Loss. We spend so
much time and energy trying to avoid it, and, yet, it is one of those things that all
of us will experience in one form or another or, most likely, in multiple
forms. As children, we often experience
loss first through the death of a pet or grandparent or, sometimes, the loss
strikes us more closely through the loss of a sibling or parent. This often causes children to question and
begin to confront, for the first time, their own mortality. As we grow older and enter adolescence, we
begin to gain more things in our lives like maybe a car, a job, or our first
romantic relationship. As we move into
adulthood, our gains and losses have the potential to become greater. There may be better jobs, a home, possibly a
spouse, and maybe children.
With each of these things comes joy and excitement, but
there is also an element of fear that we might lose them. Much of our financial industry is built upon
our desire to gain more and our fear of losing that which we have. We try to protect ourselves by trying to
prepare for the events that we can anticipate, and we purchase insurance
policies in an attempt to ascribe a monetary value to those things that we
value and to protect us against a loss should it happen. Of course, deep down, we know that an insurance
check can, in a sense, replace the item, but it cannot replace the emotional
connection that we felt towards our first car or to the home that we raised our
children in. All of human life is a
cycle of gains and losses.
What has be entertaining such a sobering topic as loss
today? In my case, as, sadly, with so
many others who have been placed into the position of having to make drastic
changes to their lives in order to live in a way that is true to who they are,
I walked away from my faith community.
Was this an avoidable loss?
Absolutely. I could have chose to
remain, but it would have been at the expense of my authentic self. When I first left, I was keenly aware of the
loss of these relationships, but there was also the need to focus on just
surviving. Knowing that I could then,
and could still be today, in many parts of Ohio be legally terminated because
of my sexual orientation, I had to focus on keeping my job and a roof over my
head until I could find a way out.
Once I did get another job, my focus shifted to doing well
at it and finding someplace new to live.
Survival and the fear of failing became my new points of focus, and I
was experiencing a whole new community, a community that embraced me for who I
was and not as they wished me to be.
Then, it would be the finding of and the subsequent loss of my first
significant romantic relationship in my authentic context that would lead to me
to seeking the guidance of my pastor. As
I was in a state of extreme emotional distress, she was wise enough to see that
I was mourning more than just the loss of the relationship. She sat me down and said, “Josh, for what
you’ve been through, you seem remarkably well adjusted, but you have been
through a lot.”
Shortly after this conversation, I began seeing a therapist,
and she began to help me work through the process to begin to acknowledge the
huge loss of relationships that came with leaving behind an entire faith
community. It wasn’t that they had died
or that they had left me. They were still
there, where I had left them. I knew
that I could always go back, but I knew that was not the healthiest option for
me nor for them. I knew that I could
never again see the world from the same perspective that I had before, and I
knew that attempting to have relationship with them would only give them hope
that they could win me back. Thus, I
knew that it would just be an on-going source of torture for them as they hoped
for something that would never come.
Now, I find myself experiencing that loss all over again in
a different way. Yesterday, I was
informed that a member of my former faith community had passed away. Sadly, the possibility of seeing him again
and reconnecting on this plain of existence has been extinguished. I know that this is probably not the last
time that I will experience news of this nature. My plan is to return to my hometown tomorrow
and place myself back amongst my former faith community as we say our final
farewells to a kind and generous soul. I
am being wise about it. I am taking
someone with me, and I am letting others in my support network know that
tomorrow may be a difficult day for me.
Even though I may now see the world through a different perspective than
they do, these people are still, in a sense, family to me. I will always share a connection with
them.
I debated whether or not it was appropriate for me to share
my reflections on this, but I know that I cannot be the only who finds
themselves in this situation. I am so
thankful to be who and where I am today.
I sincerely am, and, when I share my story with others, they often tell
me that they are so happy that I am where I am and that I can share my story,
as, sadly, all to often, stories like mine end in tragedy and the world is
deprived being able to know those people as their true and authentic
selves. As much as I appreciate the
loving embrace and the sense of community that I have in my life now, please
know that, just as it important that we welcome folks into a life of
authenticity and love without limits, it is also important that we support them
in acknowledging and working through the loss of the life that they left behind
in order to be true to who they are. I
hope this is helpful to someone out there who needs to read it.
~ Culbs
joshua.culbertson@gmail.com
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