Alright, so, I guess I'm a little angry. I know we are supposed to be reading the Bible as literature and only literature, but something about our discussion today just made me upset. Let me explain. We talked today about a collision between what we as readers know in our own human experience and what the Bible says, and I have found that to be painfully true after reading Leviticus 18:22:
"Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination."
It's a bit hard for me not to take it personally. As an openly bisexual woman with a very strong love for the LGBT Community, I absolutely hate this statement, and I think the most infuriating part is that most people who read the Bible do not read it the way we are reading it in class. Many people trust and believe in this book so much they base their lives around it, and it's incredibly frustrating to think that people actually believe homosexuality is an abomination. It's so far outside of the realm of my concious thought it's often difficult to grasp. Anyway, I am in a Creative Non-Fiction class this semester and have been writing my memoir, and started giggling as I was reading over it. I wonder what a person who follows the Bible literally and closely would think about my story, specifically the part I am going to include here:
You found her the night of Old Crow whiskey shots and cards. Muddled banter with your best friend gave way to fervent glances across the crowded living room occupied by your close friends and the people you would never remember.
"I want to be with her," you said. Your friend swiveled.
"She's gorgeous," he said. And she was, especially. She straddled the arm of the beat up sofa, her stretching legs covered with skintight black jeans and feet harboring the most worn pair of Chuck Taylor's you had ever seen.
"Do you need some water, hun?" You were suddenly slumped on the same sofa, your booze filled lips reaching for the beautiful stranger now sitting to your left. You don't remember kissing her or teling her you had never been with a woman before, something she reminded you of on your trip the hot springs. The invitation was so unexpected, but you called her, remember? Her phone number was still scrawled across your front door in blue marker, something you passed by several times before summoning the nerve to call. Your lips met again in the hot springs, the warm water rushing btween your bodies, the softness of her touch suprisingly wholesome.
Weeks passed and you would see her on campus, gazing steadily ahead, confidently walking through crowds that seemed to part and kneel at her presence. She had dyed her hair an intoxicating mixture of platinum blonde and black, spiked up as if to warn the male gawkers she was venemous, a poison. She'll never talk to me again, you remember thinking.
But she did. Another invitation, this one to her room to drink beer and talk about ex-boyfriends and a cocaine addiction she was trying to kick. Her room was littered with old magazine clippings and photos she had taken herself. You remember the sunflowers immediately; they were her seconf love and her favorite thing to photograph.
"What's your first," you asked shyly, a question she would never ansewr. When she left you that morning, your skin was still burning from her embrace and smelling of her perfume. "It's expensive," she had told you once. "A gift from my sister. I can't afford that shit." You ripped a sheet of paper adorned with the image of a 1920's pin-up girl from her notebook and scrawled 'You are beautiful like a sunflower' across the page. Propping it against her pillow, you snuck out of her room, anxiety burning in your stomach. What a trite thing to say, you thought, much less put on paper. You remember the feeling of embarrassment pulsing through your body, but she kept the note for years afterward. She sent you packages on her trips from California to Spain that summer and a bouquet of red roses and sunflowers. Your mother never understood the showering of affection from another woman and you gave up trying to explain. You remember the package that contained the beautiful hand-painted plate and the flask engraved with the words 'Tu Eres Bonita Como Un Flor De Sol'. She remembered in a way that you never could. You were fascinated and she was in love.
You could never piece together exactly how things fell apart, but you know it was somehow your fault. She was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen and you still found yourself running from it, running from her.
"I'm not like this,"you kept saying to her, over and over. "I'm not like you. I can't live like this."
You recieved letters and post cards begging you to open your eyes, to face that life doesn't have to exist in your narrow reality. She would move wherever you wanted to live as long as she could be with you, you could be together. "I fucking love you," she would say. "Why can't you see that this is real?"
She never though you would fall in love with another woman. She had gone over and over it in her own mind, preparing herself for seeing you locking arms with your newest beau. When you told her you had met someone, the tears started to well.
"What's his name," she murmured as if she already knew.
"Kristin," you said, watching the tears roll of her pale skin and splash on her comforter, the one you used to cuddle under and talk through the night. You clung to her body, told her you would never love anyone the way that you loved her, and finally, reluctantly, moved to the door.
Hmm... I'm not sure any of those 'living biblically' would be particularly fond of my work. The only reason I am sharing this story with the rest of the bloggers is I feel this was a very important moment in my life. To read a text which blatantly shows it's disregard for my lifestyle makes the read a little uncomfortable. I am very close with gay people, have gay family members and friends, and support the gay community with every inch of my being. To say (or have someone else say) that all those cherished men and women are abominations is absolutely insane to me. I guess, if taken quite literally, this passage from the Bible only condemns homosexuality between two men, so lesbians must be in the clear! Woo hoo! Only kidding... I know this blog is a bit more personal, but I guess if you take the time to read the story you might understand where my discomfort stems from. I'm only thankful I am not closely linked with anyone who takes these 'rules' in the Bible quite as literally as others.
"Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination."
It's a bit hard for me not to take it personally. As an openly bisexual woman with a very strong love for the LGBT Community, I absolutely hate this statement, and I think the most infuriating part is that most people who read the Bible do not read it the way we are reading it in class. Many people trust and believe in this book so much they base their lives around it, and it's incredibly frustrating to think that people actually believe homosexuality is an abomination. It's so far outside of the realm of my concious thought it's often difficult to grasp. Anyway, I am in a Creative Non-Fiction class this semester and have been writing my memoir, and started giggling as I was reading over it. I wonder what a person who follows the Bible literally and closely would think about my story, specifically the part I am going to include here:
You found her the night of Old Crow whiskey shots and cards. Muddled banter with your best friend gave way to fervent glances across the crowded living room occupied by your close friends and the people you would never remember.
"I want to be with her," you said. Your friend swiveled.
"She's gorgeous," he said. And she was, especially. She straddled the arm of the beat up sofa, her stretching legs covered with skintight black jeans and feet harboring the most worn pair of Chuck Taylor's you had ever seen.
"Do you need some water, hun?" You were suddenly slumped on the same sofa, your booze filled lips reaching for the beautiful stranger now sitting to your left. You don't remember kissing her or teling her you had never been with a woman before, something she reminded you of on your trip the hot springs. The invitation was so unexpected, but you called her, remember? Her phone number was still scrawled across your front door in blue marker, something you passed by several times before summoning the nerve to call. Your lips met again in the hot springs, the warm water rushing btween your bodies, the softness of her touch suprisingly wholesome.
Weeks passed and you would see her on campus, gazing steadily ahead, confidently walking through crowds that seemed to part and kneel at her presence. She had dyed her hair an intoxicating mixture of platinum blonde and black, spiked up as if to warn the male gawkers she was venemous, a poison. She'll never talk to me again, you remember thinking.
But she did. Another invitation, this one to her room to drink beer and talk about ex-boyfriends and a cocaine addiction she was trying to kick. Her room was littered with old magazine clippings and photos she had taken herself. You remember the sunflowers immediately; they were her seconf love and her favorite thing to photograph.
"What's your first," you asked shyly, a question she would never ansewr. When she left you that morning, your skin was still burning from her embrace and smelling of her perfume. "It's expensive," she had told you once. "A gift from my sister. I can't afford that shit." You ripped a sheet of paper adorned with the image of a 1920's pin-up girl from her notebook and scrawled 'You are beautiful like a sunflower' across the page. Propping it against her pillow, you snuck out of her room, anxiety burning in your stomach. What a trite thing to say, you thought, much less put on paper. You remember the feeling of embarrassment pulsing through your body, but she kept the note for years afterward. She sent you packages on her trips from California to Spain that summer and a bouquet of red roses and sunflowers. Your mother never understood the showering of affection from another woman and you gave up trying to explain. You remember the package that contained the beautiful hand-painted plate and the flask engraved with the words 'Tu Eres Bonita Como Un Flor De Sol'. She remembered in a way that you never could. You were fascinated and she was in love.
You could never piece together exactly how things fell apart, but you know it was somehow your fault. She was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen and you still found yourself running from it, running from her.
"I'm not like this,"you kept saying to her, over and over. "I'm not like you. I can't live like this."
You recieved letters and post cards begging you to open your eyes, to face that life doesn't have to exist in your narrow reality. She would move wherever you wanted to live as long as she could be with you, you could be together. "I fucking love you," she would say. "Why can't you see that this is real?"
She never though you would fall in love with another woman. She had gone over and over it in her own mind, preparing herself for seeing you locking arms with your newest beau. When you told her you had met someone, the tears started to well.
"What's his name," she murmured as if she already knew.
"Kristin," you said, watching the tears roll of her pale skin and splash on her comforter, the one you used to cuddle under and talk through the night. You clung to her body, told her you would never love anyone the way that you loved her, and finally, reluctantly, moved to the door.
Hmm... I'm not sure any of those 'living biblically' would be particularly fond of my work. The only reason I am sharing this story with the rest of the bloggers is I feel this was a very important moment in my life. To read a text which blatantly shows it's disregard for my lifestyle makes the read a little uncomfortable. I am very close with gay people, have gay family members and friends, and support the gay community with every inch of my being. To say (or have someone else say) that all those cherished men and women are abominations is absolutely insane to me. I guess, if taken quite literally, this passage from the Bible only condemns homosexuality between two men, so lesbians must be in the clear! Woo hoo! Only kidding... I know this blog is a bit more personal, but I guess if you take the time to read the story you might understand where my discomfort stems from. I'm only thankful I am not closely linked with anyone who takes these 'rules' in the Bible quite as literally as others.
Wow. That was an amazing story. You are extremely talented. Thank you for being so honest, that was really moving to read. I whole heartedly agree with what you said. I cannot agree with something that places great people under the Title of "abomination." I am just lucky that I was raised in a family that allowed any behavior and never judged people for who they came to be. So although I have never had any major encounters with the gay community, I have never once thought them as bad people, or even as a separate identity from the rest of the world.
ReplyDeleteI guess we just have to look at the Bible as purely words, some you should take and live by, while others we merely brush off and recognize the significance they once held in society... cause those days are gone.