ok warning: if you are over-stuffy and prefer not to acknowledge inconsistencies that may exist in the Good Book (and we all know I denied them my whole life), then please do not watch this video and go back to your shrimp cocktail and stoning your children for disobedience. thanks. (but this is just tooooo funny!)

from Kyrsten Sinema’s blog:

I’m no avid supporter of war—camo doesn’t look good on me—but I recently came across a story about an openly gay lieutenant who is fighting to repeal “don’t ask, don’t tell.”

Last week, Lt. Dan Choi appeared on CNN’s American Morning. He is facing dismissal from the military after graduating from West Point, learning Arabic to help while in war, and serving in Iraq. Lt. Choi obviously didn’t take notes from season five of The L Word, and won’t be pulling a Tasha. He’s fighting for his right to serve and is asking that “don’t ask, don’t tell” be repealed.

Instead of playing the discrimination, bigotry, and unaccepted card, Lt. Choi is focusing on values: dishonesty vs. honesty. Which got me wondering, “Dan, have you been reading my book?” While there might be a handful of dishonest people in the world, most of us would agree that deceit is not something that we value. Lt. Choi is taking the approach that “don’t ask, don’t tell” should be repealed because it forces people to be dishonest, to lie about who they are. And those that are protecting our country should not be forced to lie or to give up their dreams and commitments.

Unfortunately, his case has been repealed, but he has taken to the media to help spread his message.

to Lt. Choi I heartily say: thank you for standing up for your rights–for the rights of all of us–whether we are serving our country, working on its infrastructure, participating in commerce, raising a family, or just living life. I love the fact that this man is saying, “hey, you are asking me to hide my authentic self! you are presuming that my authentic self will somehow put my fellow soldiers at risk! you are WRONG! i am a great, talented soldier who loves his country and is willing to die for it. my orientation is but a part of my identity! but it IS part of me!”

*AUGH* all the years spent lying, pretending to be who we’re not…! ENOUGH!!!

It is time for all people to be able to live their lives–and serve their country–in peace, without experiencing discrimination, no matter what gender, ethnicity, or orientation!

for me–while i’m not serving our country–coming out has given me so much peace by letting me be my authentic self. (not that it was a huge shock or anything.) but finally, i live my life with that type of authenticity. YES, it cost me a LOT of friends. but to no longer have to hide, feel judged or inferior…it has been such a blessing. and guess what?!! God still loves me!  because what I realize is that I am truly fearfully and wonderfully made–every bit of me–and I am the same tdub as before–creative, fun, vibrant, a-bit-of-an-ass, loving, strong, hard-working (i must point out these are adjectives my friends have used to describe me haaaahahaaahaaa)–but no longer afraid, closeted, shameful, weak.

WHY should our servicemen have to hide?! Are we really that stone-age …AGAIN? (Remember the struggle of women and African Americans in this country!)

Oh and one other note:  the fact that I look good in camo has nothing to do with this opinion!

best of luck Lt. Choi and to every man and woman fighting this battle the world over.

i don’t know what to think.

i want to be happy that my marriage was upheld—even though it’s not recognized by the state i live in.

but…now i’m in this weird group that other gays cannot get into. i am in a group of people who do have the right to marry…but any other same-sex couple is left out (unless you go to iowa, vermont, etc.)

i also know change takes time. rome wasn’t built in a day, blahblahblah.

i just think it’s sad that a majority of people get to decide what rights the minority get to enjoy. i guess that’s how it’s always been, huh?

but it will come.

right?

…these comments.

(for those of you who may not go back to old posts to see who’s commented…)

I ran into a couple of old friends the other day. (Ok not old as in aged. Two of them are older than me but are among some of the most youthful and vibrant people I’ve ever known.)

One was a married couple I hadn’t seen in over 2 years—since the day I came out to the husband.

A few weeks ago, after lamenting here and there about some of my hurt, I finally summoned up the courage—after a couple conversations with one of their daughters and with grace—and contacted them. The wife replied and added to her email

We miss you too, Todd, and we’ll never stop loving you.

GOSH THAT WAS SO GOOD TO HEAR. Ice broken. With her at least.

So fast-forward to Monday: I’m trying to get the folks at the Apple store to fix #2’s broken iPod. Dejected, I’m perusing iPhones on my way out and actually walked right past them, completely oblivious that they were sharing the same retail space. In fact, he was the one who purposefully sought me out after I walked by. The point is: they could have easily ignored me and the opportunity.  But they did not.

It was so wonderful seeing them, catching up, hearing about their lives and the lives of their children and her dad. You see, the casualty of this relationship was among the worst things to have happened when I came out. Their family was our family; Grace and I still mourn the loss of what we had with them, of what my journey cost us all.

There’s obviously still a lot of pain there, on both sides. But when we met the other day, they were both so kind and listened intently and shared enthusiastically. (To an extent, I did feel “studied” by him, but not in an ugly way. It was as if he were trying to gauge my thots, whether I was happy or expressed regret—I dunno. Just a feeling I got.)

In a sense, it was as if these two years of estrangement hadn’t happened. They were so kind, so exactly the same people I always knew and loved. They smiled the same. Laughed the same. Shared the same. Inquired the same. Listened the same. And hugged the same.

Not that I expected them to really be any other way.

I always knew, despite the separation, that they—and their brood—cared (and care) about me and my family. It was just good to feel it again.

I know, too, that things will never be the same again. But I’ll gladly take what I get and be thankful for it.

Then, not ten minutes later, happenstance led me to run into another old friend—the big sister of a blog lurker/sometimes commenter—in the parking lot. She immediately greeted me with hugs, smiles, and inquiries about the boys. And with a brief comment about her own life experience, she also provided me with a great deal of encouragement dealing with an occasionally wayward child by reminding me that they often find their way back. [I even got to say hi to the sister she was on the phone with when we saw each other!]

What’s the point of all this? I dunno…I guess I finally grasped that people are able to dispense grace [and forgiveness?] at their own pace and it’s wrong of me to assume that they’re ungraceful/unforgiving/unloving [not that I did necessarily] just because of distance and separation and silence. (Perhaps they’ve thought the same about me?)

And that just because people don’t necessarily agree with each others’ decisions—which goes both ways—love, the real God-kind, can still exist between them.

And for that, I consider myself reminded, corrected, and thankful.