A interested albeit unaffected member of my Faith who works for the Dean as his secretary called me just before Christmas to give me advice. She maintains that my problem lies in my attitude, essentially that my problem is that I am cynical and pessimistic. She asked me to fast and pray last weekend, which I did, but rather than come to see her point of view, God pointed out a different commonality betwixt the events of my life and their outcome. Yes, God isn't happy with my attitude, but He understands why I feel that way, and so would you if you knew all the details. In the end, as I considered and prayed and thought, it dawned on me that the common theme in my life that keeps creating problems for me is not my attitude but my religion. It keeps me from basic psychological fulfillment. It interferes with basic relationships with women and even conspires to rob me of fellowship with fellow congregants. They mean well, and many of them are good people; they have no problem with the message, just with the messenger. Should I be surprised? Not really. After all, Jesus taught that a prophet has no honour in his own country, and I think I understand that.
Human happiness finds its foundation in a few fundamental facets. Maslow published the summary pyramid of human needs depicted below, and in truth, I know that many of them already exist in my life. A few key pieces, keystones if you will, fail, leaving the superstructure weak and undermining the value of other superior truths that I enjoy because something below them remains unsatisfied. Years ago, the State of Nevada wrote me up as a "health risk" because I wasn't sexually active. I complained to them that they should be rewarding me for eschewing "risky behaviors", but from this point of view depicted I understand. There are physiological and psychological benefits associated with it, assuming of course that it's a healthy relationship, which in most cases I think is assumed by words without knowledge.
In fact, my hiking buddy maintains that intimacy exigent to my principles will cause more problems than it solves. He thinks the only thing that would actually help, and the only thing I truly lack, is a partner. People like to say that my attitude is why I appear to be less happy and successful than I am. However, when you look at this pyramid, the real reason, according to Maslow, is that a significant portion of the center section of my pyramid is absent, leaving a shaky foundation for the best parts of me. Additionally, because I emphasize the top level so much, one element of the bottom-most rung is completely absent, related to the third tier, which undermines the entire thing. However, I cannot maintain my sense of morality while concomitantly meeting the absent need, setting me up for a no-win scenario. I can sacrifice my morality to satisfy my physiology or I can sacrifice my physiology in order to satiate my morality, either one of which leaves me still without complete self-actualization. Many people change their morality in order to reach "transcendence". In other words, they change their own dogma so that the way they live fulfills their needs rather than living in a good way and expecting their needs to be filled by living well. Replacing one part of the foundation with another does not make a more complete foundation. It only makes it incomplete in a different way. Redefining the terms to make the pyramid conform to your preconceived notions does not make you a full person; it leaves you bereft in a different fashion.
It cost me almost every relationship ever to stick to the morality espoused by my Faith. In fact, at least 90% of the potentially intimate relationships I could have with women but that never materialized were curtailed in some way by the fact that I intend to actually adhere to the tenants of my Faith. Many women conclude that because I do not kiss them or take them to bed on the first date I do not actually like them. Others enjoy my company but refuse to pick me because of the Faith to which I belong. My late friend Tracie told me "you'd be perfect if not for your religion". If not for my religion, I'd be someone else, meaning that she essentially said, "You'd be perfect if you were someone else" which is just asinine. Since then, other women outside my Faith repeated the chorus. A student Spring 2014 came to visit me frequently to talk about the material. After her questions, we usually ended up talking for some time, during which she would always excoriate my Faith. Eventually I told her I was a member of that Faith, and she never came to see me again. A coworker told me last week that this girl probably liked me but couldn't see herself with a member of my Faith, ergo she stopped coming to see me. Summer 2015, one of the girls in the gym told me one day, "It's a good thing you're not a member of X faith, because we would suffer terrible things". I wrote it down, I was so shocked. She didn't even know that she was a bigot. These people probably pride themselves on their "tolerance" of other ideas, but when you get right down to it, my problem always has been my religion. Even inside my Faith, they shy away from me. When they find out I've been divorced, they stop talking to me in many cases, and the ones who do keep talking to me are those who don't live the tenants of the Faith. Why would I want to marry someone who is only a member on paper? Of course, that's my fault, and they lash out at me because I'm wrong because I stand on principle. It is not love to alienate someone from their God. It's selfishness. Other women pick other men with fancier cars, loftier titles, and fatter paychecks and ignore me because I choose frugality, self-reliance, and preparedness. In essence, they discount me because of tenants taught by the Faith. On top of that, I have actually been told that I belong to a religion that is evil, intolerant, false and misguided. It makes me feel like they consider me a beast. Many women discount me from the start because of my Faith. Some others reassure me that it will not dissuade them that I am a member of a particular Faith until interested albeit uninspired persons who ostensibly love them convince them to abandon me because I confess that particular Faith, and they choose a different path. It hurts. I know they probably didn't intend to hurt me. I am hurt by their loss all the same. Even members of my own Faith look down on me because I haven't held priesthood office, because I am not wealthy, because I have a beard, or for any other number of trivialities and choose other men, all the while claiming they desire a great husband and father. Their choice of men for other reasons shows me that they choose self-validation. Some of them ought to be picking me in order to 'fix' or heal me, but the only way to really "heal" me is not to change my attitude, my Faith, or my morality. It will require a WOW woman to come along, see the royal within me, and actually keep the promises she makes and show by so doing that she values what I believe and that my Faith hath made me whole.
My religion is also a problem within my own religion. When I first moved to Vegas, my bishop, who was a bully, tried to badger me into taking an assignment. All I asked was the opportunity to pray about it myself and learn that it was God's will. I assume it was his projection, because rather than grant me that, he immediately began to exercise unrighteous dominion and wrest the scriptures with me. I won the exchange, to his great embarrassment, only because I knew the scriptures better than most people he spiritually accosted, and because I turned to a verse he did not know and shut him down. Although our exchange isn't public, he has never forgiven me for that embarrassing defeat and probably used his influence to curtail my professional and financial progress in this profession. It's not just the leadership from whom I face marginalization. Many members assume deficiencies because I am different. Nothing smacks of shame so much in my Faith as to be single and over 30. They assume that somehow I wasn't as valiant or faithful or whatever when in reality they probably just got lucky. In fact, most of the people who tell me they are well matched admit to me that they got lucky. However, the appearance is that THEY did everything right, and I cucked it all up somehow. Women of my Faith look at me as that creepy old guy or wonder what's wrong with me that I didn't already marry. Until they know better, most people just assume that I haven't married for some character flaw on my part, and then when they learn I was married before all too often unjustly ascribe blame to me. It makes sense in some respect but not in my particular case. Having been divorced, I am relegated to a second-class status in the Faith. I am not complaining about this, please understand that. The policy states that a person such as myself who was married in the Faith and who is now divorced is not eligible for leadership or certain other responsibilities until I remarry within the Faith. That's just how it is. I'm not sore about that. In fact, I use it to my advantage knowing they can't make me responsible to actuate my ideas because I'm ineligible for certain positions. However, it means a newly ordained member of the priesthood automatically outranks me and has more authority than I do even if he's 18 years old. That marriage in part accounts for my attitude about things. Now, I am acutely aware of hypocrisy in the Faith and outspoken against it. When those ugly moments arise, I speak out. Knowing that I cannot possibly be marginalized much more than I already am, I took a page from Martin Luther's book and speak out against malversation of every form at every level, against editorials masquerading as facts, and against the wicked traditions of our fathers. It makes me very unpopular to ask what the priesthood purpose of each activity is and to tell people they are wrong, but I don't get anything out of it. I cannot be promoted or rewarded or validated except that their misapprehensions vanish. There is nothing in it for me. I will not be more powerful or promoted or rewarded. I'm barely even a member as it is. (Again, if the Brethren read this, I am not complaining; I'm explaining. I understand the policies and accept them as they are until you decide to change them or explain to me if I misinterpreted the edicts. I know my place.)
I have many problems, and I need the Savior just as much as the next man. Contrary however to the assertions of many women who mean well, I think they miss the mark a bit by assuming that the fault lies entirely with me. At least in some cases with some people on some topics and to some degree, the problem is my religion, not that my religion is the problem, but that living what I believe costs me the other things. I cannot compromise some things without compromising who I actually am, and it is not love to require me to alienate me from my God in order to prove that I love someone else. If I abandon my God, how can I possibly love another mortal? It's a complete catch-22. My religion cannot reward me for valiance until I remarry in the Faith. Members of my Faith who are eligible and available for marriage assume that I am unfit, and women of other faiths refuse to date me because of the Faith I profess. No more convenient scapegoat exists, and no less fitting of an excuse exists on which to ladle all blame into my lap. I'm really trying, so how could I possibly be the problem? Ironically enough, many of these people are fine with me until they learn the identity of the Faith to which I subscribe and then all their experiences with me personally mean nothing when weighed against their preconceived biases. The Kobiashi Maru is ultimately a test of character. The no-win scenario doesn't usually reward you. It asks you to prove who the best you, the real you, really is. It washes away illusions. It reveals truth. The people I meet ought to laud and venerate me for sticking to my principles; instead they find other people with whom to associate. This also teaches me about them. It reinforces my belief that if you really care you will find a way and if you don't you will find an excuse. My religion is an excuse. It is a foil, but it has foiled so many of my efforts in my life to be a neighbor, a friend, a husband, a lover, and a leader, because other people don't like it. It saddens me, but it will not dissuade me. This is where I am; this is where I will stay; I will not be moved. I will die doing what I know is right. I know my place. It is time you found yours.
