ministry will insist that the incident was what led that person to “sexual deviance.” There is no consideration of the fact that a large percentage of heterosexual people also have histories of sexual abuse, assault, and rape. People who can’t remember ever having experienced a violation of physical boundaries are urged to try harder at remembering—there must be something that happened in one’s past because according to many ex-gay Christian counselors, “Every gay man or lesbian I’ve ever known has been sexually abused or raped.” For a person who has never had such an experience, repetition of these messages can lead to false memories. For a person who has had such an experience, it becomes impossible to discuss trauma, especially sexual trauma, in any meaningful way because the counselor will always tie it to one’s sexual orientation. Sarah experienced a significant amount of this conflation. Sarah sees Sarah’s own history of trauma as directly related to Sarah’s eating disorder. However, Sarah is confident that this trauma is in no way related to sexual orientation. No matter how much Sarah attempted to discuss trauma within the context of the eating disorder, it was unsuccessful because the counselor’s reply was always something like, “Your experience made you susceptible to demons. The Holy Spirit told me that the demon causing your bulimia will not leave unless you’re willing to let Jesus heal your evil sexual desires.” What usually followed was a spiritually abusive style of free-formed prayer that left Sarah cowering while the counselor commanded the “demons” to leave in Jesus’ name. Sarah’s participation in this unscientific form of treatment not only set Sarah back in terms of recovery, but also left Sarah feeling more stigmatized than ever regarding the trauma.

Manipulation, mind control, and questioning the motives of all actions

For both of us, ex-gay ministries were highly manipulative. Ex-gay ministries assume they know one’s story from the instant one first makes contact. While reportedly trying to help individuals cultivate healthy same-sex friendships, ex-gay ministries frequently insert theories of homosexuality that make friendships difficult. Cultivating appropriate emotional intimacy becomes hard as ministries tout claims of “emotional dependency” as what causes a “normal” same-sex friendship to turn in a necessarily sexual direction. According to this mindset, the only way to determine if one is moving towards “emotional dependency” is to examine one’s motives rigorously and ruthlessly. Lindsey had difficulty having conversations with both men and women as the ministry constantly argued that close opposite-sex friendships should be investigated for marriage potential and that close same-sex friendships needed to be interrogated lest sexual desire arise. Feeling constant pressure to question motives in all these friendships, Lindsey found it easier to remain isolated rather than attempt to build friendships even though isolation significantly fueled Lindsey’s depression. When Lindsey would try to push back on the accepted narrative, Lindsey would be sharply chastised. Eventually, Lindsey’s questioning the ministry’s interpretation of 1 Cor 6:9-11 lead to a rupture in the relationship.

At the time Sarah was receiving therapeutic services from the Christian treatment provider, Sarah frequently heard the message that all problems Sarah experienced in life were somehow related to sexuality. Whether the issue was a struggle to remain behavior-free, a difficult experience in grocery shopping, frustration about relationships with family, or a sense of being overwhelmed by academic work, the counselor found some reason to suggest that the problem would cease to exist (or at least, would not be as serious) if Sarah would only choose to “become straight.” The counselor created visions of an ideal life that Sarah could lead as a “sexually healed” person, complete with a husband, children, a fulfilling career, emotional peace, and financial security. Sarah never actually believed any of this, but because of how ill Sarah had become with the eating disorder before, Sarah felt desperate to find an affordable resource–any resource–that would provide some semblance of tools for wellness. That’s why Sarah continued receiving services from this organization, and despite the best of attempts at getting something useful out of therapy while ignoring harmful messages, Sarah began to feel manipulated and sense that this ministry was trying to gain control over Sarah. Regularly, the counselor would meet Sarah in the most vulnerable of moments with assumptive statements about Sarah’s sexual history, claiming the Holy Spirit had revealed to her that Sarah had engaged in immoral sexual activity just the night before. In reality, Sarah was single and sexually abstinent the entire time. However, that didn’t stop Sarah from beginning to scrutinize and obsess over all of Sarah’s actions. At one point, Sarah had a flashback to a therapy session while admiring the aesthetics of a lovely painting featuring full-figured Roman goddesses in the local art museum.

Spiritual and social consequences for questioning and leaving the organization

Ex-gay ministries do what they do because they portray themselves as committed to God’s work. People who leave these ministries to explore a different sense of their LGBT identities are equated with people who have left Christ, who have not fought the good fight, and who will not inherit the kingdom of God. Leavers are people who have been deceived by Satan and are unable to accept their true identities in Christ. Lindsey left the ex-gay ministry after violating a provision in the code of conduct that members were not to have any unmoderated contact with one another. It should have been a red flag that no amount of adherence to group expectations would have been enough to create an environment of trust. After Lindsey left one ex-gay ministry, Lindsey looked for other options in order to be permitted to continue volunteering at church. But without actively participating in an ex-gay ministry of some kind, Lindsey was unable to do anything in the church because church leaders felt uncomfortable with Lindsey’s involvement in the congregation.

It took a few months for Sarah to see that no possible benefit could be gleaned from continuing to receive counseling services from an organization with such strong ex-gay views. Sarah did not have any other treatment plan in place at the time, but was certain that leaving this resource was the only viable decision. When Sarah first informed the counselor of this, the manipulation intensified in attempt to get Sarah to remain affiliated and continue receiving services. The counselor told Sarah that leaving would bring profound spiritual danger and begged Sarah to pray with her for salvation and deliverance. When Sarah refused, the counselor reminded Sarah of an agreement for receiving a full six months of services that Sarah had signed only three months prior. Eventually when the counselor saw that Sarah would not budge on the decision, she resorted to playing upon Sarah’s worst fear: that leaving would mean giving up hope of ever recovering. “There’s not a treatment facility anywhere in the world that will be able to help you if you’re unwilling to surrender,” she asserted. Sarah did leave and never looked back, but it took a few years to get past the associations Sarah had formed amongst harmful behaviors, sexual orientation, and accusations of being untrue to Christ. Fortunately, Sarah began a relationship with a compassionate spiritual director within Sarah’s own Christian tradition less than a week after this incident. He was able to help Sarah deconstruct the poor theological and psychological claims made within the ex-gay world and encourage Sarah to spend time listening to God.

Our experiences of ex-gay ministry are radically different, yet eerily similar. Lindsey sought ex-gay ministry voluntarily, and Sarah stumbled unknowingly across a ministry with ex-gay ideals. We think it’s important to note that many Christian organizations that do not outwardly claim to be ex-gay have an implicit predisposition to try and force LGBT people towards cisgender, heterosexual norms. The tactics used are highly manipulative and become spiritually abusive far too easily. Under no circumstances do we approve of ministries seeking to help LGBT Christians become straight.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

Saturday Symposium: Supporting Celibate LGBT People, Take 2

Happy Saturday to all of our readers. We hope everyone has had a joyous and stress-free week, at least as much as possible in this fast-paced world of ours.

This week, we have an important announcement: we discovered yesterday that our Contact Us and Ask Us! forms had some technical issues. The problem has been fixed now and the forms have been tested and re-tested multiple times, so everything should be fine if you want to reach us. But if you’ve tried to contact us within the past few weeks and haven’t received a response, it’s likely that we never got your email. We’re now caught up on all email, and we would like to apologize to any readers who have been affected by this issue. If your message to us got lost in cyberspace, feel free to send it along again and we will do our best to offer a timely response.

This week, we are not posting a new “Saturday Symposium” question. Instead, we are going to ask our question from last week once again. We’re hoping to write on that topic this coming week, and since we’ve had technical difficulties we would like to give another opportunity for more readers to respond to the question.

How this works: It’s very simple. We ask a multi-part question related to a topic we’ve blogged about during the past week or are considering blogging about in the near future, and you, our readers, share your responses in the comments section. Feel free to be open, reflective, and vulnerable…and to challenge us. But as always, be mindful of the comment policy that ends each of our posts. Usually, we respond fairly quickly to each comment, but in order to give you time to think, come back, add more later if you want, and discuss with other readers, we will wait until after Monday to respond to comments on Saturday Symposium questions.

This week’s Saturday Symposium question: This week, we are doing some research for two topics we would like to write about within the next couple of weeks. Readers, you come to us from a wide range of life experiences and Christian traditions. We’re interested in knowing your thoughts on: 1) How can people holding a traditional sexual ethic be more supportive of celibate LGBT Christians? 2) How can people holding a modern, liberal sexual ethic be more supportive of celibate LGBT Christians?

We look forward to reading your responses. If you’re concerned about having your comment publicly associated with your name, please consider using the Contact Us page to submit your comment. We can post it under a pseudonym (i.e. John says, “your comment”) or summarize your comment in our own words (i.e. One person observed…). Participating in this kind of public dialogue can be risky, and we want to do what we can to protect you even if that means we preserve your anonymity. Have a wonderful weekend!

Blessings,

Sarah and Lindsey

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

Protected by celibacy?

As we’ve been blogging, from time to time people have approached us with questions like, “Why do you care about LGBT people in the Church? You’re celibate. You don’t have anything to worry about.” People assume that because we’re celibate, we’ve checked the proverbial box that ensures that we’re safe in all Christian environments. Not to put too fine a point on our response, but that assumption couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Some people think that if we’re celibate, we’re not identifiable as members of the LGBT community. In truth, Lindsey’s never been able to pass as a cisgender, heterosexual person in terms of physical appearance. With a rather ambiguous build, short hair, and a penchant for khakis and button-down shirts, Lindsey fits many people’s stereotypes of what an LGBT person looks like. It doesn’t matter that Lindsey’s appearance has been mostly static since middle school. When Sarah is not with Lindsey, people generally assume Sarah–who has an unmistakably feminine appearance–is straight. However, we as a couple lose any privileges associated with passing as straight the instant Lindsey appears on the scene. To many people, that we show up as a pair and that and Lindsey is so visibly a member of the LGBT community are enough for them to make assumptions about our sexual ethics. Celibacy doesn’t even enter the picture.

Equally, our celibacy does not protect Sarah from facing backlash once people see us together. We’ve noticed in situation after situation how easily people’s comfort levels with Sarah change once they meet Lindsey and realize we’re together. One example of this came about when Lindsey was in the process of moving to Sarah’s city. During visits prior to the move, Lindsey attended services at Sarah’s parish with Sarah. Sarah had recently made that parish home, and was still relatively new there. While many people initially treated Sarah just like any other person, that began to change once they met Lindsey—and this was well before anyone had come to know us as a couple. Simply seeing us attend church together was enough to cause some to distance themselves from Sarah and hesitate to socialize with Lindsey at all.

Another issue is that a great many people have no understanding of what celibacy is and/or think “being gay” automatically means having sex. To these folks, the idea of celibacy as a way of life an LGBT person might adopt is foreign. The question they ask is not, “What is an appropriate sexual ethic for an LGBT person?” Instead, it’s, “Why isn’t this person willing to stop being gay?” When we are in the presence of people holding this perspective, our celibacy means nothing in conversation. If we try at all to discuss celibacy in response to someone’s assertion of, “The Church says you can’t be gay,” that gets us nowhere more often than not. Sometimes, the person will counter with, “Well, if you aren’t having sex, then you aren’t really gay,” followed by, “You could still get married to someone of the opposite sex if you wanted.” But generally, we don’t even get that much of a conversation going. The more typical response we hear is, “Huh?” with no further attempt at engaging us in discussion ever again. In these situations, our celibacy does nothing to protect us because the person isn’t comfortable talking about sexual ethics in the first place.

Additionally, people frequently associate celibacy with singleness. To these people, we cannot be celibate because we are in a relationship with one another. We find this assumption to be entirely problematic because it misrepresents celibacy. Celibacy as a way of life is deeply rooted in community. Monastic communities provide insight into how people have lived Christ-centered celibate lives for hundreds of years. Conversely, living alone in an apartment far from one’s family of origin is arguably one of the newest ways of life. Yet, an identifiably solitary life is the dominant image most people have of modern celibacy. Because many people associate celibacy with singleness, they cannot grasp the idea that we’re a celibate couple, let alone consider what that might mean for our lives as LGBT Christians. These people can only see us members of the LGBT community and make assumptions about our activity from there. We’re no strangers to the accusation that we have rejected a celibate way of life because we’re in a relationship.

We totally understand that celibacy is a queer calling. Many people just don’t get it. While at first glance it may seem that celibate LGBT people are protected by their celibacy, we (and other individuals in similar situations) often encounter a double helping of misconceptions about both celibacy and LGBT topics. We’re consistently read in social situations as “not heterosexual,” a reading which in and of itself invites a considerable amount of accusations.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

To the sanctimonious thin person who handed me a note at the gym…

A reflection by Sarah

This post has little relevance for the general subject of our blog, but we decided that I should publish it here anyway. Yesterday, I (Sarah) was at the gym doing my usual workout when the woman running on the elliptical next to me finished her own workout, began looking at her phone, scribbled something down on a sheet of notebook paper, folded it, and handed it to me. I waited a bit before reading it, but when I did, I saw that the note was laden with sanctimonious presumptions about people of size. A quick Google search showed me that the woman’s note had very little originality: over half of it was a word-for-word repeat of a Facebook post that had gone viral last month, apparently. Today, I’m using our blog as a medium for responding to the person who gave me the note. Thanks to all our readers who have patiently allowed me the space to process some things related to my eating disorder recovery. The past few weeks have been challenging for me, and I’ve been uplifted by the encouragement I’ve received from readers. After this post, I’ll try to give that topic a rest for a bit, and we’ll get back to our regularly scheduled posts on celibacy, vocation, and LGBT Christian issues.

Dear Sanctimonious thin person who handed me a note at the gym,

It took me about thirty seconds to find the source of your unoriginal note. It’s all over the Internet. I found it here and in several other places. I also found a response it received from another blogger who felt a sense of solidarity with the original note’s target. I have no idea what motivated you to write out parts of it on a sheet of notebook paper and hand it to me yesterday after you had finished your workout on the elliptical next to mine. Presumably, you found something inspiring when you saw the original circulating through social media. Maybe you thought it would inspire me as well. Maybe you were once my size and were trying to give me an “it gets better” sort of message. Maybe you’ve always been the size you are now. I don’t know anything about you, but I’m going to show you a courtesy that you did not show me: I’m going to give you the chance to tell your own story instead of making one up to explain your actions. I waited a couple of minutes to read your note after you handed it to me, but when I did read it I stopped mid-workout and made a run for the locker room in attempt to find you. You were already gone, so I’m using the blog I write with my partner as an opportunity to voice what I didn’t get the chance to in person.

I was not, as your note suggests, at the gym on a noble mission to reduce my body size. At one time I was as thin as you, if not thinner. But I certainly wasn’t healthy. I came to the gym regularly, wearing cute cotton lycra outfits like yours, bearing a large water bottle and an apple or protein bar. I’d alternate between the elliptical and weightlifting, sometimes hitting up the pool for laps instead. Then, I’d go home and consume an extra large pizza, which would ultimately end up down the garbage disposal in my apartment. In those days, I spent more time purging food than eating it in the first place. Eventually, this became the fate of the apple and protein bar as well. After years of this daily routine, I reached a point at which I found myself in the emergency room every other week. My eyes were sunken, my neck was sore from swollen glands, and I spent more than a few days on a potassium drip that month. But to my knowledge, no one at the gym had ever wondered what I was doing or speculated as to why I was there amongst all those thin people—I was one of them.

That was almost seven years ago. Since then, I’ve undergone a significant amount of treatment and devoted certain seasons of life solely to recovering from my eating disorder. I made it a goal to eat normal meals and snacks every day no matter what, and generally I’ve kept to that for the past seven years. I don’t always do perfectly, and I’m not 100% behavior-free, but life is infinitely better than it has been in years past. I’ve also gained a lot of weight since then, and I’m sad to say that I didn’t realize the magnitude of social stigma against fat persons until I became one myself. I like my broccoli, avocados, and flaxseed, and I can’t stand the taste of fast food. Rarely have I exceeded normal portion sizes since my time in eating disorder treatment, yet because of my wonky metabolism I’m the largest I’ve ever been in my life. But you know what? I’ll take my current size—complete with t-shirt and sweatpants instead of cotton lycra gym outfits—over my former, unhealthy, “thin” body any day.

Sure, there are people who think I’ve gone from one extreme to the other where thinness is concerned. Yes, there are medical professionals who don’t care to hear my story and would rather assume incorrectly that I visit McDonald’s on a regular basis. Some people gawk at me for eating ice cream or a cupcake when my partner takes me out for a special treat. Women in my family make ignorant comments about my body size and will probably do so from now to kingdom come. And indeed, there are and will continue to be thin people like you who feel the need to “inspire” the rest of us by presuming to know our stories and playing on size-shaming stereotypes. No matter. I’m happier and healthier as a fat person than I ever was as a thin person. And if my body were to change and suddenly drop a bunch of weight while I’m still eating normal portions, that would be totally cool too. Whatever my body does naturally is fine by me, and I’m not interested in wearing my size—large, small, or anywhere in between—as a badge of honor.

I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and say this as though you had the best of intentions when passing me that note: you may be unaware, but a person’s body size is not the sole indicator of health. Weight and shape aren’t everything. Weight loss is not the only reason a larger person might be at the gym. It might not be a reason at all—it certainly isn’t for me. Being healthy is not about being in a thin body, and size doesn’t tell you what or how much a person is or is not eating. Commending a larger person for going to the gym as “a step toward a healthier lifestyle” may sound admirable, but in reality that phrase is loaded with assumptions. The fat person you want to praise for “paying off the debt of another midnight snack, another dessert, another beer” could already be living a healthy lifestyle, and may have been doing so for years. For all you know, she might be eating more healthily and getting more balanced physical activity than you are. Please consider the content of my response before offering another unsuspecting gym patron a bit of your poorly contrived inspiration. And next time you have something to say to a total stranger, try speaking from your heart instead of plagiarizing from a Facebook post gone viral.

Sincerely,

Sarah

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.

Speaking of Gender

A reflection by Lindsey

In many conversations about faith and sexuality, people frequently emphasize one’s sexual orientation over one’s gender identity. Those attempting to talk about LGBT issues often overlook the last letter of the acronym. Questions about gender and gender identity get shifted into the background, pushed behind the stage, and were rarely welcomed into the conversation in the first place. Sometimes, concerns for fundamental equality between men and women can obscure why gender identity might matter.

I’ll be the first to admit that I feel out of my league when I try to speak of gender. I grew up thinking that gender was little more than a biological tag that indicated what restroom you used in public areas. I never had my gender flouted in front of my face to tell me that I couldn’t do x, y, or z. In many ways, I consider myself fortunate that I never encountered gender as an obstacle that blocked opportunities or prevented me from deciding how I wanted to express myself.

That doesn’t mean gender is easy.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to see how gender saturates the world around us. I’ve been lucky enough because I have never been able to be bothered with the “right” way of expressing myself. If you look at photos of me beginning at the age of 5 and continuing to present day, you’ll see that my self-presentation has been more or less constant for 25 years. Sure, there was a blip on the radar in 7th grade when I was experimenting with what it might look like to have long hair, but we all know that junior high students try on a range of self-presentations. In many ways, I feel safer because 5-year-old me knew how to be Lindsey no matter what other people might think. That’s one part of my 5-year-old self that I’m glad to still be holding onto to this day.

Yet, I wonder if we’re starting to see a shift in how we talk about gender. I’ve become increasingly aware that it’s possible to label another person’s self-presentation as “gender non-conforming.” In some ways, I wonder if conversations around gender identity are starting to diversify in a way akin to the many different conversations about sexual orientation. When people began discussing sexual orientation, the dominant word used to describe the minority sexual orientation was “gay.” For a good bit now, the dominant word used to describe the minority gender identity was “transgender.” I find myself welcoming the broadening of the discussions as people with degrees of gender variation begin to experiment with ideas like genderqueer, bigender, and agender even as these terms have exceptionally fluid definitions.

For my part, I’ll admit to being somewhat lost in the shuffle about what all of these terms mean. None of these terms seem especially comfortable for describing my own situation, but I’ve been on this journey long enough to know it’s okay that I’m not ready to go out and buy assorted buttons to broadcast my preferred vocabulary to the universe. I’m profoundly grateful that so many people over the years have related to me simply as Lindsey without asserting the various rules of gender identity, performance, and expression to control my activity. Since having my own awakening as to how gender manifests itself in our world, I’ve experienced some rather jarring discomfort when I notice people actively enforcing gendered boundaries. I joke that there’s sort of a gender scale that stretches from 1 (gender is not noticeably present in any constraining way) to 10 (gender organizes just about every expectation and interaction), where I’m particularly apt to label my experiences of profound discomfort as Gender 11 moments. I’ve also noticed that when I have my choice of where to be, I’d rather be in environments much lower on the gender scale.

Talking about this topic is hard, partly because I think we’ve gotten so used to the conversation being about sexual orientation that we overlook how people navigate questions about gender. I didn’t even realize that gender might be an important part of how I experience these conversations until just a few years ago. But I wanted to take some time today to open a conversation about gender here on the blog. The door is open, the kettle is on, and I’d love to talk with you more in the comments.

Comment Policy: Please remember that we, and all others commenting on this blog, are people. Practice kindness. Practice generosity. Practice asking questions. Practice showing love. Practice being human. If your comment is rude, it will be deleted. If you are constantly negative, argumentative, or bullish, you will not be able to comment anymore. We are the sole moderators of the combox.