Mirror Image
n. An image that has its parts arranged with a reversal of right and left
The conversation went something like this:
(JD) Mickey Dolenz is going to be in town! Do you remember the Monkees or are you too young? (T) I’m just a little bit too young. Weren’t they on TV around 1967?
(JD) Yeah. . .1965 to ’68. (T) Yeah. I was born in ’65.
(T) I’m more the age of Shawn Cassidy. Do you remember him? I had his posters all over my room. Hey, you remember Leif Garrett?? I had posters of him too!
(JD) Of course I remember Shawn Cassidy!!!! I’m gay. . .remember???
Wait a minute. . .you don’t get to be gay when you want to fit in or take part in a conversation and then turn around tonight and go to some Homosexuals Anonymous meeting in order not to be gay anymore! That’s not fair to those of us who really are gay and have dealt with it.
You can’t do that. . . can you?
Those of us who have officially earned our membership cards in the “great gay fellowship” would never do anything like that. Once we learn the secret handshake and have received our second or third toaster oven as a reward for recruiting new members into the club we never act straight. Not even when we want to fit in or take part in a water cooler conversation at work. . .do we?
Mirror image indeed.
Showing posts with label mirror image. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mirror image. Show all posts
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Mirror Image
Last week I met JD* for the first time. We made small talk. He seemed nice. Quite talkative.
The “let me get to know you questions” gradually got a bit more personal. At first I was vague and then I decided that if he had the courage to keep asking things, I would answer truthfully. I thought that as the answers got more honest he would become uncomfortable enough to stop asking.
Do you go to church? Sort of.
I’m United Methodist. I used to be. I used to be a missionary in the United Methodist Church.
Really! (looking excited to have made a connection) Where did you serve? At an inner-city church in Toledo.
That must have been a great job! What did you do? (deep breath) Adult spiritual development with gay and lesbian Christians.
The color drained from JD’s face. There was a long, awkward pause. I maintained my gaze. He looked away as his face flushed.
How can you do that job as a missionary? Were you telling them they couldn’t be gay anymore? No. I’m gay. I was helping all of us learn that we don’t have to separate who we are at home and in our hearts from who we try to be at church. God already knows us. We can’t really hide these things from God.
Extended silence. I went back to what I was doing. He turned away and went back to his task.
I started to feel bad. We were going to have to spend time together fairly regularly. “What if I made him really, really uncomfortable?” I asked myself. “Well, he shouldn’t ask questions he doesn’t want the answers to. . .”
A few minutes passed and then he said, “Can I tell you something? I’m gay. But I don’t want to be. I go to meetings so God will change me.”
We looked at each other.
“I’m not going to judge you,” I said. “You have to live your life and make your choices.”
He looked relieved.
“I try not to be gay,” he said. “Nobody would love me if I was. My parents. . .my friends. . .I couldn't handle that.”
I was silent – not knowing what to say to that.
“I won’t try to change you either,” he said.
“OK,” I agreed.
Life throws funny curves doesn’t it? I look at JD and I look at myself and it feels a bit like there’s a funhouse mirror settled right down between us.
Mirror Image
n. An image that has its parts arranged with a reversal of right and left
For the next few months I may continue writing about JD and me. If I do, I will title the posts Mirror Image.
*John Doe – obviously if you know who I’m writing about please be confidential.
The “let me get to know you questions” gradually got a bit more personal. At first I was vague and then I decided that if he had the courage to keep asking things, I would answer truthfully. I thought that as the answers got more honest he would become uncomfortable enough to stop asking.
Do you go to church? Sort of.
I’m United Methodist. I used to be. I used to be a missionary in the United Methodist Church.
Really! (looking excited to have made a connection) Where did you serve? At an inner-city church in Toledo.
That must have been a great job! What did you do? (deep breath) Adult spiritual development with gay and lesbian Christians.
The color drained from JD’s face. There was a long, awkward pause. I maintained my gaze. He looked away as his face flushed.
How can you do that job as a missionary? Were you telling them they couldn’t be gay anymore? No. I’m gay. I was helping all of us learn that we don’t have to separate who we are at home and in our hearts from who we try to be at church. God already knows us. We can’t really hide these things from God.
Extended silence. I went back to what I was doing. He turned away and went back to his task.
I started to feel bad. We were going to have to spend time together fairly regularly. “What if I made him really, really uncomfortable?” I asked myself. “Well, he shouldn’t ask questions he doesn’t want the answers to. . .”
A few minutes passed and then he said, “Can I tell you something? I’m gay. But I don’t want to be. I go to meetings so God will change me.”
We looked at each other.
“I’m not going to judge you,” I said. “You have to live your life and make your choices.”
He looked relieved.
“I try not to be gay,” he said. “Nobody would love me if I was. My parents. . .my friends. . .I couldn't handle that.”
I was silent – not knowing what to say to that.
“I won’t try to change you either,” he said.
“OK,” I agreed.
Life throws funny curves doesn’t it? I look at JD and I look at myself and it feels a bit like there’s a funhouse mirror settled right down between us.
Mirror Image
n. An image that has its parts arranged with a reversal of right and left
For the next few months I may continue writing about JD and me. If I do, I will title the posts Mirror Image.
*John Doe – obviously if you know who I’m writing about please be confidential.
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