Thursday, January 29, 2015

Spirituality

I think I mainly need to vent what's been going on in my head the last 24 or so hours.

So last night we finally met with the Bishop.  It's been almost 8 months (last time was at our home when he came with the Stake President on April 30) since he last met with us.  It didn't go well.  A few times, I closed my eyes, concentrated on my breathing, and calmed down.  In order for us to get sealed, he wanted me to work on at least two things.  He's noticed I've been wearing female slacks to Church and asked if I wear female temple garments.  I can't do either.  What I didn't tell him, is that I'm out at work.  He kept telling me that I'm a man, that my gender is eternal.  He talked about "the doctrine" mainly in reference to cross dressing not allowing me to dress, for us to get sealed, etc.

I did commit to wearing only male clothing at Church.  That's going to be very difficult.  On most Sunday's it has been a tremendous struggle just to get dressed and go to Church.  The past few Sundays, I wore a necklace and no tie with my white button-up female shirt and either of my pairs of black female slacks.  I've been wearing nylons and doing whatever else to feel as comfortable as possible in order to just go to Church.  I'd rather stay at home than have to wear a suit and tie or anything else so starkly male.  In short, I have to show him that I'm a man in order for him to approve our sealing request.  But I'M NOT A MAN!  He wants me to lie to the world and to God just so that he and the rest of the world are comfortable with my predefined, socially- and culturally- accepted gender norms and cues.

I think he's finally convinced that I need the hormones.  Since it had been so long since he last met with us, we updated him on the last year.  We shared how for most of the year, almost every night I had physical attacks during the night.  As soon as I got back on the hormones, they practically stopped.  In my journal, Heather noticed that the urgency, need, and desire for SRS was so intense when I was off of hormones.  Back on hormones, I'm depressed less often and less intensely, I'm less angry.  I'm happier.  My journal entries reflect the change too.

I mentioned that he hadn't met with us for a long time, that I felt that he was ignoring us when in reality I knew he wasn't.  In true jerk fashion, he turned it back on us saying we hadn't done anything to reach out to him.  Back in September or so, he talked to my wife as part of a calling he extended to her.  He said he wanted to meet with us soon but NEVER did.  I felt the ball was in his court, but then he goes and faults US?!  I didn't mention about his inability to face us and tell us that we couldn't get sealed (when we were pushing to get sealed on our first anniversary).  That he didn't have the wherewithal, "the balls," to tell us "no", but that he had to drag the stake president to our home and have him do it.

He asked one question that I've been pondering since our meeting.  "How has your testimony been over the last year?"  Wanting to please and give the "right" answer, I immediately responded that my testimony has grown.  But later I thought about it some more.  This last year (2014) when I was off of hormones, my testimony of the Church has all but disappeared.  My testimony of the Gospel, of God, of Christ as our Savior, of prayer, of Joseph Smith, etc. has remained steadfast and grown.  But I just don't want to go to church. I sustain President Monson as God's prophet and love watching General Conference in April and October.  But going to church every week, having to present a fake version of myself, feeling like I'm useless and not a part of the ward is the hard part.  I've been making a concentrated effort to pray for my church leaders, for my local leaders, even for my bishop.  My prayers have improved the last couple months both in sincerity and frequency.  My scripture study has been a struggle.  Sure, we read the scriptures every night as a part of the kids' bedtime routine, but personal scripture study has been erratic.

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