What PRIDE means to me - Part 6

I am learning to love my frailty.

Strength is often seen as the absence of weakness. Bravado is a rewarded behavior, no matter how politically correct the individual. Big trucks and beating your wife may be the obvious extreme of false strength, but so is being tired. In a modern era of digital power, an overloaded schedule and constant emotional objectivity are in vouge. "Work Hard, Play Hard" translates that "hard" equals "good". If effort is the way to happiness then very busy people would be the happiest of all. From my experience this is not true.

My schedule is one of these overloaded presumptions that effort will mean reward. But in this case, I want to talk about the effort of never looking weak about being gay. Who do I go to when I think I'll be alone forever? Generally I write about it, with the appropriate amount of thought put into it to see the light at the end of the tunnel. There are few who care to hear it, though the sympathy generally may be strong. But, there are many more, those very close, for whom every word and idea I communicate must be perfectly executed. When I have slipped and been too sad, it has been turned around on me to say basically, this is your own fault.

Frailty is part of the human condition and I am now learning to deal with the idea that I am not invincible. Even more, my weakness is being turned into a different kind of strength. I did this with Bi-Polar disorder and now, though every month it overwhelms me again, it allows me to connect with people to an incredibly deep level. It is an honor to share my story of pain and confusion to help people know they are not alone, and to dispel confusion around mental conditions generally. You'd be amazed how many people have a brother, aunt, friend or parent with bi-polar that they have never really gotten to talk about.

Homosexuality is like that, though still barred behind many more fences as the current "other" of society. I have faith that gay people will not be subjected to mass execution, but I know it will be a few steps more before the passive hysteria is dispelled. I see my sexuality like I see my mind, like I see my faith; as something inherent to me that has caused me great pain in a world of fear and hate, but that is a strength when free of manipulation.

At church last week the pastor talked about the difference between positional and experiential freedom. We are free in Christ, the shackles are broken and jail door open. But to let down our hands and walk out of the jail is a process. I am out as a gay man, free of the closet that kills so many, whether physically or mentally. But I still have steps to take and a body to reposition for a life in that freedom. No abusive therapy will force me back into that jail cell, but I still need help. When I am tired and weak and do not want to deal with the pain it often sucks that the only help I have is a paid therapist and God and one or two friends. Even with this I am fortunate.

From what I have experienced, the more I am open and authentic the greater my freedom. I may continue to be judged when I run out of steam or fall. In the end, I'm learning to love the person God created, even the frail human parts.