It would be better that a millstone ...

It has been a busy weekend with back-to-back scientific conferences in two states. It has been a tiring few days, but in my spare moments I have been thinking a lot about the LDS Church’s new policy towards children of same-sex parents. I’ve absorbed what I could on-line: denunciations of the policy by critics of the Church, stories of families affected by these changes, and even a few defenses of the offensive policy. I’ve tried to assemble some thoughts early this morning, on a flight, and now at the PDX airport.

The new policy targets LGB people and their families in a few ways. First, it establishes that same-sex marriage is an offense of apostasy, and therefore requires mandatory Church discipline. (Note that not even actual serious crimes like child abuse mandate automatic church discipline.) It is a clear message to LGBT Mormons that the Church condemns the relationships that are most likely to bring them happiness. It sends a message to bishops that they cannot just let the nice gay couple in their ward sneak under the radar without punishment. Second, the policy sets out administrative rules for the children of parents that are (or have even been) in same-sex relationships. These children now cannot receive the main saving ordinances of the Church, including baptism, until they are 18. At that time, they cannot not reside in a same-sex household, they must attest that they do not accept the legitimacy of same-sex relationships (including mom or dad’s), and they must have permission from the highest authorities of the Church to then be baptized.

One has to seriously question any notion that this policy is needed to clarify church doctrine. If there is one thing anyone in the United States would know about the Mormons these days it could very well be the fact they are opposed to same-sex marriage. If that wasn’t obvious from Proposition 8, consider that it is repeated ad infinitum in general conference talks, press releases, stories by news media and by faithful members as they post their views on social media with family and friends. In fact, the Church’s anti-gay marriage position may be so well known that it could run the risk of drowning out the message that Mormonism should really focus on bringing to humanity – following Jesus’ example of love and service to transform one’s own soul.

As I’ve thought about the possible motivations for issuing the policy, it is impossible to surmise the actual intentions of Church leaders. Perhaps it is a way for church leadership to assert its relevance into questions of gay marriage and gay relationships that the Church has been solidly losing in the courts and in public discourse. One blogger thought the motivation might be a simple act of flexing institutional power, an assertion that wouldn’t seem inconsistent with other moments in Mormon history. Mostly, it seems very controlling to me. But regardless of the motivations, the potential for harm is great. True, for many Mormon or ex-Mormon individuals and families, this will have little relevance. For others it will result in disruption and conflict. In the end, it serves the interest of the Church only and few else. That is a sad indictment of a religion that claims to speak for God.

In my present circumstances, I don’t think the policy directly affects me or my children. I am still married to my wife (and not in a same-sex relationship) and my spouse and children only partly attend church. But we very well could be affected directly under different circumstances, especially as life evolves into the future. Thursday evening as I read the breaking news flooding over social media as I walked the isles of the supermarket, I felt a lot of anger. I felt hurt again, like an old wound was yet again being opened. Not content to leave us in peace, the Church needed to remind us of our “sin” yet again. The Church needed to remind us that God doesn’t approve of gay relationships yet again.

I do know of former gay Mormons who are much more likely to be impacted. These are friends and others who have previously been in mixed orientation marriages. They have divorced and left the Church, but their still-believing spouses wish to raise the children in Mormonism. These are among the families affected by this policy and these families are not necessarily a small minority in the LGBT community. I could write volumes about how difficult mixed orientation marriages are for everyone involved – straight spouse, gay spouse, and children. My own experience, which is no where from nearing its end, has involved years of navigating sorrow, disappointment, and confusion.

If I could articulate the root of my anger, it might be the repeated insensitivity of LDS church leadership towards the broader LGBT family, and especially towards those of us working through the complexity of mixed orientation marriages. Indeed, it was the doctrine and culture of Mormonism that created an environment in which these marriages were more likely to occur in the first place. Now, our complex and trying circumstances are left scattered over the battlefield Mormonism has waged with the LGBT community and we are largely abandoned. There is no official apology: “We are sorry to have once encouraged you to marry; we apologize for teaching false information about homosexuality; we regret that our doctrine on the family has been so narrow; we are sorry that you felt so much pressure to conform to a heterosexual ideal that doesn’t fit who you are.”

If the Church wanted to really help our families, policies that might further divide families should be the absolute last thing it would consider. It would provide resources to help us through family adjustments or through divorce; it would replace its false teachings about homosexuality and gay relationships with sound research on sexuality; it would plead with God to reveal a healthy and sustainable path for LGBT people within the Church. It would not issue a policy that only makes it harder for some of our families to reach a place of peace and reconciliation.

I don’t believe anymore, and for many reasons, not just because I’m gay. In many ways this chapter of life is over. Yet through extended family and close friends, because of a decade and a half of life dedicated to the Church, and through the cultural imprints that will continue to influence me in even small ways going forward, I won’t ever know a time when I’m not touched in some way by the Church. In many respects that legacy has been positive. But on sexuality, the Church is dead wrong. It owns a long legacy of incorrect teachings about homosexuality and it bears much responsibility for the damage that has caused to individuals and families.

The best outcome now for me is to part peaceably from the Church. I have done so all but officially. But, the Church needs to leave us alone too. If church leadership consistently chooses to turn LGBT issues into a cultural war, they will lose. If you look at the emerging science of sexuality and gay relationships, you will know they have lost. If you get to know a gay person, and see their struggle and humanity, you will know the church has lost. And if you consider the un-severable bond between parents and children, even gay parents and their children, you will know they have lost. Only a fool would think to stand between a mama bear and her cub.

To my LDS friends: please speak up about this policy. Please speak with your local Church leaders or write to Church leaders. Please support the LGBT Mormons and ex-Mormons in your lives, and especially the children of these individuals. 

This husband IS gay

Discussion of mixed orientation marriages – marriages where one partner is straight and the other is gay or bisexual – has sort of exploded on-line lately in at least part of the Mormon community. Mostly this appears to have been prompted by a show that will air by The Learning Channel this weekend titled “My Husband’s Not Gay”. The program features several gay Mormon men who are in straight marriages and a single same-sex attracted Mormon who wants to marry a woman. Perhaps co-incidentally, NPR also recently featured an interview with a gay Christian pastor recently married to a straight woman.

Will straight marriages work for most gay people? Image source

I have mixed feelings about this topic. For readers not familiar with me personally, or some of my older posts on this blog, a bit of context is warranted. I’m presently in a mixed orientation marriage (MOM) myself. I’m gay, but I married heterosexually over a decade ago. I was deeply active in Mormonism at the time. While we were still dating, I told my wife a little (unfortunately way too little!) about my attractions to other men, but both of us had only a superficial understanding of homosexuality at the time. We didn’t discuss the topic much more and we got married. Though I knew since my teenage years that I liked guys, acting on those feelings in any capacity was strictly forbidden in the LDS Church. Also, growing up I never experienced anything close to a same-sex relationship – something that probably would have helped me figure things at an earlier age. Around the time I was married, I wondered if my same-sex feelings might change in the future. I just didn’t know, but it sure would have lifted a huge psychological burden. I had had a lot of shame about my sexuality for a long time. Why did I marry? The reasons were several and included everything from finding someone who was (and is) a wonderful friend and partner, to believing that I needed to marry to show my complete obedience to God. It also should be mentioned that my Mormon singles congregation at the time was bombarded repeatedly with well-meaning, but persistent, encouragement to get married! That’s supposedly what God wants Mormons to do.

I came out as gay a little over four years ago. Before that time, however, my beliefs in orthodox Mormonism were already fading. Today, I’m in a very different place spiritually. I now believe that Mormonism is deeply wrong about LGBT people. Its doctrines on same-sex attraction are not consistent with common sense, nor with sociological research. Many Mormon leaders and church members have treated LGBT people terribly in the past. Today the official stance has softened, but homophobia persists culturally in the Church, and the doctrine essentially leaves few fulfilling options for most gay people.

So, to my mixed feelings on MOMs. I think that on balance it is positive that mixed orientation marriages are being discussed publicly. Over the last few years, in the faithful Mormon community there have been a number of gay or bisexual men who have come out in a very public way about their heterosexual marriages. We can and should be respectful of the personal choices of some gay people to marry the opposite sex. Some of these couples married after discussing homosexuality with their future partners much more than I ever did; that honesty and openness can only be positive for all involved. The recent TLC show has generated a storm of opinions, including a petition to cancel the show. I just don’t agree; while I understand the frustration from gay people who are tired of being pushed around by society, I think having the discussion is healthier than keeping the existence of mixed orientation marriages in the dark.

I also recognize that human beings are complex and all the various combinations of belief, experience, sexuality, and personality make us unique. We can create categories that do an OK job of describing people as a whole – gay, bisexual, straight – but people are still very diverse and none of us fit perfectly into any constructed box. Some gay people are going to be very comfortable and happy marrying someone of the opposite sex. That option may be a very good one for many bisexuals. It is much easier socially, for sure, especially in the past when bigotry against gay people was more pervasive. It is easier to have children in opposite sex relationships. A straight marriage may make family relationships more harmonious.

But, there are a lot of facets to this phenomenon, not just happily-ever-after straight-married gay Mormons. From my own experiences, those of friends and acquaintances I’ve made since coming out, and some scholarly data on MOMs, there are many aspects that make me uncomfortable.

First, is the uncomfortable truth of statistics. Although precise estimates may not exist, most mixed orientation marriages end in divorce. This is true in the broader US population and of recently-surveyed gay Mormons. Estimates of divorce in MOMs range from about 50-85%, which is much higher than divorce rates among first marriages in the overall population. John Dehlin, a Mormon researcher, has compiled a summary of his work on same-sex attraction and MOMs among LGBT Mormons. His findings suggest that MOM divorce rates are 2-3 times higher than that broader population, and that individuals in MOMs tend to have a lower quality of life than gay people in same-sex relationships.

For however long a mixed orientation marriage lasts, it can be emotionally difficult. I wrote at length a few years ago about intimacy (not just sexual intimacy) in an MOM. The emotional difficulties in such a marriage may have nothing to do with the partners – both can be fantastic people – it is just that they are trying to fit themselves into a situation that isn’t quite right for them. For the gay spouse especially, straight marriage can just be a foreign place emotionally.

Separation is not an easy road. It is a very difficult process for all involved – straight spouse, gay spouse, children and extended family. These divorces can have a sort of unique sadness associated with them. Often the spouses still deeply love each other and are still great friends. But their marriages miss enough of the emotional, sexual, and physical connection that they cannot persist indefinitely.

For the small percentage of mixed orientation marriages that last long-term, the sociological research shows that several factors help them do so. First, in the surviving marriages, the same-sex attracted spouse is often bisexual, not strictly same-sex attracted. Secondly, many of these marriages become open marriages where one or both partners may have extra-marital relationships. I assume that arrangement may work for some couples, but it is not what many want over the long-term, and it is wholly incompatible with certain religions like Mormonism.

The second point I feel strongly about is how it seems precarious to ground so much of a marriage decision on religious tenets. I’m not talking about the religious tenets of love, forgiveness, or sacrifice. Rather, I’m talking about hard-line interpretations of ancient texts that claim to know more about human sexuality than modern science. Of the several mixed orientation couples that I have met (or know about), I can think of only two marriages that may not have been motivated initially in largepart by religious views. From my own experience, I know that spiritual beliefs can change over time. In the case of Mormonism – with its very unique worldviews and troubled history – a future change in belief can really mean a large change in one’s whole life. Maybe it took me too long to really learn this, but we marry a person, not tenets, and to mix the two inextricably can lead to pain down the road.

Third, I’m uncomfortable with the positive spin sometimes given to MOMs, because I can’t shake the impression that many of these marriages are fueled to some degree by homophobia. To illustrate, in both the NPR piece and among some of the publicly-out married gay Mormons, there is a trend that many of these men refuse to identify as gay. Acronyms like SGA (“same-gender attracted”) are invented, and labels are eschewed. Rather than identify as gay or bisexual and thereby emphasize the truth that gay behaviors and gay choices come in all flavors, many of these individuals tend to demonize the “gay lifestyle”. Most fundamentally damaging, I think, is the broader message that seems to be foundational to mixed orientation marriage advocacy: gay relationships are just inferior to straight ones. The research I’ve seen doesn’t support that belief.

I’m not wholly reading into the minds of others here. I know unequivocally that homophobia played some role in my decision to get married heterosexually years ago. (It certainly was not the only factor). One of my major motivations to be married was a religious belief that that life path was going to be most acceptable to God. If there were out and accepted gay couples in my church congregations years ago, would I have still have thought that being single or marrying a woman were my only future choices?

Fourth, the precedent. The positive side of stories like the couples in the TLC show is that young people today see that they have options. Because we discuss homosexuality as a society more than ever before, young people can find examples of gay people married to each other, gay people married to straight people, polyamorous relationships, etc. But there can be a heavy negative side too. MOMs can be used by religiously-motivated parents or church leaders to pressure young gay people into heterosexual relationships. They just don’t need the pressure! Statistically, a mixed orientation won’t work for most young gay people. If they are of the minority group that will eventually flourish in an MOM, let them discover that on their own journey in their own time frame!

Finally, I have to ask about the long haul. For the young gay/bisexual Mormons in straight marriages now, what will be of their futures? Where will the outspoken advocates of MOMs be in 10, 20 or 40 years? Personally, I thought I would never come out as long as I lived. But once I accepted my sexuality, I realized gay people have other options and that shifted the psychological dynamic of my marriage. We are disregarding a lot of common sense to think that MOMs are no big deal. If sexual orientation isn’t that important in the decision to marry, why aren’t millions of straight people actively looking for same-sex partners? (By the way, I think that is totally fine, but the fact that it is almost non-existent speaks volumes about the fact that homophobia drives a lot of the pressure for gay people to marry heterosexually.)

In summary, I think we can respect the individual choices of people in mixed orientation marriages, without supporting the institutional homophobia that enables and sometimes encourages gay people to enter into these marriages in the first place. This husband IS gay, and yours might be too.

My only rejoinder is that I've done my best

Coming out is supposed to be a wonderful liberating event, and in many ways it has been. I'm so happy to be myself. But the last three years of my life have been immensely challenging too. I try to stay generally positive on this blog, yet it would be inaccurate to ignore the negative.

My life feels like it is being turned upside down recently, with not much indication that the near future will be much improved. There have been moves and job changes, periods of physical separation from my family, conversations, tough conversations, more conversations, a few close individuals who are angry with me, my broken heart, sorrow that I have hurt my wife, concern for my children, confusion, uncertainty about my career, loneliness.

I'm torn between different visions for my life, lost on a map that is full of courses but almost no details. I'm torn between what my wife wants and what I yearn for deep down. I can't give what others can give to their marriages, but I love my wife so deeply as a friend and as the amazing person that she is. In no way do I want to be a cause of her sorrow, but I want so much to follow my heart, to feel whole, to be myself. I don't know where I am headed in my career. I finished up a very successful term position recently, but my current work feels less rewarding. I don't even have a place that really feels like home anymore. I count 9 places I've slept in 3 states in the last 2 months and that doesn't include camping.

This morning I felt utterly defeated. I probably lost a chance for romance with someone I've become very close to. I had put so much energy into hoping that something would work out for us in the future. He was my first real gay friend (besides my sister), the first stranger I reached out to with some trepidation when I was first coming out and wanted to meet gay people. I fell into feelings for him almost instantly, unexpectedly. He was so integral to my coming out experience, such a positive example of acceptance of himself and of doing his best in a mixed orientation marriage. From practically the very beginning, I talked openly with my wife about these feelings and what occurred in our relationship over time. Emotionally I became very attached - and that process taught me how much emotional attraction is an integral part of my sexuality. I waited and waited as we both had a lot to figure out. I fell into something so utterly natural for me as a gay person and yet it caused so much sorrow for my wife to be a witness to all that unfolded.

Some days I get caught up in the swirl of these emotions of sadness and loss and feel so stuck. In those moments I feel an expectation to make all of the "right" decisions. But this is such an unpredictable journey that I can't keep up with it all. I'm colliding often with my own personal limits. I want to have happy children, a wonderful same-sex relationship, an enduring deep friendship with my spouse who finds comfort in moving on, friends who are proud of me and my choices, a decent job where I contribute meaningfully to the world, and some time for hobbies to enrich my life. But currently it feels like I am barely getting by. My intentions and hard work carry me a ways into positive territory, but the momentum of my past, my confusion, my failings, keep moving me back onto challenging ground.

To have a broken heart, to break another's heart, to feel deep sadness about both - I haven't experienced anything unique that almost every other human will experience. Yet all of these challenges seem to have fallen on me at once. I brought them upon myself though, and when sympathy is in short supply I must acknowledge that I'm the main cause of the mess. My only rejoinder when the spotlight is turned on my life is that I've honestly tried my absolute best at every turn. I can't wait for sunnier days again.

Good-bye, I love you

Carol Lynn Pearson is the godmother of gay Mormons. I’ve never met her, though interestingly enough, I do have a round-about connection. Many years ago, she briefly stayed at my wife’s family’s house in northern California. My mother-in-law, who was then stake Relief Society president, had invited her up to speak to the women in the area.

“Good-bye, I love you” is the story of Carol Lynn and her gay husband, Gerald. They met at BYU, married, and started a family. Though Gerald had had some degree of same-sex experiences prior to marriage, he developed strong feelings for Carol Lynn and wanted to be married. Both Carol Lynn and Gerald were performers. Carol Lynn was also an aspiring poet. Her poems would go on to win awards and she has published many books over the years.

Despite the tenderness of his feelings for Carol, over time, restlessness stirred in Gerald. He grew distant from the Church and had several affairs with men. Carol learned of his unfaithfulness from a friend while Gerald was away. She was devastated. For some time, Gerald had been dropping hints about new ways of thinking about his sexuality and about relationships, but Carol had long believed that Gerald’s experimentation with homosexuality was a thing of the past. Being raised in the ignorance and vilification of gays that was more common 1-2 generations ago, she could just not believe that her husband was of those gays.

The couple tried their best to make their relationship work. They moved to the Bay Area in California from their home in Utah, but there continued to be strains on their marriage. They eventually decided, after about a dozen years of marriage, to divorce. The final pages of Carol Lynn’s poignant book relates their separation and the lives that Carol Lynn and Gerald led over the next several years before his death – independent lives, yet lives intimately intertwined because of their children and their strong abiding friendship.

I’ve known about the Pearson story for awhile, but it was last weekend that I finally read the book. Well written, powerful, honest and with a compelling narrative, it took me less than 2 days to finish. By the end, I was in tears and choked with emotion.

The story of the Pearsons touched me deeply. There are superficial similarities – their dozen years of marriage to my 11; their 4 children to my three; Gerald’s increasing distance from the Church like mine. But there are also other ways that I connected to the story. I can relate deeply to Gerald’s persistent restlessness, for instance, and his insatiable need to capture more from life. I understand the need to search for meaningful male intimacy and the sense that one cannot put that off indefinitely. I also note the strong similarities between Carol Lynn and my wife. Both of these remarkable women seem to have an almost infinitely deep well from which to draw love and compassion for others. Both have dug deep emotionally to make the best out of challenging situations.

Of course my story continues; it is unknown where it will lead. But regardless of romantic matters, if my wife and I can keep love and friendship between us as the Pearsons managed to exemplify, I think we will have done at least one thing well.

Conversations about the future

…some thoughts recorded over the last two months or so which will be edited eternally if they are not posted…

It has been several months now since I have told family members and a number of close friends that I am gay; a few have known for a little longer. I think that I am more eager than my friends to bring up questions about the future of my marriage and family in these conversations. Most friends have thus far shied away from directly offering opinions (if they have them at all). But at certain times I feel the need for feedback, for information and perspective that would help me map the emotional and relationship terrain ahead. Of course I don’t expect anyone to have any solid answers for me. How could anyone possibly be able to figure out all of this out, especially when it has not been directly experienced?

A number of close friends have been pretty direct in private conversations with my wife, however. She is an amazing person who has garnered deep respect from people that know her. One close friend of my wife who has read this blog wondered a while ago why I have not expressed remorse about the difficult situation that I have put her in by marrying her in the first place.

It is true that I have said very little even in private conversation, but I am saddened that our situation is so difficult on my wife. I’ve had some deep emotional experiences thinking about the pain that I have put her through and the uncertainty that she now feels. I’ve made life difficult for her despite her generous protestations that I have been a good husband over the years. Over the course of our marriage I’ve given her the best I am able to offer: honesty, hard work, apologies, adventures, some laughter, and years of setting aside my natural romantic and sexual interests. On the other hand, I’ve not given her things that are really hard for me to offer: complete emotional dedication, marital passion, and complete sublimation of my sexual identity. I truly don’t want her to suffer; one of my guiding spiritual values is to avoid harming others. I’m willing to incur difficulties for others; I am often willing to pull more than my fair share in a relationship.

I truly wish that I had had the courage to confront my sexuality in a more serious way before we were married. I think I did my best at the time. At that time the Church path was such an omnipresent structuring force in my life, that I don’t know how I could have realistically accepted that life might have options for me other than heterosexual marriage or life-long celibacy. Today I think a more courageous decision would have been to forgo heterosexual marriage as a future option for myself. But the missing pieces of cognition at that point in my life were a much deeper understanding of my sexuality, an understanding that faith, time or hard work truly wouldn’t be able to change my sexuality, and a belief that I really could be happy in a same-sex relationship. Those critical points, though so much more transparent to me today, run contrary to two fundamental tenets of the Church that are taught ad nauseam: if you have enough faith anything is possible, and if you are obedient to the commandments, you will be blessed. Steeped in these beliefs, to accept homosexuality was to give in to failure. Church leaders put significant pressure on single guys to get married and not delay starting a family. Some gay Mormons emerge from this pressure cooker choosing a life of celibacy, but I don’t think I ever felt that was going to work for me.

There are times when the spiritual ideal of ‘no harm’ comes in direct conflict with other very important facets of life. How does one prioritize these values and needs? Sexuality and the broader issue of attraction are so integral to the expression of individuality that they cannot be ignored or minimized without substantial effects on the development and well being of a person. Sacrifice is an integral component of deep relationships, but should there be limits? Is it healthy for a marriage to be a relationship where sacrifice is the principal pillar on which it stands?

When a satisfactory compromise of conflicting identities and divergent needs can be found in a mixed orientation marriage, a workable relationship may emerge for both spouses. The usual optimal manifestation of sacrifice in a relationship involves both partners giving some and taking some, but both finding that growth in the relationship compensates for anything that was given up. It is difficult to think of such a compromise when matters of identity and love and self-esteem are involved. Can the gay spouse choose to be half gay or to be half married? Does the straight spouse want or deserve half a companion? Those kinds of options don’t really make much sense in the traditional conception of marriage and monogamous relationships.

It cannot be easy to be a straight spouse married to a gay person. Does the straight spouse doubt her attractiveness, her past decisions, her future dreams, her identity? Does she blame herself for the complex circumstances of a mixed-orientation marriage? I can protest that I am the one with the problem, that our troubles with intimacy are solely due to me, but that does not remove the emotional difficulty that my wife experiences. She is not the source of our challenges, but she a full participant in their consequences. We have both been strongly influenced by a Church culture that emphasizes that faith and obedience can solve anything. But, when faith and hard work fail to heal something that is not broken – when faith and hard work are useful tools applied to the wrong problem – disappointment and frustration can set in.

As we come to a place of greater comprehension about my identity and greater honesty in our relationship, we come to a crossroads as well. Like a scientist with new data, the old ideas should be reassessed. We have to ask of our relationship: what are we fighting for or working towards now? Are we fighting for what is best for us? Are we going to choose one valid existence over another? Are we working to honor someone else’s hopes and dreams for us? Are we fighting mainly for a concept?

Where do we walk from here on out? At some point final decisions will be made and we will move forward. It is not realistic to think that we’ll stay on the fence forever; that is not an outcome that will be emotionally healthy for either of us. While some may disagree with the decisions we will eventually make, I have confidence that those who genuinely care for us and who invest the time to understand the complexity of our situation will wisely leave judgments to us. Coming out involves risks with unforeseen consequences. The world may not yet be sympathetic enough to the gay experience to forgive a gay married man for not getting things right the first time around.

Intimacy in a mixed orientation marriage

I have a good heterosexual friend who has been married for over 10 years. We have been friends for a very long time.  Although he has known about my sexuality for many years, and has a generous, accepting heart, I’ve felt that it has been difficult to convey to him exactly how I feel as a homosexual man in a heterosexual marriage. The landscape of my emotions about this topic are still changing as time passes, but some feelings include loneliness, restlessness, and guilt or frustration that I cannot better meet what appear to be the expectations of a “typical” marriage.

One day while hiking in a beautiful place, I tried to explain my perspective to my friend along these lines (with some present embellishment):

“Imagine that you are married to me. Clearly you like my personality because we are good friends.  However, because of the nature of the marriage relationship, you are going to need to be intimate with me on all levels, not just in ways that friends express closeness. Not once of course, but throughout our lives, in large and small ways, from sex to cuddling in bed in the morning to giving me occasional looks that say ‘I love you in every way I can’. Can you build a life intimately connected to me, maintain at least a good percentage of this intimacy with me for decades to come, and be internally satisfied?”
 
Upon hearing this hypothetical scenario, my friend quickly chuckled. It was not a wholly dismissive laugh, but it was a response that impressed on my mind just how foreign it is for a straight person in a heterosexual marriage to imagine the sort of emotional, sexual, and mental challenges that a gay person faces in mixed orientation marriages. The challenges are omni-present, from those early morning same-sex fantasies when thoughts are largely unfiltered … to social interactions with other heterosexual couples where affection and love seem to flow naturally from one spouse to another in that marriage but are often hard to muster in the mixed orientation marriage … to feeling emotionally drawn to other people on a frequent basis … to feeling some loneliness even when physically close to your spouse.

I think that there is an intimacy ceiling inherent in most mixed orientation marriages. By intimacy, I mean all the ways in which two people can be close: sexually, emotionally, physically, socially, intellectually and spiritually. As gay spouses we hit against this ceiling periodically. Work and other responsibilities generally keep us busy, but then there is an occasion for sex, or a certain emotional crisis in which we want extra support from our spouse, or times when we need to tell the straight spouse how beautiful (s)he is but we just can’t say it with more than an academic understanding and stretched conviction – these are the sorts of times when we hit the intimacy ceiling.

The straight spouses bump against the intimacy ceiling too, but sometimes in different ways. For instance, it may be hard for the straight spouse to understand why his or her expressions of love don’t have a major emotional impact on the gay spouse. It may be difficult to understand why the gay spouse withdraws or needs space or feels a level of emptiness in the relationship. Expressions of physical affection from the gay spouse may be infrequent or seem unnatural. Like the gay spouse, the straight spouse may long for deeper affection and passion in the marriage, or more outwards signs of assurance that the gay spouse is really committed emotionally to the relationship.

The exact location of such a ceiling surely varies from couple to couple (as it does I’m sure for straight or gay same-orientation partnerships). But I suspect that the limitations go deeper – the ceiling is quite a bit lower – in mixed orientation marriages. This seems evident because the capacity of the gay spouse to both give and receive expressions of intimacy in the relationship may be limited. When there are limits present in these relationships (above and beyond what the average couple experiences), extra effort, compromise and compassionate empathy are required. Couples in these relationships may feel that they sacrifice some degree of fulfillment by staying in the marriage. From what I gather, heterosexual marriage is hard enough when even some of the fundamental pieces like sexual attraction and fulfilling non-sexual physical affection are already in place!

Can the ceiling on a mixed orientation marriage be raised? I don’t know. It is a major question inherent in these relationships. Perhaps a key part of the answer lies in the ratio between capacity and expectation. If intimate capacity exceeds expectations or basic needs, then perhaps the relationship can survive and even thrive. If expectations or needs are greater than emotional, sexual or romantic capacity, then perhaps the relationship will not be healthy in the long-term. Capacity and expectations need to be evaluated for each spouse. For the gay spouse, does the capacity to give emotionally, sexually, physically, and spiritually meet the expectations and needs of the straight spouse? For the straight spouse, can he or she bring aspects of love and companionship to the marriage that are fulfilling for the gay spouse?

Each couple in these marriages is different. I strongly suspect that the ability to enhance intimacy in these marriages depends on the personalities of each member of the couple, the degree of homo/bisexuality in the one spouse and the degree of flexibility of the individuals. When the intimacy ceiling can be actually raised to enable greater fulfillment by the partners, great! When individual expectations are lowered too much or needs for intimacy are downplayed to meet a ceiling that cannot be raised, this seems like a less desirable outcome. I think lasting intimacy requires that both spouses can be close to each other in authentic ways.

I hope that as others try to understand mixed orientation marriages, they will be careful to not apply a heterosexual framework in their evaluation of what these marriages should be. If you are straight, go ahead and try a mental experiment. Imagine marriage to your same-sex best friend. Can you make it work? How would you go about it? What aspects would be especially difficult for you? What extra effort, compromise or sacrifice might be needed above and beyond your current romantic relationship or marriage?

Marriage, gays and the Mormon Church: a tangled relationship

The Church and my marriage have a tangled relationship. I joined the Church shortly after high school.  I had a number of concerns about the doctrine, but I put those aside mostly during my first year following baptism. I returned from a mission and had a fairly strong testimony for the next several years.  Fundamentally, if I had not accepted Church teachings to the degree that I did in my early 20s, I may not have even seriously considered marriage. During this period, I wanted close relationships with others, but that effort was principally focused on close friendships with guys. There were also some female friendships as well.  I am generally comfortable around women and have formed some close relationships with females, but it has always been difficult to summon a profound interest in what they are doing and who they are. College and graduate school were a big part of life back then too.

The pressure to find an eternal companion during my mid-20s came from two sources: (1) Church doctrine and pressure from Church leaders (e.g., local leaders encouraging marriage during Sunday meetings) and (2) the fact that many of my close friends and members of my single’s congregation were either married or were actively pursuing that end.  Because this was a period of life were I was very much committed to the Church (and because I tend to be accomplishment-driven), much of my thought was channeled into meeting Church expectations and going along with the program of a typical Mormon male’s life: temple, mission, marriage, kids, and career. I knew something about my sexual inclinations in my mid 20s, but living life as a gay man with a gay partner was something I knew nothing about, so it was never an option in my mind at that stage of life.  I also didn’t want to be left behind as all of my friends began to marry.

So, I found a sweet, wonderful woman and got married.  Did I marry just anyone?  Definitely not.  I married a person with whom I had already formed a close friendship and with whom I was very comfortable on a personal level.  I was attracted to my wife spiritually and socially too.  Physical attraction was not strongly present, but neither was it completely lacking.  I sought out spiritual confirmation of my decision and marriage to this person felt right at the time.  It is interesting to think that perhaps my wife is the only woman I could have or could ever marry.

Today I find myself with a conscience much less sensitive to the pressure of the Church’s programmatic expectations. I have learned to let go of the guilt of disbelief and non-performance. That guilt did not serve to bring me happiness, though the things that I did in response to the guilt may still have brought satisfaction to me and others. Replacing guilt with a more beneficial motivation such as love would be a wonderful way to stay an active and productive member of the Church, but I still lack belief in so much of the doctrine, that I don’t think being too involved in the Church program is going to work for me presently.

If I disentangle the Church from my marriage, what happens? 

First, I think that some of the meta-physical motivations to remain married disappear for me.  For example, I don’t believe that marriage to a woman is required for either happiness here on earth or final admission to God’s presence.  I don’t believe in the extreme anthropomorphic conception of God prevalent in Mormon doctrine that posits the eternal nature of gender and a heavenly social organization that parallels the family structure of humankind.  Rather, as a gay man, I believe I have the potential to form a deep and meaningful union with a man should that opportunity be a part of my future.  That union has the potential to be every bit as edifying as the marriage between a straight man and woman.  Contrary to the narrow interpretation of happiness promoted by the Church, I am now open to the idea that a multiplicity of paths exist that can bring fulfillment to human beings.  For most gay individuals, maximum happiness in human relationships will probably involve intimate relationships with a person of the same sex.

Second, as long as we stay married, my wife and I can move beyond the Church’s heavy-handed role in defining the structure and nature of our relationship. As a mixed orientation couple, we do not have a typical marriage anyway.  Trying to stuff our relationship into the mold that works for some heterosexual couples is likely to bring unnecessary hardship.  For as long as our relationship remains a marriage (I worded that deliberately because I think we will always have a close relationship whether we are formally married or not), we need to make it our own. It needs to fit our needs and our limitations.  As I recall the spirit of the sealing ordinance, it appears that a temple marriage is really supposed to be three way relationship between two mortal partners and God.  Unfortunately, the Church inserts itself as a fourth-party, overseeing and micromanaging the three partners in the relationship.  I don’t really like that; I wonder if God is a little suspicious of the arrangement too.

Finally, if my wife and I decide to separate, we can move beyond the paradigm of failure that might be promulgated by some Church members.  In other words, free from the doctrine of a man-woman union as the only path to God, I would not be obligated to view our marriage as a failure because it did not last our entire mortal lives. As I mentioned above, I think that my wife and I will always have a special relationship.  It is possible that we may grow even closer in some ways as we decide to look for romance elsewhere but remain close friends and partners in raising our wonderful children.  We are totally in control of our reactions to future change, so we can define how successful and happy a potential separation might be.

In all of these thoughts about marriage, a key question remains: are my spiritual impressions to marry in my 20s (when I was in near complete ignorance of homosexuality) going to be necessarily the same kind of inspiration for me going forward?  I think that it is completely within the realm of possibilities that my spiritual promptings to marry my wife were valid earlier in life, but that my future may yet involve another path. I am changing and growing, learning and having new experiences.  And because I can only know the mind of God through my own opaque filters of limited experience and personal weakness, I can only obtain spiritual direction to the degree that I am prepared for the answers.