Journal Project #1: How Firm a Foundation

As any LDS person knows, keeping a journal is a pretty standard thing. I'm not sure how others have treated their own journal writing, but I've been keeping one since first grade (when I used to write about wanting to be an astronaut or a magician). I've reread sections of my journals many times throughout my life, but this is the first time I've sat down and started at the beginning and read straight through. I've found myself laughing, crying, nodding my head in approval, and shaking my head in sadness and frustration. Especially in later volumes, the patterns of my life are very obvious. Since I'm only including tiny snippets here, those patterns will be even more glaringly obvious (maybe not so much in this first, introductory, installment but certainly in later ones).


I've decided to write down these excerpts mainly so that you can get a glimpse into the past 18+ years of my life, the period I've referred to often on this blog. It's one thing to reflect back on my life from the standpoint of my current self, but seeing my actual words and thoughts as certain things were happening can be much more revealing; seeing those thing helps me to know myself better and appreciate how much I've grown and changed (and even makes me a little frustrated at a few ways I have not changed).

I know I am not alone in many of the things I've felt and experienced. For that reason, this story and my experiences are not my own, but they belong to everyone who grew up knowing that he or she didn't fit the prescribed mold. At any rate, feel free to skip over these posts if reading my journals does not interest you. It's really more therapeutic for me to go through them again anyway. ;)

Note: Commentary, background information, and clarifications will be in [brackets].

November 11, 1993 [my junior year of high school]
...There is something I've been confused about for a long time but never wrote about. My religion....All of a sudden, things started sounding so bogus. Things I have believed in all my life, I have begun questioning. Even the "Joseph Smith" story is sounding fake....I pray and pray and I never get an answer, yet I have learned that the Lord hears everyone's prayers. I never receive any answers to any of my prayers. The church always has a quick comeback for this like, "You need to humble yourself," or "You just are not ready for the answer," or "You need to have more faith." It's hard to have faith when I have never had anything happen to me to boost my faith....Maybe God is angry with me. Why would He just desert me if He truly loves me? I am so confused....

January 4, 1994
I have finally come to terms with "it." I have read a lot of articles and thought about it a lot. I don't care what the church says about it. If I go to Hell because of it then I didn't want to go to Heaven. I am what I am, and I am not evil and neither is it. People just don't understand it. There were a lot of things that led up to it, but I don't want to discuss them now. [I'm not sure what I was referring to here.] I think about my "favorite thing" almost every night. [code word for future fantasy boyfriend] I get such a feeling of love and comfort. I'm not ready to tell anyone about it. I probably won't until after I move out.

August 8, 1994
...Before I go on to the other part of my Texas experience [this was right after I returned from a three-week ballet workshop in San Antonio, TX] there is something I need to say. I am absolutely terrified to say this and there is really no way to break it to you easily. But I will try to explain my feelings as best as I can. I am a homosexual. I have known it for at least five years now. [Meaning since I had admitted in my head what I had been feeling all my life.] The reason I never wrote about it earlier is that I was afraid my mom would read my journal. I can't be scared anymore--I just have to get it out...I feel such an incredible love and peace [when I think about being with a man], love so strong that it cannot be evil. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I want everyone to like me. It saddens me that people will look at such a small thing and hate me for it.

August 12, 1994
...I registered for school at Mountain View. I am so glad I am a senior. I only have five periods. I did not sign up for seminary. (My mom doesn't know yet.) I have to go tomorrow for my senior pictures. I hope my ugly face doesn't ruin them all.

April 21, 1995 [approximately one month before high school graduation]
...I have written so many poems and things like this to try and make people (whoever "people" are--I don't even know if anyone else will ever see anything I've written) to know what it is like to be a young homosexual. I want them to catch a glimpse of what we go through. Perhaps then they will understand why adult homosexuals act the way they do. Maybe instead of seeing us as repulsive and dirty, they will see us as equals who want the same things as they do. Maybe my friends and family won't hate me for having to lie to them when they see what misery I went through. I think a lot of people will be surprised to learn that I went through any pain at all. I keep all these feelings inside. There is only a very small number of people (who are all gay) that know what I am feeling. The rest of my stress and pain come out on paper.

July 15, 1995
I feel like it is time to come out of the closet. I feel like my parents have the right to know. The only thing keeping me from telling them is the constant fear of rejection. I feel like I am being selfish. I am keeping everyone else in the dark for my own comfort--and God knows I am not feeling any comfort. So why don't I just tell them? Because I am a wimp, that's why. I don't know how much longer I can go on pretending I am straight before I crack. Something has to happen. Whether good or bad, it just has to happen so I can get on with my life.

August 13, 1995
...I don't know where to begin--so much has happened. Hmm... About a week ago I found out that Amanda [name changed] is madly in love with me. That was not what I needed to help me in these "hard times." Well, Lara came over last night after work because I told her that Amanda had called me, and she wanted to know what she had said. Lara knew that I had been sick for about a month. I told her it was because I was keeping everything locked inside. She wanted to know what I was keeping inside. Obviously I was resisting. I kept telling her, "nothing." I knew she wasn't going to give up, so I said maybe we should go for a walk. I told her that she would hate me. She said she would only hate me if I [had] murdered someone. We sat down in a field and started talking. I asked her if she remembered what S.H. had thought of me. (She thought I was gay.) She did remember. I said, "Well...it's true." She said, "So?" just as pain and simple as that. She said that she didn't hate me and that this wouldn't change anything at all between us. She said she was glad I had told her, but she wished I had told her sooner. It was about 11 PM when we finished talking. I explained to her the best I could how I've been feeling. She said she felt sorry for me that I've had so much pain inside and that there's still so much more to come.

September 1, 1995 [a week before moving to Virginia to attend the Virginia School of the Arts]
This past week has been Justin's week from Hell. I totally don't know where to begin. I guess a good place to start would be the beginning. On Tuesday...you're never going to believe this...I came out to my mom. It was so awful. She cried and cried. She told me I was confused. I explained to her the best I could how I feel. She just wouldn't listen... I didn't expect her to accept it or even be willing to accept it, but she really made me feel like crap... [At this point, I start gushing on and on about E., a guy I met who became my first boyfriend, and he is who I focus almost entirely on for the next several months. The fact that I wrote so little about coming out, terrible and traumatic and significant as it was, and moved right on to talking about a man is highly indicative of what would become my number one priority for the next 18 years, finding a man.]

December 10, 1995 [in Virginia]
I talked to my dad about how he feels about my homosexuality. He said he still loves me just as much as before he knew...He said he doesn't ever want me not to tell him something because I'm afraid of how he'll judge me. He wants me to tell him what is happening in my (gay) life and he will also talk about it. I was so relieved after talking to him. I haven't brought it up with my mom since I left, so I don't know if her feelings have changed at all.

January 5, 1996
The night before I left [AZ, where I was for Christmas break] my mom just about had a nervous breakdown. The thing that triggered it was probably the fact that I came home with hickeys on my neck. I was very embarrassed about them so I made E. give me a turtleneck to wear, but she still saw them. She said she felt like she wanted to strangle him when she saw him. She said it was very immature of him. I told her that I didn't like them either, and that he felt bad about them, but that wasn't good enough for her. She said that I jumped into this relationship without thinking. She kept saying that E. could have AIDS or something. When I told her he didn't, she said, "How do you know" How do you know he isn't lying to you?" I tried to explain to her that he wouldn't do that, but I didn't convince her of much. She kept telling me that homosexuality is WRONG and is an abomination to the Lord. She said she knew I could fight this and I could change. I finally told her that I wasn't going to change to make her or anyone else happy. I have tried my whole life to belong and to fit in and I am through trying to be someone I'm not. Anyway, she did a lot of pleading and crying. She said that this is wrong and she wouldn't allow it in her house. As much as this will hurt me, it all basically boils down to the fact that if homosexuality isn't allowed in her house, then I guess I won't go in her house anymore.

January 18, 1996
I talked to my mom a couple days ago to let her know I am on crutches. [I had sprained my knee in a jazz class.] She told me that she was reading an interesting book, Born that Way?, the one she bought for me to read. She said it is very informative. From what she told  me about it, it sounds legitimate, but it described gay people who are suffering and agonizing over their sexuality. That doesn't pertain to me. I keep trying to explain that to her but she still thinks I can change myself. I guess she has also been talking to a lady in the ward who also has a gay son. It was really good for her to be able to talk to someone who went through what she is going through... She didn't raise her voice or cry the whole conversation. She said that she is trying to find some way to be okay with this. She asked if I had talked to E. about what she said about him. I said I did not want to cause any more problems, but that he did have the general idea of what she had said. She was quiet and almost acted like she knew she shouldn't have said some of it. She said she was just trying to get the point across that I shouldn't trust everybody. I guess I'm just glad that she is at least making an effort to come to terms with me.