The Unclad Soul

I have a friend in Los Angeles who asked me to partner with her on a book project. She is a bright, gifted writer, with a personal story of pain and abuse. She is a gay woman who grew up in a strict Christian home filled with rules and moral demands. Though she knew at a young age she was gay, she had no way of processing that with her parents. When she finally did come out to them, which was an act of enormous courage, she was rebuked, sent to a physician who sexually abused her, and later was put in a mental facility to be treated, not for the abuse she endured, but because she was gay. She grew up in the church, attending services three times a week, doing her best to follow all the rules while still trying to deal with her sexual identity. The church provided no support for her struggle. No affirmation for her as a gay person. Only condemnation. Her parents participated in her rejection. She eventually left home, estranged from her family, and deeply hurt and bitter to...

I did not know any of the 49 people murdered in the Orlando night club. I would eulogize them one by one if I did. And so I will eulogize all of them. They were individual humans. They had careers and jobs, families and friends, lovers and partners. They had hobbies and interests; they possessed skills and talents. They went out on a Sunday night to have some drinks, to laugh, and dance, and enjoy life with others. They were a part of our human family. And so they belonged to each of us as well. And that we too often forget. Our   hates   we remember. Our prejudices and aversions, our fear of differences, our loathing those not like us—that we keep in focus. But the fact we are all connected in our humanity, that we are all related as people of earth, that, we sadly forget. The abomination in Orlando was not an ugly accident; it was not a fluke of nature or some terrible mishap. It was a planned and thought out act of horrendous violence, prejudice and rage again...