I ruff

by H. Rachelle Graham in Lipstick Lesbian | 0 comments

My former bishop compared me to a dog; my puppy hated that so much she went in for the bite. Fortunately, neither of them ever pressed any charges.

While it’s true that I’m close to my dog, Faith, definitely beyond the normal realm of connection between a dog and their human companion, I have not asked Faith to marry me or exchanged rings with her. Besides, whenever I even try to touch her fingernail she nips off mine.

With this in mind, I can’t understand how my former bishop and so many other “religious” leaders actually say this with a straight face: “If you’re going to ask a woman to marry you, you might as well ask your dog, too.” Oh, excuse me; I should ask my dog instead of the woman I love because that would be the same thing or, to use their terminology, equally as “morally-wrong.”

First of all, it must have been an acid trip that led him and so many others to jump from a woman to a dog. Contrary to popular belief, shape-shifters are not real, just like vampires or werewolves. While, sure, it’d be nice if Vampire Rosalie and I could dance off into the twilight together, that’s only what happens in the movies. I just can’t figure out why a person asking a dog to marry her is somehow just as non-fictional as same-sex marriage.

Second, the worst consequence of marrying a same-sex partner might be that we’d have to deal with people comparing our love to bestiality Well, there’s also the not going out in public without being tackled by nine men in penguin suits, or the fact we have next to zero rights desepite paying taxes like everybody else. But these things are not our fault. Same-sex couples will not hurt others; no lonely plural wives or half-human half-dog offsprings.

No one is abused or taken advantage of in a mature same-sex relationship. Can we say the same of all heterosexual relationships, especially since most of the religiously-dominated ones still adhere to strict patriarchal values? Where the woman’s feelings come dead last in the family, even though they do most of the housework and child-rearing on top of holding downcareers?

It may be true that two men or two women can’t physically procreate together, but so what? Neither can a significant number of straight couples, but they can raise, support and provide love for a child, while fostering an environment that doesn’t breed hate, ignorance or how to use God as an excuse for their bad behavior. It’s no wonder the first study of its kind done by Bos and Gartrell found that children of lesbian couples have higher self-esteem, more confidence, do better academically and have fewer behavioral problems.

It would have made more sense to have my bishop reward me for having the courage and strength to use my own free agency and judgment; to stand up for what I believe in and live in a way, in the only way, that can make me truly happy and healthy. Instead of bringing me to tears many times, the church could have used their power and money to help a “cast out” and “abused” group of people by accepting them for who they truly are: a kind and benevolent people.

I hope the day will come when my bishop will not compare my orientation to bestiality, but will want to bring me back to his ward with pure acceptance and unconditional love. When he will look on my heart and not my orientation. When he will remember the moments I spent in his family room, or served the people in his ward. When he will remember that we are “brothers” and “sisters.” Then he will not see me as a monster, a person who would marry my dog and take advantage of the being I love so much I call her a child, but he will see what my dog only took seconds to see: the pain he caused with his words.