ColumnistsLipstick Lesbian

Angel Wings

“I’ll be straight for you,” I tease my breeder friends, neighbors and family after they complain how rough it is to be in a relationship with someone who communicates on an entirely different wavelength. It’s hard to feel that bad for them when these people don’t know what it’s like to be on an entirely different wavelength than the majority of society. I say, “Oh, poor baby, I’m sorry he forgot your six-month anniversary.” Meanwhile, I lost my job, got kicked out of my apartment, and was arrested for the crime of kissing my girlfriends’ cheek.

Despite all that, even if I could go back to the pre-existence, I’d tell my guardian angel the same thing: “I want to be a lesbian.”

A huge shocker, I know. Especially since, for 21 years of my short life, all my dreams consisted of a large brick house with an indoor swimming pool, a grand ceremony in the multi-million dollar Temple, a fancy BMW and children who looked just like me. Luckily, the stars I wished upon and the pennies I threw into fountains didn’t posses any semblance of magic.

I’d be lying if I said I’d trade a fancy BMW for my beat-up Chevy. I’d also be lying if I said I would trade an indoor swimming pool for the chance to fly to Washington, D.C and be part of the largest rally ever for equal rights for all families and individuals. And I’d just be making shit up if I said I would trade a gigantic brick house for the opportunity to spend time with the homeless gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender and queer or questioning youth.

Also, I’d be acting absurd if I said I’d rather have spent my time in the Temple than locked in a hospital bed; than traveling through depressed hell dimensions and digging through my soul for spiritual answers when religious patrons told me I was evil, unworthy and better off dead. I prayed over and over for an angel to take away my lesbianism, but of course, that proved to be impossible.

But the jewels of people I’ve met in the past few years are better than any magical coin or commercial product. The knowledge of experiencing firsthand the unyielding, courageous power of people who un-brainwashed their hearts and minds and stood alone while the raging floods and storms of the community at large threatened to tear them apart. Who fought time and time again not to take that overdose when, in that darkened room, they felt no one loved them as they are. The unbelievable sweetness of knowing there is more than one side of Utah.

I’m glad to have escaped the prison of which entrapped me as I attended church on Sundays, Seminary on weekdays and traditional dances on Saturday. Church was a prison for me because I let it be my one and only source of people I loved and understood. It became the tunnel vision of how I saw myself, life and others, until it almost killed me.

I thank my guardian angel every day for letting me learn there is more than one story and to experience the fun, laughter and tears of another side of Utah: bingos led by Cyber Sluts; yearly pride celebrations; candlelight vigils on Mondays; volunteering daily for the ones, like me, who have seen hell and come back; and being in the same courtroom while a loving man who was brutally beaten finally experienced some justice on Friday.

So even if the returned missionary I’d wanted to marry 12 years ago came back to me and offered me his soft hands, I’d turn him away. No matter how cute his kids, sexy his wife, deep his pockets or large his house, I’d tell him, “I’m different now.”

And that I am.

I can’t wait to play with my guardian angel’s wings again soon. She won’t care what car I drove, the color of my credit card or where I got married. She won’t even care who I got married too or even if the only being I gave birth too was a dog child. But, she will care who I caused to cry, who I ignored out of fear, who I turned away and who I truly loved for who they are. And she’ll care the most if I cared about those who felt the worst and had the least.

So, I’ll still tease those around me by saying, “I’ll be straight for you.” But, in my heart I’ll know it’s a lie.

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