I was asked a question the other day and thought maybe others are wondering the same thing.  The way I have my blog set up – I have to approve comments from someone at least two times before they are automatically posted.  I did this because on other blogs that I have read regarding this subject I’ve seen some really hateful comments with really bad language and I didn’t want that on my blog.  So the question posed to me was, “Will you ever post negative comments that you get?”  My answer is “yes.”  As long as the person is respectful in their comment I will post it.  I want this blog to be an avenue to start conversations.  I want it to be a support to others going through the same thing.  If I don’t “keep it real”, then I don’t see the point in doing it. I know not everyone is going to agree with what I write…and that’s ok.  My main objective is to let people know that they aren’t alone.  Going through this can be very isolating.  I also hope to create some understanding. Since I’ve started this blog, three people have contacted me regarding their own family members, or friends who have family members who are gay.  I don’t know if I will be able to help them, but just the fact that they reached out made me do this:

So if you have questions, please ask me.  If you don’t feel comfortable asking in the comment section, you can ask me on the Contact page.

When I was a little girl, I ran into things a lot.  My mom was always telling me to watch where I was going and my response was always “I didn’t see it.” Turns out my vision was poor, my depth perception was off, and I had to start wearing glasses when I was four.  I was always small for my age and unfortunately as I got older the trend for glasses was the bigger the better.  I became known as “the girl with big glasses” and was teased a lot.  I couldn’t wait until I could get contacts.  I was so tired of the “four eyes” comments. Back then, the doctors made you wait until you were 15 (apparently that is when your eyes stop growing – or that’s what they thought back then).  As soon as I turned 15, I was in the eye doctors office getting my contacts.  They were really expensive back then and they were a lot of work.  There was the nightly cleaning, the little machine that you would put them in to “cook” them overnight, the weekly protein deposit cleaning.  It was a big commitment, but I hated my glasses so much it was well worth the work. Because they were so expensive and I really didn’t want to wear glasses, I was ultra paranoid about losing them.  And those buggers would sometimes just pop right out of my eye…at the most inopportune times. Like the time I had to stop traffic in the middle of a busy road and get down on my hands and knees  to look for a rogue contact and the time they had to stop the music and turn on the lights at a homecoming dance to look for one.  Very embarrassing.  I was so self conscious about my glasses, that once I got contacts, I wouldn’t even go get the mail with them on.  I would have given anything to have perfect vision like my friends.

Here’s a picture of me with my glasses…(now I’m really putting myself out there)

Today I know people who wear glasses as a fashion statement.  They don’t even need glasses.  Contacts have come a long way too…they aren’t as much work and now they have colored contacts so you can completely change the color of your eyes.  Now in the grand scheme of things, having to wear glasses is not the end of the world.  But as a teenage girl, who felt like boys didn’t like girls in glasses, it was a big deal.  I was fortunate that there was something I could do to change how I felt about myself.  Unfortunately, there are some things that can’t be changed about ourselves, and are harder to hide. It’s even harder when people think you are making a choice. Think about this:

So imagine being an adolescent and realizing that you are attracted to the same sex.  Imagine desperately wanting to change that, but you can’t.  Society tells you that you can, but you’ve tried with no success, and hiding it gets more and more difficult.  Now I realize that there are some people who go through this that are totally accepting of themselves right away.  I thank God for that and it gets me teary eyed just thinking about it. My son’s experience was one of self hatred and depression.  It’s taken six years for him to climb out of the pit he put himself into.  It breaks my heart that anyone goes through that.  It’s sad to me to think that people feel like they need to hide who they are to be accepted (makes wearing ugly glasses seem so trivial now).  It causes a lot of pain.  My son knows kids who have been kicked out of their homes because they are gay.  He knows others whose parents pay them to act straight. And these parents are Christians.  Being gay is not easy. Obviously not everyone has bad experiences, but there are a lot of people who do.  And the thought that they choose to be gay is like me saying I choose to have bad vision.

I still wear contacts, but I also happily wear my glasses too.  And I’m happy to say that my son accepts who he is now.  I just hope that his experiences have not closed the door to God forever.   As Christians, we may be the only glimpse of Christ that people experience.  Shouldn’t that be a good experience??

You know how people in dangerous situations say, “my life flashed before my eyes”…I believe when Jesus was on the cross our lives flashed before his eyes.  And he said, “yes Father…I give my life for them ALL.”

Love each other…because love matters.

I thought I’d post a little earlier than I usually do to talk about my wedding since today is my 25th wedding anniversary (I got married when I was 10)…well not really (smile).  When I was a little girl, I knew that I wanted to grow up and get married some day.  Now I wasn’t the type to collect pictures and ideas along the way, but I did think about it.  I’m a simple girl…most comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt and I hate getting dressed up, but I have to admit wedding dress shopping was a lot of fun.   So this post is for all the soon to be brides out there.

There is a lot of planning that goes into most weddings and mine was no different. You have the dresses, the venue, the flowers, the cake, etc, etc, etc.  Well this is how mine went….

I went to get my hair trimmed a week before the wedding and the person cut 4″ off.  My hair looked sooo different, and I was really upset because it didn’t feel like me.

Two days before the wedding I got really sick, went to the doctor, and found out I had strep throat.  That same day I checked in with the dress shop because they were behind on my alterations.  They assured me that my dress would be ready the next day.  They told me that they would call when it was ready.  I waited all day, but no word from the shop.   I called them early evening only to find out that they had just closed the shop for the day. My wedding dress was in the shop and my wedding was the following morning.  They said they would send it over to the tuxedo shop next door that was open a tad bit later then they were and I had to run there to get the dress.

The next morning (the day of the wedding) I noticed that the address for the church on the wedding invitation was wrong.  It was close.  I can’t remember the exact address, but it was something like 101, but should have been 1001.  A simple thing to miss.  So, I was worried that no one was going to find the church.

When the photographer got to my house, it was obvious to see that he had broken his ankle.  The pictures took much longer than they should have and he informed me that he couldn’t go to the reception, but would send his assistant.  Let’s just say he didn’t seem as experienced as our photographer.

My limo was late, therefore I was late getting to the church.

Just as we were getting ready for the first bridesmaid to walk down the aisle, the organ made a horrific sound and stopped working.  So, all the girls AND my dad and I walked down the aisle in silence.

We had talked with the priest who married us beforehand and let him know that we wanted to take a cloth and wrap our hands (it is a tradition from another culture, but don’t remember what it is called – sort of like tying the knot).  When we got to that point in the service, he basically tossed it to us and said, “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with this.”

At the reception, the DJ got the names of the bridal party wrong and actually announced my best friend as the bride.

We gave a list to the DJ of songs that we wanted played during the reception one of which was a tribute to my grandmother who had passed away 3 years earlier.  I wanted to dance to one of her favorite songs with my grandfather.  The DJ waited until the reception to tell me that he didn’t have the song…right as my grandfather and I were getting ready to do the dance.  I asked if he had any Engelbert Humberdinck because that was one of my grandmother’s favorite singers.  He said he did. Unfortunately, I didn’t ask him what song he had of Engelbert’s.  My grandfather and I went to the dance floor and…

The DJ played “Please release me” which lyrics go like this:

Please release me, let me go
For I don’t love you anymore
To waste our lives would be a sin
Release me and let me love again

What a song for a tribute!

It rained….and…

We found out shortly after our wedding that the priest who married us allegedly murdered a nun because she found out he was molesting girls (story here).  They made a Netflix documentary about it.

Now obviously this was not a perfect wedding.  But you know what…we have funny memories.  If it was perfect, we wouldn’t have the stories to share with our kids.  So brides…don’t sweat it.  In the long run, it really doesn’t matter.  And 25 years later we are still happily married.