Sparkle, thoughts and words and deeds

I at last got around to booking a hotel in Manchester for the weekend of July 11th.

Why this date?

Because this is when Sparkle 2010 is due to happen … you can read all about it here: http://www.sparkle.org.uk/

I was a little underwhelmed by Sparkle 2009, but I’m putting that down to the fact that I kind of just turned up at it without giving much thought as to what I’d do. This year I’m planning to … well … plan it.

Today during my lunchtime walk I was thinking about things that we tell each other and things that we don’t. And the difference that it makes.

Initially I was thinking about people that I know that, for one reason or another have partners that are unaware of their dressing habits.

Whether or not a partner knows has a big impact upon some things. What clothes can I buy? Where do I keep them? Where do I get changed? Where do I put makeup on? How thorough do I have to be in taking it off? Can I shave my legs … my arms. All kinds of things.

For myself, I know that life became much easier when the whole thing was no longer a secret at home.

And yet … it wasn’t an easy thing to begin to talk about.

In many ways the things that led me to a position where I needed for my wife to know were all tied up with feeling that whatever the risks were - the stresses and strains involved in keeping the secret were worse than the risks.

Of course, hindsight helps. Sally has coped with this whole thing better than I ever could have hoped for. And life in the “now” is better than it was in the “then” – for us both, I believe.

By and large, other people that know of Andrea have also been more accepting of things than I would have believed possible. Sally told me that she had chatted with her sister about things. We spent a few days visiting her sisters family a few weeks ago and though the topic was never raised, there was no sense at all of any awkwardness. In fact, almost the reverse.

But I know, things could have been very different. I understand why some girls aren’t in a position to tell their partners.

As I thought about these things, I also thought about the kind of things that I write here in this blog.

Several people that I know read it – people that I chat with online, tgirls that I know, my wife.

This, I know, influences the kind of things that I write about.

It' made me think of the stories in the news a few weeks back where people have been dismissed from work because of things that they said about their jobs on Facebook.

So far as I know, no one from work knows about Andrea – though maybe my fingernails are unusually long and shiny. But work is fine so I don’t feel a need to sound off about it.

There are, though, things that are not said because of the people that will hear them. And, I think, this is how it should be.

To me it’s associated with an unintended consequences kind of thing. Some things are better left as thoughts that are forgotten. They are better not put into words. Better not acted upon.

Thoughts are not the same as words or deeds.

This reminds me of a time in the past when I had this notion that the “thinking” was as bad as the “doing”. And some people give the impression that they believe this still. Take a look at this for example: http://www.evangelicaloutreach.org/lust.htm. Part way through it are these words from the Sermon on the Mount:

But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed ADULTERY with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into HELL.

and then, commenting on this:

Nowhere is this form of adultery, though solely mental, less serious than other forms, although many treat it as such

I think this interpretation is missing something. It all depends on the perspective. Whatever Jesus meant when he said what he said, it is self evident that the thought is not the same thing as the deed.The outcomes are different. The consequences are not identical … especially for the woman.

In the same way a thought is different in its consequences than the words.

I know I’m not alone in having said things that I wish had never been put into words. Unthinking something is more of a possibility than unsaying it.

And yet, having said all this, the opposite is also true … some things that never get beyond the thinking really should be expressed as words and actions.

And there are things that are even better if they are left unthought.

Better than chocolate?

Here in the UK there has been a lot in the news about expenses and allowances being claimed by MPs (Members of Parliament as opposed to Military Policemen).

An especially prominent story has been that of Jacqui Smith, the Home Secretary who accidentally included a bill for pay-per-view movies in an expense claim. Some of the details are at http://women.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/women/relationships/article6005065.ece

The story seems to be especially newsworthy because the movies were of the “adult” variety. It’s almost as if some people think that it wouldn’t have been so bad if the movies in question had been “family entertainment”.

I’ve commented on pornography in a few other posts already, I know, but the article at the Time Online web site prompted me to some more thinking.

The expense / allowance claim thing isn’t the issue that I’m especially thinking about. The rights and wrongs of claiming the cost of a pay per view movie as an expense are all tied up with the rules and regulations about what is an allowable expense for a parliamentarian.

I do feel a lot of sympathy for both Jacqui Smith and her husband over the meal that the media have made over the porn aspect of the whole thing, though.

I’m not aware of anyone suggesting that what was being viewed was illegal to watch in the UK. So why all the fuss about it being pornography?

Well – just because it is pornography, I guess.

How many people … guys in particular … use pornography?

There was a time when I thought that I was alone in this … at least when I was still attending  Church.

But the statistics seem to say I’m not … and I never have been.

Of course, there are lies, damned lies and statistics. But these statistics seem to be genuine.

I had spent many years feeling guilty and shameful about this.

I’ve read the arguments against it.

Like many arguments, I feel ther are elements of truth – but it’s not all true.

There is an article at http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2003/nov/08/gender.weekend7 that includes these snippets:

the musician Moby, [who] once said in an interview, "I like pornography - who doesn't?

But is it as simple as this? One of my best friends is a man for whom pornography has apparently never held even the slimmest interest. Moby may choose to distrust him, but his sex life otherwise has always seemed to me perfectly robust. He is, however, so much in the minority as to seem almost an oddity.

A little later, it continues:

Bill Margold, one of the [porn] industry's longest-serving film performers, was interviewed in 1991 by psychoanalyst Robert Stoller for his book Porn: Myths For The Twentieth Century. Margold made no attempt to gloss over the realities. "My whole reason for being in this industry is to satisfy the desire of the men in the world who basically don't care much for women and want to see the men in my industry getting even with the women they couldn't have when they were growing up. So we come on a woman's face or brutalise her sexually: we're getting even for lost dreams."

But it really isn’t as simple as that. Whatever Bill Margold’s reasons were for being a part of the porn industry, he wasn’t satisfying those kinds of desires for me. I know that it is not true that all users of pornography “don’t think much of women”. It isn‘t true that they all are trying to get even with women that they couldn’t have. It would be a lie to suggest that we are all making an attempt to get even for lost dreams.

There are women, I guess, that I am envious of … they have much better figures than I do … though I have been told that my legs are quite nice.

Of course, Edward Marriott, the author of the article doesn’t actually say that these things are true of all men that use pornography. But neither does he suggest that it might not be the case.

The article in Times Online includes this:

“I know of at least one case where a husband went to a wife and said: ‘We are no longer having sex. I love you very dearly. I want to honour your choice not to have sex. Rather than have an affair I want to tell you that I am going to use internet porn.” She cried a lot and she said to me ‘I'm glad he was honest with me and in the end I had to say thank you, this is a real sign of love'.”

I understand this. Empathise with it. Understand that it’s not easy.

I have read of the evils that pornography leads to. And yet, as I have written before, I know these are not inevitable outcomes. I have no more desire to brutalise women than I have to stab people with kitchen knives.

My own feelings are that it’s a great shame that the media felt a need to emphasise the fact that Jacqui Smith’s husband is a user of pornography. I mean … I get the feeling that it would be more newsworthy if he didn’t use it.

Fair enough … if people in public office are cheating on expenses then I can see how an argument can be made about public interest.

But really, I’m tempted to think the pornography angle is really about a totally different kind of public interest.

Like many things in life, I think that a person’s views on pornography are shaped, to some extent at least, by more than just pornography. Some people are influenced by the Bible or the Koran. Others by bad experiences that they have had. Others by good experiences. It’s not simple. Life isn’t simple.

A few words from Emily Saliers (Indigo Girls):

We're sculpted from youth
The chipping away makes me weary
And as for the truth
It seems like we just pick a theory
And it's the one that justifies
Our daily lives
And backs us with quiver and arrows
To protect openings
Cause when the warring begins
How quickly the wide open narrows
Into the smallness of
Our deconstruction of love
We thought it was changing
But it never was
It's just the same as it ever was

In the end, different people are … well … different. Not everyone enjoys playing golf. Not everyone likes to go overboard with the makeup. And things aren’t always how people might predict that they would be. At home it tends to be me that goes overboard with the makeup whilst my wife goes way, way, way overboard with the golf.

It isn’t a foregone conclusion that chocolate is better than pornography. It depends on who you ask.

Swans and plans

Last night was a Surrey Swans evening. The first one of Spring. I’m told that this can be significant because it’s the first one of the year that involves travelling to the venue in what still is, just about, daylight.

I remember the first little dash that I made from the front door to the car door in daylight with a dress and makeup on. Heart rate was definitely a little faster than normal. It’s quite a challenge.

I’ve no real idea what the neighbours have seen of Andrea. No one has said anything.

A tgirl that I know that is separated from her partner did tell me once that, after the separation, the partner had commented on the fact that she’d seen the new girlfriend driving the car around town. In fact, the new girlfriend wasn’t a girlfriend … she was the tgirl. Maybe it’s only a matter of time before someone asks who the strange blonde woman is that keeps popping in and out of the house?

It was, as ever, good to see people and to chat. The chance to dress and makeup means more to me and makes more difference to me than I often realise. It seems like hassle sometimes … shaving and makeup are definitely hassle. But there’s something about the whole experience … a kind of transformation … that makes it more than worthwhile.

It was nice to get to know Tanya a little and to share something of our own experiences. Our wives have quite a lot to get to grips with.

A date is now set for Susan, Julia and myself to call in at the bridal wear shop for a trying-on evening.

Claire, who works at the shop came across this blog and emailed me ages ago asking if I and a few friends might fancy an evening at the shop trying things on and maybe buying something if there was anything we especially liked. It’s taken a while, but, at last,  April 23rd is the date.

I bought a pair of white shoes last week in the hope that they’ll go well with the dresses … oh and also a pair of pink ones. My male counterpart has never had so many shoes as Andrea. Most TV’s that I know share the same excessive shoe experience. I think the evening will be a lot of fun … 

Swans and Brides

Last Sunday, being the last one of the month, was a Surrey Swans get together.

I first visited there way back in July 2007 or thereabouts. I enjoy it a lot. I’ve always found it to be a lovely friendly and accepting kind of environment. Just as are the TV dinners.

Billie and Cathie are people that have helped me a lot. Both Surrey Swans and the TV dinners are things that they organise. And I know quite a few tgirls ... including myself ... who’s wives or partners have had a chance to get a first opportunity to meet another TV in an atmosphere where they didn’t feel outnumbered.

In fact, there are many people now that have helped me a lot through their acceptance of the alternative kind of me.

I spent a while chatting with Laura. All kinds of stuff. How nice it might be to have a how to apply makeup hints and tips evening. There’s a lot we can learn from each other I’m sure ... Laura’s eyes are especially immaculate. The challenges and the pleasures associated with the whole tgirl thing. Reminiscences of Pink Punters and Sparkle. And some of the whole tgirl philosophy kind of thing. The why’s and wherefore’s. We don’t really have answers other than knowing that it’s a part of who we are.

I come up with the idea that it would be fun to practice putting makeup on my wife. There is still some way to go on this one, though.

There was time as well to chat a little with Andrea (there are two Andreas that frequent the Swans), Susan, Billie, Cathie and Emma. Tina managed to sneak in without me seeing her.

Claire runs a florist / bridal wear shop somewhere in Berkshire. Last year she somehow came across my blog and emailed to ask if I and friends fancied the idea of an evening at the shop trying things on. At last there seems to be a real chance that this will happen ... Laura, Susan and Julia are interested as well as me. So far I only have an outline idea of how it will work ... but if it happens I’ll post pictures and stuff here.

Am I a Trans Femme Addict?

I know. I admit it. It must be an addiction.

Anyway, a couple of weeks back I paid Tracey and Nikki another visit (http://www.trans-femme.co.uk/).

I am improving in some ways. I don’t feel it to be so absolutely essential to take along 5 pairs of shoes, 5 skirts, four dresses, 4 shirts ... I am almost able to plan what I’d like to wear on the basis that I’ll wear three outfits and just take those.

Well almost only those.

But it still needs an awfully big suitcase for a three hour trip.

It’s nice though.

I really enjoy just sitting there and being made up. I remember distinctly the first time that happened at Fiona Floyds. I had no idea what to expect and was amazed! It seemed to take forever. And how hard it was not to blink as the eye liner and mascara approached my eye ball.

The chance of a cup of tea and a chat and the photos are great as well. The experience doesn’t lose any of its magic.

The making up and dressing and photographic experience is, I know, life changing for people.

For me there was, and is, something very special about being accepted as who I am. To be myself and to not have to feel guilty about a part of me.

The photo shoot was unusual for me in that Tracey took some of the pictures and Nick took some as well. The specially nice thing is how easy they make it to pose and enjoy the experience.

Anyway ... here is a small selection of the pictures.

And no ... the ropes were not fastened tightly enough to keep me completely subdued. And it was much easier to smile than it was to put on an appearance of fear and trepidation.

Sore wrists and Pink Punters

I spent a week working in Bristol recently. That was a male-mode thing. Apart from the snow it was fine.

The hardest part of the week was Friday.

Friday morning quite a while after the day began ... round about 8:20 am in fact ... I look out the hotel window to see if I should get a taxi to the place that I am working. How much snow is there out there ... and will there be any taxis?

It doesn’t look too bad – and after all ... there is a taxi rank just outside Marks & Spencer’s – and that’s only a really short walk from the hotel.

Off I set. Pulling the suitcase along – the wheels skidding in the slush. Ice might have been easier.

I arrive at the taxi rank. And there are no taxis.

The suitcase feels heavy. There’s a build up of snow and slush around the wheels.

Also it’s snowing. Cold wet snow.

And the laptop computer in the other bag seems really heavy.

And it’s tricky to juggle everything and keep an umbrella in position.

It seems like a long, long walk. About 30 minutes – but it seems longer.

Every once in a while I stop to re-juggle things around.

At least I don’t slip.

At last I reach the office block.

The first set of doors open automatically.

The second set of doors revolves.

I pick up the pen to sign the visitors book.

And my hand doesn’t work!

It’s not the cold ... my hands are warm.

I obviously am totally unaware of my own strengths and weaknesses.

My wrists are worn out!

In retrospect it makes me smile ... there are much pleasanter ways to get sore wrists than dragging suitcases through the streets of Bristol.

Have you ever tried writing without moving your wrists – just shoulder and elbow movements?
Well ... that’s how I had to do it. The handwriting was appalling – so not much difference there then.

Strange ... carrying the suitcase again was easier than moving the pen around.

It’s almost 10 minutes before I can type.

Saturday 7th February was a Pink Punters night – a thing a few of the girls from Surrey Swans organised a couple of weeks ago.

I spent parts of the week wondering if it would be worth the hassle. The snow ... the way it takes up the whole weekend.

And yet, as ever, I loved it.

My Friday night preparation included toe and fingernails. Nail polish that is.

I still have a problem with my left foot. We went walking in France last summer – in preparation for the hiking in Nepal. One of the end results of the time in France was the loss of the nail of my left big toe.

I do have a bit of a history when it comes to losing big toe nails. I guess I am just careless. When the kids were younger we often went skiing – and almost every year that we did I lost a toe nail. It was either the ski boots that were weird or the shape of my feet. One year I lost both big toe nails ... but one of them was because someone trod on it a week before the ski trip.

Missing toe nails didn’t used to cause me a problem.

In the days of nylon stockings and nail polish things are different. I mean ... there is nowhere for the nail polish to go.

I do have part of a nail now, at least.

There were hassles with my fingers as well.

Initially they were bright pink – but way too blotchy. So I had to clean them off and they ended up being purple.

All of this is part of a cunning plan to prepare for Saturday. I know that trying to fasten a suspender belt to the top of a stocking spells disaster for freshly painted nails!

Come Saturday, the rest of my Pink Punters preparation ritual kicks in.

Bathe.

Shave. Resulting in just a tiny cut on my leg.

Shower.

Pack.

Packing is always a challenge. What do I need to take ... what if I forget something critical? My hair?

What will I wear? In the end I just choose a couple of options. Short black dress or a skirt and a black shirt.

I discover I have a vast number of hold up stockings and so select enough to cope with accidents.

A couple of weeks ago I bought some lip stuff. The idea is you paint it on your lips and it stops the lipstick wiping off.

I decide to give it a try before I go and it seems to work, so I pack that as well. But I take my Maybelline lippy stuff as well – I know for a fact that this stuff stays on lips once it has been painted in place.

The drive towards Milton Keynes is pretty uneventful.

At the hotel everything is fine. It’s pretty quiet.

I’m sharing a room with Nikki. Nikki arrived earlier and is currently touring the local shops.

As I unzip my toiletries bag I notice that it smells especially fragrant and realise that my toothbrush will likely taste of Britney Spears perfume for a while. I make a mental note to pack it separately on the return journey.

As I shave my face I hear a knock on the door. Do I answer it? This would have been a trickier decision to have made if I had been wearing lingerie. It’s a lady with a hand towel.

After the shave comes moisturiser and clothing.

Suspender belt and stockings ... the hardened nail polish survives the experience quite well.

Panties.

Bra. Breasts ... silicone. I remember reading information about these saying that you shouldn’t sleep in them. So far I have observer the warning, not wishing to wake up with a punctured pair.

Short black dress.

To be replaced by a medium length flowery skirt and black shirt.

Then the makeup. The usual kind of stuff. Max Factor foundation. Translucent powder ... eye shadow, liner, mascara, blush, lip liner, lipstick lip cote.

Hair.

Jewellery.

There are occasional little interruptions.

A text from Laura – she and Billie have arrived. I phone and we plan to meet in the bar in a while – along with Emma.

Nikki arrives back as well and needs to get re-made up for the evening. She made up and got dressed low-key for shopping. At first I am impressed at how long Nikki’s dress is – at least a foot longer than her usual attire. However, then I notice that the bottom 12 inches or so is kind of a pretence – just strands of cloth. Makes me smile.

Eventually we head for the restaurant. Billie, Laura and Emma are there already.

Food, wine, conversation and a few pictures.

Billi and Emma.

Billie, Emma, Laura, Nikki and me.

Laura and Nikki.

Nikki and me.

The gang of four.

Holding up the wall:

Then a chance to change – I take the opportunity to do a repair job on my lips – the lipcote and lipsticks is replaced by Maybelline lip paint.

Eventually we cross the road heading for Pink Punters.

And it is cold.

And icy.

But it isn’t raining or snowing.

It takes a little longer than usual, but we all get there with no real mishaps. Nikki is cheating by wearing a pair of sensible shoes – the stilettos are packed in her handbag.

The next few hours are really pleasant.

A few drinks and dances. Pleasant conversation.

Nikki has a label at the back of her dress that keeps poking out. Every so often someone or other dances past and slips it back down.

After a trip to the ladies, Nikki tells us that she was asked by a girl that had a fairly tight pair of trousers on if there was a camel toe visible.

It still amazes us – how different the feminine and masculine worlds can be.

We begin to plan a group trip for lunch or maybe dinner at the Cafe Rouge in Windsor.

I’ve tried some party feet things in my shoes tonight – kind of jelly cushions that help stop the pain. But I’m not convinced that they help. I have the feeling that there isn’t a way of making “dancing in 4.5 inch heels” into a painless experience. But, I must admit, even if it hurts it is more fun than dancing without heels.

There is a girl wearing a corset, very short shorts and fishnet tights that attracts a lot of attention.

Another in a cute black dress with pink trimmings.

Laura occasionally reveals a little more leg than intended.

Guess who ...

Emma remarks that I am wearing more than she expected ... I just smile uncomprehendingly.

Billie manages to keep all suspender belt fastenings fully fastened.

At about 3:30 am we head back to the hotel. It’s a mildly tricky sort of journey – still plenty of ice and snow around ... and 4.5 inch heels are tricky at the best of times.

The ending of another really nice day!

Of Sexualty and Gender

Towards the end of last year (December 23rd) I was, as usual, listening to the radio on the way to work.

There was a story about some words of the Pope. The same story was included in the news headlines on television and featured in headlines on Google news.

I haven’t read the actual words that were written and spoken – my Italian isn’t up to it. So my thoughts are based on second hand accounts.

On the radio, the suggestion was that the Pope had said that issues of humanity and gender need to be addressed and dealt with just as urgently as issues of the environment.

Reports say that no mention was made of homosexuality. But people seemed to be making accusations of homophobia. The implication seemed to be that gays, lesbians and the transgendered were posing a threat to the survival of the human race that was on a par with the threat posed by Global warming.

There were two ladies on the radio sharing their views on what the Pope had, or had not, said.

The first, who always referred to the Poe as “The Holy Father”, made the point that homosexuality is patently wrong – not just because the Church says so – but because biology and science say so. If everyone was homosexual then the human race would be doomed. Where would all the children come from?

There seemed to be a certain irony in this statement. The thought crossed my mind. If every man became a priest, or every woman a nun, then the human race would be doomed in just the same way. Where would all the children come from?

Of course, I don’t think that it is expected that every man should be a priest nor every woman a nun. But, nor do I expect every man and woman to be gay.

Ma y years ago, in my born-again evangelical days, I wrote an open letter to the University magazine at the place where I was a student. It expressed similar sentiments to those voiced by the lady on the radio. It seemed obvious to me that nature didn’t design people to be homosexual. I remember a small delegation of representatives from the Anglican Society, the Catholic Society, the Christian Union and the Methodist Society dropped by to congratulate me. It makes me smile to think about this – I know for sure that we did not all agree on doctrines such as the Virgin Birth, the Immaculate Conception, Papal infallibility or lots and lots of other things. But homosexuality was something we all felt the same way about.

Of course, people change - me too. And although Margaret Thatcher may not have been a lady in favour of U-turns, I’m happy enough to have made a few of them myself.

In my student days my feelings about homosexuality were strongly affected my understanding of what the Bible was. As a Bible believing Christian, all my beliefs and feelings were affected by this – in theory at least. I fell into the “typical conservative” camp as described at http://www.religioustolerance.org/hom_bibl.htm . It was because I believed that the Bible was the Word of God and that the Bible condemned homosexuality that I wrote my letter to the University magazine.

In fact, I have always realised that the way that Nature works is not always the way that societies want to work. For example, Nature seems to select and favour the strong and allows the weak to pass away. Natures answer to high death rates seems to be to work towards even higher birth rates.

There was a time when I would have explained this contradiction between Nature and Society in terms of the “fall”. I believed that, in some ways, Nature had become broken when humanity decided to turn away from God. But not completely broken. So some aspects of Nature work in line with God’s will, but others do not.

I did, however, miss the point that it is, perhaps, disingenuous to use Nature in support of some theories and yet disregard other aspects of Nature wherever it didn’t fit in with the theories.

These days I think that Nature of itself offers little in the way of guidance on moral and ethical issues. Condemning homosexuality using Nature as the basis for the condemnation seems akin to using Nature in support of a policy that would cull the sick and elderly before they became a burden to society.

So, I’m left feeling that whatever Nature has to say about sexuality is not the final word. Societies are not obliged to condone or condemn certain aspects of human behaviour just because it appears to be natural or unnatural.

Ultimately what we condone or condemn is based on what we believe to be right or wrong. And there are many things that can contribute to these beliefs. Nature. The Bible. The Pope. Parents. Peers. Science. Religion.

My own feelings about Gay and Lesbian issues has been influenced by Indigo Girls. I discovered their music quite a few years ago when Napster was a source of vast amounts of music that you could download free. One night in a fit of nostalgia I had been doing some web searching – I almost used the word googling – but maybe Google had not yet been invented, so it may have been yahooing. I was looking for antiwar songs – or at least songs that included the word “war” in the lyrics. In amongst the results was a song called “You and me of the 10,000 wars”. I’d never heard of Indigo Girls and if Napster had not existed that would have been the end of it. However, courtesy of Napster, I was listening to the song ten minutes later – 56K modems took quite a while to download songs. In the years since then I have attended 5 or 6 Indigo Girls concerts and purchased all of their CDs – none of which would have happened with that first free download – RIAA please note!

I’d been listening to Indigo Girls music for a little while when I began to find out a bit about who they are. It was kind of surprising to discover that the love songs that they wrote were quite likely about lesbian relationships. I hadn’t been able to tell from the words. The words just seemed to express love. It’s hard to remember what it was that I’d thought before. But in lots of ways it came as a revelation of what maybe should have been obvious. Gay and lesbian love isn’t different from love. Without knowing it, Emily Saliers and Amy Ray have helped me begin to understand things in a different way than I used to.

I think, as well, that as my opinions on Gay and Lesbian relationships has changed it has become possible for me to begin to accept my own sexuality. I am, like most transvestites, heterosexual. But I guess I am not 100% macho male either.

There was a time when I felt guilty about that. I hid it. I denied it. I buried it. I was, I believe, burying myself.

I was a long time coming, but I have accepted myself. I am happy with the whole TV / transgendered thing.. I don’t feel bad about it. I don’t at all understand it. But that’s ok – I don’t understand lots of things.

A song that Emily Salliers wrote has an interesting perspective on beliefs. Is it beliefs that make people – or people that make beliefs?
We're sculpted from youth
The chipping away makes me weary
And as for the truth
It seems like we just pick a theory

And it's the one that justifies
Our daily lives
And backs us with quiver and arrows

To protect openings
Cause when the warring begins
How quickly the wide open narrows

It may be that one day whoever is Pope and whoever is leading all those Conservative Evangelical Christian groups might be able to see sexuality from a different perspective. Over the years churches have learned to accept things that, once upon a time, would have been an anathema. Perhaps sometime in the future people will look back and smile and think ... “how could they ever have thought that?”