After an extremely encouraging discussion with a friend the other day I realized that I love being gay. Here’s how it happened.

(That sounds like one of the intros to my column…)

Not to leave you in the lurch about recent happenings in my life, but this one buoyed me up in a way that few things have of late.

An old friend and I got to talking about homosexuality, which is something from which, tragically, our conversations have shied away. “That is one of the great tragedies in our friendship,” he said. I agreed. And we talked.

I never, ever, want to tell someone what to think. Because I don’t think that is what we are here to do for (to) one another, despite the way people like James Dobson and Condolleezza Rice have of stating the opposite. I believe that we are here to help one another. We are here to help one another find out who we are, and what our answers are. All my better Christian friends are going, “Oh dear. He’s given up on absolute truth.”

Not at all. But I have given up on the idea that the most important duty we have to one another is to say whatever it is we think is wrong with the people in our lives. I learned this lesson in many ways. One of them was through coming out.

A lot of really amazing shit was said to me when I came out, and most of that by people who love me, and who have loved me well for my whole life. One of the worst things that was said to me was that I was going to “lose my community.” This was a terrible thing to hear, because 1) it was my biggest fear, and 2) I could see it happening. If everyone in my life knew that I was gay and no longer going to try to hide that or reject it, then they might not want to be friends with me anymore. How scary is that?

We all have things like that inside us, I believe. But for most of us, it is much darker, and not pertinent to our future happiness, that we give these things voice. We don’t go around telling our friends that we recently thought of what it would feel like to stand on a rooftop with a high-powered rifle and begin shooting into the loitering crowd. Not that you’ve thought this. You probably haven’t. I’m sure you’re fine, anyway. I won’t tell.

But being gay is treated like that by the culture. It’s treated like something horrible and wrong, when in truth, it is something that I wouldn’t give up.

To go to the inevitable cult-culture place:

I was watching an episode of “Angel” recently in which Cordelia is given the chance to give up the visions she has of people in trouble, and in exchange to receive a life of fame and fortune. In the end she decides to keep the visions, because despite the fact that they cause her torturous physical pain, she uses them to help people in need, and for that, the pain is worth it.

I feel like that about being gay. My friend and I were discussing “ex-gay” ministries, and solutions to the “problem,” and I told him that even if it were possible to change, I wouldn’t want to. I don’t think I need to. I don’t believe for one tiny second that God wants me to, because since I came out He has used me – my writing, my associations with people who are closeted, or whose family members are coming out – to wage some serious good fight. I don’t think that Jesus gives a piss who I fall in love with as long as I abide by my version of the Golden Rule: “Don’t be an asshole, and make sure to share your soup.”

Soup in this case being not only the nourishment with which you are overflowing, but also the mire in which we find ourselves daily; by sharing our troubles and struggles we may unwittingly clue someone in to the fact that they are not as alone as they feel. Give to people what you wish others would give you, because then it will be out there, in the world.

Coming out has helped me do these things in a way I wasn’t quite prepared for. It has, paradoxically, given me a new boldness not only to speak truth and stand up for myself, but also a great empathy with other people who suffer and are oppressed. These people, I believe, are gearing up to wage a new kind of Good Fight. I’ve believed for a long time that waging wars through manipulation and violence is not the answer, and everywhere I look I see people’s eyes opening to this truth: inclusive religious communities are staging protests on Saturday, then on Sunday, after worship, taking food and volunteers to the homeless shelter. Progressives are writing books and songs and making films. Hell, even – through some kind of freakish full-moon thing – Bush and Blair are getting in on the act and trying to work out a debt-relief plan for Africa! Africa! I mean – and I am absolutely sure that all your better bloggers don’t say this, but – can you believe that shit?

Despite all the hardship, God has been majorly showing off of late.

I’m working 7 days a week. Yowza. But my Monday to Friday, 8-5 job is great. I’m working as a secretary for Upward Bound and teaching a couple classes for them. Weekends are spent at the University of Oklahoma pool, where I am sitting as I write this. That’s nice because it’s easy and all the cute people walking past my window all day makes me inspited to keep working out. My family drama has calmed and everyone seems to tired to do naught but get along. I like that in a family: docility.

Pride is two weeks away. Oklahoma City Pride is probably my favorite weekend of the year. Dylan will be in town for 11 days during that time, which will be great. My only regret is that we didn’t call in time to reserve a room at the Habana Inn. But Julian is flying back to OKC for the weekend, so beloved friends will negate any wrongness. Beloved friends tend to do that; this is why you need them.

There’s always something sinister a-brewin’; always some problem waiting to spring forth from the shadows and attack. So I’m going to live in the present, in this breath and the next, where things are calm and happy. And I’m going to pray the same for you.

Last thing then I’ll shut up:

This probably won’t work, but I want to try it anyway. This year, the Oklahoma Gazette’s “Best of OKC” awards include a vote for “Best Blog.” I want as many people as possible to nominate this blog, so that the OK Gazette people will realize what a literary treasure (snicker) they have under their noses. I think you may be able to vote online. If not, you OKC people pick up a copy of the Gazette pronto and vote. Ballots are due June 22.