Mormons, Sex, and Violence

Last night I was with my Mormon friends at an informal discussion group – one of our other friends was talking to us about theater in NYC and recommending shows, etc.  One of my friends lightheartedly mentioned an experimental show where there was a red velvet cake representing someone’s dead bloody body and people started eating it.  I exclaimed my disgust.   One thing about me – I can never hide my emotions. 

Everyone laughed at me and another friend mentioned a show she had seen where someone smashed a pumpkin that was supposed to represent a human head.  “I can’t handle it!” I cried and covered my ears.  Again, everyone laughed. 

People think I’m just overreacting or being funny, but I really cannot handle such gross depictions of violence to the human body, even allegorical. 

Then they started discussing the immersive theatre piece “Sleep No More.”  The girl who led the discussion intoned in a very serious voice, “I have to warn you, there is eroticism and sexual connotations.”  Another of my friends, who’d seen the show, agreed that there was nudity, but she didn’t feel the scenes she saw were particularly erotic (since the show is interactive, each person can see a different show, depending on which character they follow, which rooms they end up in, etc.).  They both thought the show was excellent but emphasized that one should be prepared for the sexual inferences.

I remember reading about “Sleep No More” when it first came out a couple years ago and was instantly intrigued.  I still need to see it, but what will be uncomfortable for me will be the violence, not the sex.   This theatre discussion only reinforced to me how different I am from my dear Mormon friends.  I was dismayed, as I usually get, at hearing my Mormon friends exercise caution in all matters sexual but think nothing of violence.

My friends know I can’t handle violence.  When we watch movies, they always tell me when I need to cover my eyes and (sometimes ears).  But when we’re choosing movies, if there is too much hint of anything sexual, someone will invariably voice concern.  But I feel like I am the only one who protests at violence. 

I will never understand the Mormon culture’s over-concern with sex and under-concern with violence (I specify culture because our doctrine is pretty clearly against violence).  Even my roommate has often complained that guys in New York are worse than guys in California because they’ll cheat on their women (I could never tell her the full story about my beloved married Robert Hannibal), and guys in Cali are faithful, but they all have guns.  I didn’t press her on this because I didn’t want to get in an argument with her, but I’m so tired of this kind of thinking. 

At this theatre discussion, I remembered a meeting with my bishop this past December.  He was trying to understand how I can have a testimony of the LDS church but not a testimony of the law of chastity. He asked what I thought about the human body and the sacred creation that it is and the sacred respect that we should give the body.  I told him I have so much respect for the human body that it upsets me to watch any kind of violence and I don't even like watching fights because I can't handle bodies getting hurt. He seemed surprised and said it was commendable that I feel that way.  But he said he wants me to work on getting a testimony of the law of chastity.

I’m still trying.  But I would like all Mormons to get a testimony of the beauty and sacredness of the human body in the full sense, not in their limited sex-outside-of marriage-is-bad sense. 

Frank Discussions of Sexuality in a Bedouin Shop in Jerusalem – written March 21, 2011

This Saturday morning after “Abdul” took me to breakfast, he brought me to a Bedouin shop that his brother co-managed.  His brother, “Mahmoud,” spoke nearly perfect English. Mahmoud told me Abdul had told him I was Mormon and a journalism student.  I told Mahmoud I was writing about nonviolent resistance and asked if I could talk with him about that.  He told me, “I am against fighting and against danger, except in bed.”

So I knew this wouldn’t be an ordinary interview.  Initially I tried to steer the conversation to my story topic, but he kept asking me questions, wanting to know about me, especially my being Mormon.  He told me he had worked at the BYU Jerusalem Center twelve years ago, and even dated a Mormon girl for 18 months.

He asked about my dating life, and at first I only told him about “New,” the Indian from New Jersey I met at my swing party job, as that seemed the most normal of my dating (though of course none of my dating is normal).  Somehow he deduced that I was not a typical Mormon girl and had mostly dated non-Mormons and had had sex outside of marriage.  “So you’re a bad Mormon,” he said. 

I was a little taken aback, because even though I may not follow all the commandments, I still have a very strong testimony of the Gospel and eventually I do plan on being completely faithful.  Why would I have signed a contract otherwise stating that eventually I will be fully committed to the Lord? 

However, as soon as I protested, he responded, “You break the rules, you’re a bad Mormon. It’s okay, my ex-girlfriend was a bad Mormon too, back then.”

Mahmoud calling me a “bad Mormon” released the secrets of my shadow life, and I spoke very frankly with him.  I explained that even though I believe the LDS Church is true, I don’t understand the law of chastity, so I don’t keep it, though I plan to in the future. 

I also told him that all my life I thought I was a lesbian and was only attracted to women.  I told him this is why prostitution is easy for me because I could never imagine any woman wanting to have sex with a man unless she gets paid for it.  I explained that I felt this way until I met Robert Hannibal, whom I met at my prostitution-like job, where I’m paid to have sex with the men who attend the swing party. 

I even admitted that a couple years ago I was going to marry a Filipino guy just to get him to the States and to make me seem a somewhat normal Mormon by being married, since I’m an unmarried woman and that makes me not a normal Mormon.  I told him how “Dan” and I had an agreement that if we got married, it would only be for a year, and I told Mahmoud that most of the time Dan and I did not have sex alone but rather in group settings.  Love of orgies and women – that’s all Dan and I had in common.

I told Mahmoud I never enjoyed sex alone with a man before and always wanted women there to make it enjoyable for me, and that was why I liked orgies.  I told him Robert Hannibal was the first man I ever enjoyed sex alone with, the first man I ever was attracted to, the first man I ever loved, the first man I ever made love to.

Mahmoud laughed and said that’s because I’d dated an Indian and a Filipino, and he said “they’re not real men.”  He asked if I’d ever been with an Arab, and I said I had been with Arabs and they meant nothing to me, same as with every other man.  I told him that through my job in college and my current job, in addition to my limited dating, I’ve been with hundreds of guys, that I’ve been with every single race, actually, and many different nationalities: black, white, Asian, Latin American, Iranian, Arab, Kurdish, Dominican, etc.  Though I told him I wasn’t sure if I’d been with a Pacific Islander. 

He asked what race Robert Hannibal is, and when I said he was from Jamaica, Mahmoud said that he’d heard black men are good in bed. I told him I’d been with many black men and none of them were any good; only Robert Hannibal is good.  And I don’t consider Robert Hannibal black.  Or any race.  Robert Hannibal is in his own category. 

Mahmoud asked what I like about sex with Robert Hannibal and I said I didn’t know how to explain it but I love sex with him so much.  I love him so much I want to be as close as possible to him and the closest way is through sex.  But during sex with every other guy I don’t feel anything (unless it hurts). 

He asked if I ever orgasmed with Robert Hannibal and I told him I’d never orgasmed with any guy, only with women, but with Robert Hannibal I loved being with him so much that I didn’t need to orgasm.  I feel so wonderful having sex with him.  It’s the best feeling in the world, but it’s not an orgasm, it’s something else entirely.

He asked if Robert Hannibal had gone down on me, and I said yes, a few times, but I prefer to have him inside me because we’re closer that way.  He asked how I feel when guys go down on me and I said, “again, nothing.”  He asked what about when I go down on guys and I said I have done that, but I don’t like it. 

I said, “In my job now, I don’t do anything – I don’t give hand-jobs or blow-jobs – I just have sex. I just receive, but I’ll receive any kind of sex – vaginal, oral, anal – it doesn’t matter.”

“I figured you out – you don’t want to do any work,” Mahmoud said.  “You’re lazy.”

“You’re right,” I said.  “And why should I work when I don’t need to?  I don’t need to do anything at all, and they have a good time and they cum.  So why should I do any work? I don’t need to and I don’t want to.”

He said he would take me to the King David Hotel.  “I’ll treat you like a princess.  I’ll do everything.  You just lay there.  You don’t need to do anything.”

“No. Journalists can’t do anything sexual with their sources – that’s unethical.”

“Don’t quote me in your article and I’m not a source.”

“Regardless, I’m not gonna do anything with you, or with anyone, while I’m here,” I said.  “I’m here for a school trip.  That’s all.” 

I didn’t want to tell him that I only have sex for money because I was worried he may offer payment.  I didn’t want that temptation.  Besides, even though it was clear from our first moment of conversation that he was not going to be one of my sources for my story, I still considered him a source in the general sense of helping me get acquainted with Arab life in Jerusalem.

He asked if I wanted to marry Robert Hannibal, and I told him Robert Hannibal was already married.  But I told Mahmoud I wanted to keep seeing Robert Hannibal even though I knew there was no future with him because this was my first time to like a guy, to love a guy, and I wanted to experience that.  I’d only known what it was like to be a lesbian and I wanted to experience actually loving a man. 

I said I was still mostly a lesbian because so far Robert Hannibal was the only guy I liked, but I liked him more than any of the women I’d dated, even the ones I was currently dating (as far as women, I’m really only seeing “Cinnamon” and “Desire” from my job).  I said I hoped I could love another guy sometime in the future, and I didn’t want to live a lesbian life anymore like I used to when I was younger.

He told me of his friend who was a lesbian, and she didn’t want children (he seemed to think that all lesbians wanted to be childless).  “It’s a good thing you’re not a lesbian anymore because children make everything worthwhile.  If you don’t have children, what are you?  What have you done in this life?  You’ve done nothing.  Children are everything and you could be the richest and most powerful leader in the world but if you have no children, you are nothing.” 

“I completely agree,” and I tried to explain that even when I was living primarily a lesbian life and not seeing any men, I still wanted children in my future, but he kept going on.  He was saying how he felt sorry for his lesbian friend and he was glad I was realizing how important it was to have kids before it was too late.  “Children are your only legacy,” he said. “You are nothing without them.  Life has no meaning without them.”

I loved seeing how passionate Mahmoud became discussing children. I didn’t ask if he had any.  Come to think of it, I didn’t even ask if he was married.  I didn’t even ask Abdul if he was married, though I don’t think so, since he took a photo of me and him together on his phone, and if he was married, his wife would likely see the photo (the photo was simply me and Abdul standing next to each other, but still, if he was married, I’m sure his wife wouldn’t like it, so I’m certain he’s not married). 

We also discussed religion and politics in his beautiful shop. Religion, politics, and sexuality are my three favorite topics to discuss, but they can also be the most divisive.  So I love meeting people who can discuss these subjects with me, and I really enjoyed talking with Mahmoud. 

He introduced me to one of his business partners or co-workers, who asked if I was “a believer.”  I said yes, and he smiled.  I love the connection that believers have.  We may have different ideas of God and the purpose of this life, etc. but the fact that we believe in God provides an immediate bond. 

(I remembered how the night before, when I met Abdul, I met another Muslim shopkeeper also on Salaheddin Street who spoke very good English.  We talked about God and when I told him I was Mormon, he told me about the BYU Jerusalem Center and he said he was impressed with how nice the students there were.  We had a great little conversation – I love talking about religion and spirituality with people.  And then I met Abdul, but I wish I would have gotten the other shopkeeper’s contact information.  He told me he sells pictures near the Garden Tomb, but I didn’t have a chance to see him again before our class left Israel.)

I took pictures of Mahmoud’s beautiful shop inside and outside – my horrible photography skills were helped by the beautiful antiques and fabrics in the shop and the effect nightfall had on the shop outside.  I met more of Mahmoud’s co-workers and spoke a little with them, and despite the language barriers, everyone was just so kind to me. 

Mahmoud took me driving a little bit to see the city and we passed by the King David Hotel a few times – each time Mahmoud said, “Do you want to be a princess? You don’t have to do anything at all.”  Each time I said no. 

What men don’t understand is I get no pleasure out of having things done to me if I am not attracted to the person doing them to me – man or woman (though women do have a better touch).  If I’m not attracted, there’s absolutely nothing that can be done to me to give me pleasure.  Therefore, it is a waste of my time - even if I am just laying there - unless I am being paid. 

But I didn’t want to keep reminding him that I’m a lesbian except for Robert Hannibal.  So each time he made the suggestion, I just said “No.”  He’s very nice and fun to talk with, but also persistent. But I’m glad I met him.

Examining my Lesbianism and My Love for Robert Hannibal – written March 7, 2011

In examining my love for Robert Hannibal, I’m also examining my lesbianism.  How can I be a lesbian if I love Robert Hannibal so much?

In an earlier entry, I declared that I wasn’t a lesbian because I was in love with a man.  But I don’t know if that’s really true.  Although I love Robert Hannibal, I still find women very attractive.  And I still don’t find men attractive.  Except for Robert Hannibal. 

However, if I had met Robert Hannibal when I was younger, as a teenager, I probably wouldn’t consider myself a lesbian.  I would rightly understand that I had met the most perfect man in the whole world, and even if I couldn’t be with him forever, how could I settle for any other guy, when no other guys measure up to Robert Hannibal? 

But I didn’t meet him then. 

Now, at a very young age, I understood the power that boys had to raise your social status, that it was a bragging matter to say how many boys had crushes on you.  But also at a very young age, I had legitimate crushes on teenage girls.  They were so beautiful to me.

In purely aesthetic terms, I didn’t, and don’t, see how anyone could prefer men to women.  The ideal female body, an hourglass, is pleasing to the eyes. The ideal male body, which is broad-shouldered and angular, can’t really compare.  Who wants to gaze at such a plain and boring body, let alone touch it?

And even so, most men don’t even have the ideal body, so they’re at an even further deficit.  I know it’s not men’s fault that the mold of the male body just doesn’t allow for beauty the way the female body does, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. 

But what really attracts me in others is the face.  I love faces.  Simply put: the average female face is always better-looking than the average male face.  In a heterosexual couple, the female is nearly always better-looking than the male. 

(I say “nearly” because of the unusual circumstance of Brad Pitt. Pitt, who, although I'm not attracted to him, I can tell is very good-looking, despite him being a blonde man, and I just can't think of men as manly if they're blonde. He has always been better-looking than his female partners – Juliette Lewis, Gwyneth Paltrow, Jennifer Aniston – until Angelina Jolie.  Jolie is Pitt’s first partner to be better-looking than him.  She is the perfect partner for him because she is better-looking than everyone on this planet).

Suffice it to say most men don’t even come close to what isn’t even an attractive ideal in the first place, in body or face.  But it is one thing to be a neutral zero on a scale of attractiveness in comparison to women, who are on the positive side of the attractiveness scale.  It is quite another to be on the negative side of the scale, and, unfortunately, most men are on this side. 

This is because men are disgusting.  It’s not their fault.  The hormones and chemicals that form the human male do not make for a person that smells or looks good.  Men give off disgusting odors all the time, especially when exercising and during and after sex, in ways that women do not.  And men grunt, especially during exercise and sex, in the most unappealing way.  Quite unattractive.

On the whole, I do not like artificial scents or perfumes, and I prefer no smell, or just a fresh, clean smell, but some perfume for women I like (though I never wear perfume myself).  But cologne, on the other hand, always smells horrible.  I have never smelled a cologne that didn’t make me want to escape for some fresh air.  Men just need to stay extra-clean and fresh to keep their natural awful odors at bay and not mask them with cologne – such camouflage attempts just make everything worse.

In terms of sexual organs, the male sex organ could not be more disgusting.  I hate the names for it, I hate the way it looks, I hate touching it (and haven’t for years, thank goodness), I hate having it inside me.  But I would rather have it inside me than touch it, which is why intercourse (vaginal or anal) is not a big deal for me at Onie’s club, but I refuse to give hand-jobs or blow-jobs.  Why would I want to touch something so ugly, especially with my mouth?

One of the ugliest images I have ever seen was from a porno magazine that some kid in my elementary school had brought to school.  It was a picture of a beautiful blonde woman with red lipstick whose lovely mouth was up against some guy’s ugly, hairy, disgusting sex organ.  It was so repulsive.  I could not understand why women would do that, except for money. 

Yes, even in elementary school I could understand prostitution.

I contrast this experience with the images of naked women I loved looking at in elementary school.  Our babysitter’s dad had “Playboy” magazines and I loved looking at the pictures in “Playboy” when I was at their house. 

But it wasn’t just naked women I loved looking at.  Any pictures of beautiful women.  I loved reading “TV Guide,” and looked forward to the annual contest for the most beautiful women on TV.  Although I was only in elementary school, I read my parents’ “TV Guide,” “Time” magazine, and the metro newspaper faithfully.  Partly I loved reading the news, but I especially loved the entertainment sections.  And I really loved reading about actresses and seeing their pictures. 

Although my appreciation for women and disgust for men began when I was young, I wasn’t a man-hater at such a young age.  I even told my two sisters that we were going to grow up and marry three brothers, and I chose the best-looking one for myself.  But their teenage sister was the best-looking of them all.

As I grew older, I started getting jealous of guys for the power they held over girls. I thought it unfair that guys could kiss girls, who were so beautiful, but I, as a girl, could not.  I really started resenting guys.  I almost hated them.  And I hated that I had to pretend to have crushes on guys so I could bond with my friends and seem normal.

Also, I wondered how men could walk around as if everything was okay, knowing how ugly they were underneath their clothes. When guys would want to show their ugly thing, I never understood why. Why display something so ugly and disgusting and remove all doubt how ugly and disgusting you are?  Why not keep the ugliness hidden under the protection of their clothes? In general, I didn’t understand why boys/men didn’t feel absolutely disgusted with themselves knowing how utterly ugly and disgusting they were.

Then gradually I started having more compassion towards men, and feeling sorry for them for being so inferior to women in looks and complexity.  When I worked my hostess dancing job my last semester of college, I felt a strange mixture of deepened disgust at men but also heightened pity towards them. 

I began to think that if a man ever got me to orgasm, and if I could have a real sexual dream about a man (not like my Marilyn Monroe threesome dream I had as a young teen where the man disappeared), I would then be attracted to men and wouldn’t be a lesbian anymore.  Such a dream would demonstrate real sexual attraction towards men.  But these scenarios have not happened.

As a Mormon who overall wants to live my religion, I wondered if I would just have to learn to tolerate a man for marriage (I used to only want an open marriage, which would allow me to have girlfriends, but that is frowned upon in my religion, so I keep vacillating between wanting a Mormon temple monogamous marriage and an open marriage).  

I didn’t think it would be too hard.  Although I still think men are disgusting and not aesthetically pleasing, I do greatly appreciate men’s wit and humor, and I prefer typical “men’s music” to the music most of my girl friends like.  Most of all, conversation is extremely important to me, and I do really enjoy conversations with men and being around them.  That is pretty much how I’ve felt ever since.

Until I met Robert Hannibal. 

When I first saw him, I thought he was so handsome and attractive.  I consider people attractive if I want to kiss them and hold them, and I’ve never felt that for a man before.  But the night I met Robert Hannibal, I felt attraction for him immediately and immensely.  And when we had sex, which, of course, was soon after I met him because it was at my job at Onie’s club, I was completely mesmerized.  I had finally had good sex with a man.  I finally made love to a man.

He hasn’t made me orgasm, and I haven’t yet had a sexual dream about him.  But I love him so much that I don’t need those things.

So what is it about Robert Hannibal that makes him so different from every other man I’ve met? 

First, it’s his looks.  I always felt the first man I would be attracted to would have brown skin. I figured he would be Polynesian or South Asian or some mixture of those.  Some race that wouldn’t be likely to have facial hair or body hair, since I can’t stand hair anywhere except on the head, but also who wouldn’t be likely to go bald, since I don’t like baldness, and used to actually be quite afraid of it.

Robert Hannibal is from Jamaica, but I thought he was a Pacific Islander when I first saw him. I felt an instant pull, and when we made eye contact, it was truly electric.  

His skin is beautiful and brown and his body is smooth and basically hairless, though he has some curly chest hair (sometimes he shaves it), but his chest hair is not disgusting like most men’s.  Also, he doesn’t have hair around his sex organ, so it’s not disgusting for me to look at (though I haven’t touched it and won’t). 

His face is really so handsome, and cute and endearing.  His nose is very nice (I always notice noses) and his face is kind.  He has a face I love looking at. 

He has a slight underbite and a nearly invisible goatee, but his facial hair is so faint it’s not disgusting, like most men’s, and sometimes he shaves it.  Ironically, although I don’t like baldness, Robert Hannibal’s hairline recedes a little, which makes him look like he has a high forehead.  Yet on him, it looks adorable and handsome. His hair is curly and soft but slightly coarse at the same time.

Robert Hannibal's smile is so cute.  His lips are nicely shaped, though not particularly full or voluptuous, but form such a cute smile.  It’s not a broad smile or a smile that one may typically think of as an amazing smile, but it’s so cute on him with his cute underbite.  Whether his teeth show or not, his smile is so cute.  He is just so cute in every way. He’s older than me (not sure by how much), but his skin is so smooth, it’s flawless.

I always thought I would like a man with strong, black eyebrows and dark, beautiful eyes, but Robert Hannibal has faint eyebrows and his eyes wouldn’t stand out for their beauty.  But because his eyes are part of him, they are so beautiful.

He’s not really tall, maybe 5’9" or 5'10", and again, I always thought the first man I liked would be tall.  His shoulders are rounded and his upper arms are short, like mine.  He has a minor belly, but it’s firm. Since I mostly see Robert Hannibal at Onie’s, where he, like all the guys, wears a towel around his waist, he really looks like an Islander.  

Everything about him is beautiful, even his ugly sex organ, because it’s part of him.  I remember the second night I saw him at Onie’s, I bitterly watched “Kayla,” the older white woman in her 40’s, having sex with him.  It hurt me too much to look at Robert Hannibal’s face or his body, but I watched his feet.  They’re beautiful.  When he orgasmed, I remember his feet shaking, because sometimes he has full-body orgasms.  When he full-body orgasms, it feels amazing to have him inside me.  I am so in love with him.

We have undeniable sexual chemistry, but we also have connecting chemistry.  We can talk about anything.  He is so intelligent.  And he’s not pretentious at all.  He went to [Ivy League school] and now works in finance so I know he has money, but he doesn’t flaunt it.  He doesn’t treat anyone rudely.  He always makes sure to tip “Bartender” (though I’m sure it’s also because he finds her attractive – she’s Japanese and she’s so sweet and she always wears very sexy outfits). 

Conversation with him flows so easily, and his words are elegant.  He uses graceful language, not in a condescending manner, but just in a natural manner.  He’s so intelligent he can’t hide it, as his beautiful words fall eloquently from his beautiful mouth. 

And he’s such a gentleman.  The second night I met him (third time having sex with him) and he walked me to the subway after I got off work at Onie’s, he made sure to walk on the outside, closest to the street.  He told me his mother always taught him to do that to be protective of the woman at his side.  Most times when I’m walking with him, he always walks around me to be on the street side, and he’ll mention again his mother teaching him that.  I love that he has such respect for his mother and learned so much from her.  I love that he’s a gentleman.

When we’ve taken the subway together to get to the “bi club” in Brooklyn, he’s always very respectful of others as well as of me.  It’s such a contrast to other men I see on the subway who are not gentlemen at all. 

This afternoon, in fact, the subway was so crowded, it was standing-room-only, and I had to hold on to the railing above my head.  I saw so many women standing and I thought if there were any able-bodied men sitting down, they should offer their seats so some of the women could sit.  I looked down the subway car and saw [my bearded condescending professor] sitting down (he is the one who had come to mind after I prayed to the Lord and promised to be chaste and would marry whoever He wanted me to marry). 

[My condescending professor] looked up at me right as I saw him and I shook my head at him.  He’s not a gentleman.  Robert Hannibal is.  Robert Hannibal would have given up his seat.

Not only is Robert Hannibal a gentleman, but he has an easy-going, sweet demeanor while at the same time being a strong, manly man.  I don’t know how he can be both, but he is.  He is most definitely a MAN.  But he’s so kind too. 

The ideal man for me, in fact, is incredibly strong (physically, mentally, emotionally), with a strong mind and strong character.  But kindness must be integral to him as well.  Robert Hannibal has both strength and kindness (I still feel like in some ways I am stronger than he is, though – I doubt I’ll ever find a man stronger than I am). 

And I love his humor.  He’s not a clown but he has a nice, easy-going humor.  He’s so intelligent and we get along so well and so easily that we laugh effortlessly with each other.  We really have such good conversations with each other.  We talk religion, politics, sexuality.  Those topics are my favorite topics of conversation, but many people steer away from such charged subjects. 

Yet Robert Hannibal and I thrive on such conversations.  I always have such enjoyable conversations with him.  I love talking with him.  His voice itself is just the right timbre.  Most men’s voices are annoying.  They speak either too high or too low or have annoying cadences or laughs.  But not Robert Hannibal.  His voice is just the right tone, the right color.  I love listening to him.

I love hugging him.  I love sitting on his lap.  I love kissing him.  I love making love to him and having him make love to me.  I love being with him.  And he’s a man.  And I would rather be with him than with anyone else in the entire world. Even a woman.

So am I lesbian if I feel this strongly and deeply for a man?  In my first grad school program, I tried to write my thesis on women as beauty-seekers, which is why they end up with other women.  It’s not about being lesbian, it’s about wanting beauty.  And women are beautiful.

I wondered if all women are like this, but most other women have been socialized to find men attractive, because men can provide for us.  This wasn’t how I always felt – growing up, I felt alone and different.  But as I aged and especially after college and in my first grad program, I really began to wonder if all women were like me, but somehow I had missed out on the socialization to find men attractive.  That’s when I wrote “Jack, Jane and Jill.”

Maybe if I hadn’t been so concerned with beauty I could have found boys attractive?  Maybe if I hadn’t wanted to compare boys and girls?  Women are the fairer sex, so is it even right to compare? 

Perhaps I’m trying too hard to find a reason for my life-long lesbianism and for my current love for a man. I want a nice, pat answer, but maybe there isn’t one.

At any rate, Robert Hannibal is the first man I find attractive, and so far, the only.  I guess the possibility was always there within me, and Robert Hannibal is the one who brought it out of me.  

Part of me wants to tell him, but part of me is afraid to.  That’s a lot of responsibility to give to someone.  Especially someone who’s already married. 

Trying to Like Men in the Past – written March 5, 2011 (with Feb. 20, 2011 email to my younger sister)

In thinking about how much I love Robert Hannibal, and how surprised I am to have fallen in love with a man, it feels strange to remember that I used to have to "try to like" a guy.   

In a recent email to my younger sister, who knows I'm a lesbian, I told her that Robert Hannibal is the first man I've ever been attracted to.  My sister responded by asking about a Hispanic guy from church with dark skin who I had told her was good-looking, so I had to explain that he was another guy I was "trying to like," before I knew what it was like to actually legitimately like a guy!  

This is my email to her that I sent on Feb. 20, 2011: 

no, i have never actually *liked* a guy before. when i was in junior high and high school, i would tell my friends i would like guys, so that i could seem normal and bond with my friends because girls always bond when they talk about guys they have crushes on. but i always chose guys who were older and who had girlfriends so that my friends couldn't try to set me up with them.

as i got older and back into the church, i deliberately did try to like guys, and i was determined to have dark kids so i looked at dark guys. the hispanic guy was cute, but i wasn't attracted to him. i talked it up as more than it was because i really wanted to find him attractive. you know how you can think someone is good-looking but you're not attracted? that's how it was with him. 

but i was so determined to like a good mormon guy because that was right after i decided to go back to church and be celibate and get married to a mormon guy and i was reaching for someone i could be attracted to. i wanted to be excited about someone who was a guy. 

plus, i was a little upset because when i had prayed to the Lord and promised to be celibate until i got married my old hairy bearded mean professor came into my head and i just couldn't believe the Lord would want me to marry someone like that so i was very determined to find someone who looked how i wanted my future husband to look, with dark skin and no facial hair! and i think the mean prof came into my head to test me to see if i would really marry who the Lord told me to marry. 

and then there was my friend [mormon friend], from [city], who is half black and half-white, and a very good mormon, and very smart, a former [political officer] to [country], etc. and i convinced myself that he was who i was supposed to marry and i told all my friends here that i was trying to like him (everyone thinks it's so weird when i say that but that's what i was trying to do!) and i went to go see him in [different city] when he was giving a talk. 

but on my trip to [different city] i realized i was forcing something that wasn't there - that he wasn't interested in me as more than a friend. on my end, i wasn't attracted to him, but i didn't expect to be attracted to my husband. i figured it could develop into at least somewhat of an attraction after we got married and we had sex and bonded more, but i never could wrap my head around actually being attracted to my husband.

but knowing robert hannibal has changed my previous attitude. i was attracted to robert hannibal right away, though we also had sex right away, so it's hard to separate the two, but i am so attracted to him. i am even in love with him. so now i know it is possible for me to be attracted to a man and to be in love with a man, and now that is what i want in my husband.

In my email, I was referring to the prayer and promise I made to be celibate in Nov. 2008. This was right after I had been seeing "Dan," the Filipino guy I was willing to marry so I could have an open marriage and have orgies and girlfriends.  I realized while seeing him that such a marriage is not the best environment in which to raise children.  And I want to be a mother more than anything. 

So that November 2008 I prayed and promised the Lord that I would be celibate until I got married (a promise I obviously did not keep), and that I would marry whoever the Lord wanted me to marry.  

One of my former professors, who is bearded, white, hairy, and brilliant but extremely condescending, came into my head, so that is the reference I am making in that email.  I think the Lord just put my condescending professor in my mind to test me, because there is no way I would marry someone like that.  I've always wanted dark kids with brown skin, and I need to marry someone dark in order for that to happen. 

Besides, now that i know what it's like to be attracted to a man, to love a man, I can't just marry anyone.  I want to love who I marry. 

Mormon Lesbian Version of The Weed: Club Unicorn: June 2012

The Weed: Club Unicorn: In which I come out of the closet on our ten year anniversary

When I read the “Club Unicorn” blog post by the Weed, where he announces that he’s gay but in a happy marriage to his wife, I couldn’t help smiling.  I could completely relate to the post, and, to some extent, I feel like I’m the female version (though there are many differences!) of Josh Weed.  After meeting and falling in love with Robert Hannibal, I knew it was possible to have same-sex attraction (and really, no opposite-sex attraction) but still love, and love being intimate with, a person of the opposite sex. 

This was my response in the comments section of Weed’s blog post:

“I am so glad to have found another person who understands what I've gone through, only a different gender.  All my life I have only been sexually attracted to women and have had zero attraction to men.  But then I fell in love with a man. And I love having sex with him.  However, as much as I enjoy sex with him, I have never orgasmed with him (sorry if that's too graphic) and I still am very, very attracted to women.  I completely agree with your explanation of intimacy and how that makes all the difference.  So thank you for sharing.”

Since then, I’ve read posts by other bloggers 1) questioning Josh Weed’s happy marriage to and love for his wife; 2) warning of the failures of mixed-orientation marriages; 3) asking how Weed can find sexual fulfillment; and 4) wondering how Weed could be true to himself in such a marriage.

I find all these concerns misplaced.  Let me address each one.

1) Is it real love? - Many people who identify as homosexual say that their attraction to those of the same gender is not just about sex – it is about love.  They love someone of the same gender, they have emotional connections with the same gender – their attraction is beyond sex.   A person of the same gender is who they want to spend time with, who they want to be around, who they love.

So if this type of love is true and accepted when someone who identifies as homosexual shares it with another of the same sex, why is this same love not considered true when it is shared by someone who identifies as homosexual for someone of the opposite sex?  Josh Weed shares an emotional and intimate connection, a deep love, with his wife.  How is that not considered real, or true?

2) Mixed orientation marriages - Several factors contribute to a successful or unsuccessful marriage: educational background, culture, race, religion, class status, nationality, temperament, personality, etc.  Some marriages succeed despite the couple being different in nearly every way, some marriages fail despite strong similarities, and vice versa. 

What matters is the couple’s commitment to each other, to the marriage.  The Weed marriage has been going strong for ten years, and Josh and Lolly have each professed and demonstrated their commitment to their marriage.  That commitment is more important than anything else.

3) Regarding sexual fulfillment, I can only use my own experience to understand Josh Weed’s intimacy with his wife. 

I have always thought the female body to be so beautiful, and the male body, even the most idealized male body, to be so ugly.  Simply put, seeing a naked man turns me off, seeing a naked woman turns me on.  And the idea of women being together turns me on so fast. 

In terms of my experience, sexual pleasure for me occurs when I am with women.  Having sex with a man (other than Robert Hannibal) does absolutely nothing for me, but even just being next to a naked women turns me on.  And I can only orgasm by myself when I think of two (or more) women together. 

That being said, sex with Robert Hannibal is the most wonderful sex I’ve ever had, more wonderful even than my sex with women.  This may sound strange, because I can orgasm with women, and of course I love when women bring me to orgasm, but I’ve never orgasmed with Robert Hannibal.  And yet I prefer sex with Robert Hannibal over sex with any women, even my ex-girlfriend, whom I also loved.  If I had to make a choice where I could either only have sex with Robert Hannibal for the rest of my life or only have sex with women, Robert Hannibal would easily win.  It is not even a contest. 

Why is that?  As Josh said in his post, intimacy and connecting with someone you love – that is “sex at its deepest level.”  The chemicals released when I have sex with Robert Hannibal give me far greater pleasure than those released when I orgasm with a woman, no matter how intense the orgasm.  Being intimate with someone I love is the greatest feeling in the world, and that is true sexual fulfillment. 

4) For those who say Josh Weed is not being true to himself - How can someone other than Josh Weed tell Josh Weed he’s not being true to himself?  Isn’t Josh Weed himself the best person to know if he’s being true to himself? 

If Josh Weed is happy, and feels that he is leading a fulfilling life, and loves his wife and wants to be with her, and loves his children, and if Josh Weed feels he is being true to himself, who is anyone else to say otherwise?  How do all these people know what’s best for Josh Weed?  How do they know better than Josh Weed does? 

What about a man whose wife is getting older, and he still loves her, but he also still finds himself attracted to younger women, just as when he was a young man?  Is he being true to himself by staying faithful to his aging wife?  And she him? 

Or consider a man who really loves group sex but falls in love with a woman who only wants a monogamous relationship.  If he gives up group sex to commit himself to her, is he being true to himself? 

To take it to a ridiculous level, what about someone who loves the taste of white sugar, but develops an allergy or an illness and thus can’t have white sugar anymore.  Suppose this person begins eating healthier foods and grows to love the taste of natural sugars found in fruits.  Is this person being true to himself? 

Again, the test to determine if someone is being true to himself is if the person feels happy and fulfilled.  And the best (and really, only) person to make that determination is the person himself.