Warning: contents may offend

Before my mother passed away, she decided that she would dedicate her time to a cause. It was about 1999 and she was writing letters to municipal leaders, encouraging them to forbid gay "marriage."  She believed that people in same sex unions could come up with their own word, but that "marriage" was sacred. She was hung up on semantics and she was waging her own little war.

My understanding of gay unions was limited. I know that I strongly offended a friend in high school because I revealed that someone she knew was openly gay, and I knew that the Second Cup on Church (Toronto) was the gay area. Other than that, I kissed the odd friend for attention at keg parties and dabbled little in what it meant to be gay.  

Better said, what it doesn't mean.

Fact: people have attached meaning sexual orientation just as they have attached meaning to words like Muslim, Black, Anorexic, Challenged, Jew, Middle-eastern, Indian, Christian, Mormon, Pot-Head, or MILF for that matter. I could go on.

I believe that had my mom survived to experience progress and change, that she would have adapted her beliefs, that she would have adapted her views, that her scope would not remain a single eye-piece, but a periphery; as it truly is. In the end, she gave up on her crusade to limit the use of the word, and instead she taught art classes in a hospice.

Five years ago my dad got excited as he shared, "The church has become really progressive. We are letting gay people in now, and we have a program to convert them."

SHUT. THE. FRONT. DOOR.

"Do you have a program to change the color of people's skin too?" I interjected.

Wouldn't change one damn thing here. Salt of the Earth.

 I left the church when I was 16 after sobbing every Sunday in our silver Chevy Sprint while my mom attended the service.  I don't fit in here. I thought. And I was right.  I didn’t sob because I was sad per-se, but because I felt my core being squished into tiny space of intolerance. Of should do’s and in my case, shouldn’t do’s.  

Confession: I open-mouth kissed a boy by the time I was 12.  Doug Larmour. One of my leaders STRONGLY encouraged us not to because, “It was a fact that within five years of French kissing, you would be having sex.”  I quote.

I will never fit in to a vision that is so narrow in scope that it shuns the heart and soul of a fellow sister or brother, an institution that turns it's back on good people; great people.  I will never belong to club that thinks for fraction of a second we are better, or they're not good enough to be here. I will never fit in to religion that preaches with words, but acts in complete discord. My heart is open and my scope is broad.

Don’t get me wrong.  There were members of the church that set a wonderful example of compassion and kindness.

But I experienced what it feels like to navigate the world with blinders on. Albeit, at the "righteous" hand of hypocrisy and dishonesty. 

This post is inspired by this video, and the subsequent article.  Share your thoughts.

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