Hello! I'm a Conservative Christian. Let Me Tell You What I Really Believe.

So, I'm getting a little tired of having various internet memes tell me what I believe and how I live my life. Mostly because they tend to be wrong. Occasionally, when I run across one with a particularly amusing punchline, I read it and snort before getting on with my life. Unfortunately, most of the memes describing “my lifestyle” that I encounter are just offensive to me. The other day I saw a meme with a caption saying something to the effect of “I'm a Conservative Christian and I believe in the sanctity of marriage. So do four out of my five previous husbands.” I didn't laugh when I read this one. Instead, I got a bit upset and cried some angry tears because I feel like I am being misrepresented on the internet—along with many others who share my similar values. You may say, “Well, yeah, but that's because you're part of the group. If you were on the opposing side of the fence, you would find it funny like the rest of us.

Would I?

The whole point of me telling you this is to tell you that I, as someone who identifies as a “conservative Christian,” am an individual. A real person. And at the risk of sounding too much like an episode of Sesame Street, it makes me sad when people aren't nice to me. Actually, it makes me sad when people aren't nice—whether I'm the victim or not. So, don't give me this crap about “The tables being turned,” and “How do I like it?” because although I have my beliefs, I DON'T HATE GAY PEOPLE. I don't post memes ridiculing people who are different from me, and I don't sit around in my spare time thinking of all the reasons I think they are going to Hell. In fact, I don't even believe in Hell in thetraditional sense, and the person I most frequently condemn is myself. I don't enjoy it when anybody is mocked and ridiculed, whether they believe as I do or not!

Yes, I'm a Christian. A member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—you may more readily recognize the term Mormon. I also happen to lean to the right politically. I do value the sanctity of marriage. I understand there are many who oppose my viewpoint. If you are one of them, that's okay. I think you're wrong. But I also know that you think that I'm wrong. The issue I'm concerned with here is not who is right and who is wrong (because I think we'll find that at the end of the day, we each believe the other is wrong, no matter what is said). My concern here is that yes, we disagree. Now what?

I suppose we could continue to create and share fallacious memes that illustrate why the opposite view is stupid in addition to being wrong, but I'm personally getting tired of the same old arguments. Yes, sometimes heterosexual marriages end in divorce. I think this is unfortunate. But (forgive me, you'll have to step inside my religiously extremist mind here—try not to judge too harshly!) I don't believe two wrongs make a right. Divorce, like marriage, is a choice. And while some people may be making the choice of “serial monogamy,” I am not one of them. When I say that marriage is something that I hold sacred, this means that in addition to viewing marriage as between a man and a woman, I was particularly careful while searching for my own spouse. My grandma used to tell me that most girls are more selective of their prom dresses than their husbands. I was not about to be one of those girls. Because I view marriage as special, it's not a relationship I was willing to enter into with just anybody. I kept looking until I finally found someone I believed was worthy to be called my husband. Now that we have found each other, we are doing all we can to ensure that our marriage lasts. So please, don't lump me into a group that believes that divorce is a natural result of marriage. I'm putting a lot of work into this relationship called marriage, and I find it hurtful when others cavalierly come along and tell me I'm going to fail when they don't even know my husband and me.

But lets talk about something that many of those on “my side” have been guilty of. Like the idea that heterosexual people have a monopoly on the pursuit of happiness—particularly where relationships and family are concerned. “Gay people shouldn't get married or adopt because they can't have kids naturally.” You've probably heard that one at least a few times. I don't like it because I don't think that inability to reproduce “naturally” is something to rub anyone's nose in. You probably find the “gay people shouldn't have kids because they aren't good parents” line of reasoning to be as repulsive and distasteful as I find the “religious right-wingers are all hateful people who deserve their multiple divorces” logic—because it's a sweeping generalization that's wrong. Those people I know who identify as homosexual would make great parents if the opportunity came their way. It would seem to me, that the pain that comes to those individuals who are unable to marry or have a family for reasons related to sexual orientation is just as real as that of any single person who is unable to realize their need for intimacy or any couple longing for a child. We should stop mocking the sadness associated with these circumstances—regardless of the sexual orientation of those involved.

The debate over whether or not homosexuals should be able to marry is a sensitive one with very personal ramifications for both sides. It is a discussion that should be had civilly—which civility is typically lacking in internet memes. By all means, post factual sources that support your cause. Electronically share your beliefs—I will be. Just please, as you do your best to tell others how you feel about controversial issues, leave the memes out of it. This is a delicate subject with actual people on both sides, and we can't be fully represented by such sweeping generalizations.

[Some Arbitrary Number of] Things You Shouldn't Say to People Who Hate Lists of Things You Shouldn't Say

 

If you're on the internet, chances are that you've seen at least one of those lists entitled “[Some number of] things not to say to [some group of people].” These lists can inform us of things we shouldn't say to a wide variety of individuals: pregnant women, people with/without kids, deaf people, sober people, and people with anxiety. I understand liking to make lists, but I'm starting to realize that while it may be beneficial to write down everything you need to get at the grocery store or that you are hoping to accomplish in the day, it's less helpful to write down lists of every possible way you can mess up at a thing or all the wrongs that you're trying to avoid. For cases like these, I'm starting to recognize the wisdom of having one or two guidelines that you may actually be able to adhere to. I'm going to help you out here. Instead of writing a long list of things you should not be saying to single people (“When are you going to get married?”), married people (“So, it's probably about time you had a[nother] kid, right?”), rude people (“Can I offer you some manners?”), and old people (“Do you plan on dying anytime soon?”), I'm going to simplify this: Don't be stupid; be courteous.

The beauty of having a guideline is that it is so widely applicable that I don't have to spell out every thing you could be saying to offend various groups of people. Goodness, it even applies when you may not even be speaking.

One of the many problems with creating lists of things NOT to do is that you could be eternally adding to your lists. To pretend that you can exhaustively iterate offenses is pretentious—and to be honest, obnoxious. I also find it ironic that through informing us how not to offend an “in” group, list-makers, whether intentionally or not, are quite offensive to the “out” groups—both by assuming that we are so unintelligent as to be incapable of our own thought and by mocking our opposing positions.

I realized that I usually only read through the lists for positions with which I agree or identify, and then I smirk and think about how stupid people are. Today, though, I read through a list which contradicted my own opinions. Because it was a good friend who had posted it, I spent the whole time thinking “I don't think I've ever said that to her, but is that REALLY how she feels?” I also found myself feeling many of the concepts were juvenile and unfunny—sad, really. But I'm sure if the person who compiled that list were to read through the opposite view's “What not to say to people who ________,” they would feel similarly. We're all different. And we're all in different points of our lives. Let's exercise a bit of restraint and show some compassion.

It wasn't necessary for Thumper's mother to qualify her advice “If you can't say somethin' nice, don't say nothin' at all.” One of my favorite quotes from Benjamin Franklin recommends that we “Remember not only to say the right thing in the right place, but far more difficult still, to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment.” Before you speak to someone, whether your best friend or a stranger, consider how it will sound. Is it stupid? Then don't say it. Is it courteous? If not, just chill in silence, my friend.

Facebook killed my social life

I try to limit the amount of time that I spend with people that 1. I can't stand or 2. can't stand me; why would I want to spend more time with them online? Truth is, I don't want to. Yet, I recently discovered that I'd been doing exactly that.

I was the type of high school student that looked forward to getting out of high school from the time I was say, a Sophomore. Maybe even a Freshman. I remember people telling me that high school was the best time in their life and they just wanted to go back to their high school years, and I thought they were surely crazy or lying to me in an effort to give me hope. I'm still not sure what they were talking about; it was a happy day when I moved away to college.

There were just under 40 students in my graduating class. I was friends with maybe 10 of them. Close friends with only 2. That's how it was, and that was fine. I wasn't planning on keeping in touch with my entire class, just the ones that I really cared about. But Facebook got big, and in the middle of my Freshman year of college, I caved and opened an account.

That's when it started. Friend requests from people I'd known in high school. My younger siblings' friends. The perceived need to “friend” everyone I met. I wasn't so concerned with the number of likes I had as I was that I might offend someone. I didn't want anyone to feel left out. I had the same problem in elementary school. Every year for Christmas when I made my gift list my mom would start me off with the question “Who do you play with at recess?” Well, I played with Becky and Helga and Mabel. And John. But Becky sometimes played with Katie and I didn't want her to feel bad because I didn't get her something. So Katie found her way on to my list. Eventually, by means of this complex network, I found myself getting gifts for more than half the class (none of whom were actually named Becky, Helga, Mabel, or John, by the way). Which is good practice for an elementary school student. But to continue this forever is practically impossible. Constantly compounding my acquaintances and trying to maintain connections with everyone I encounter isn't practical. Nor do I believe it's meaningful.

Before Facebook we latched onto those that we truly cared about instead of pretending to keep in touch with everyone. Really, we don't keep in touch; we share pictures of cats and other inanity (which is totally a word, by the way). Oh, what the heck. By that definition, everyone's in touch.

 

As I recently went through my clothes and other clutter to see what I could get rid of, I also stringently purged my Facebook friend list and found that the quality of my Facebook time increased greatly. I asked myself these questions: upon meeting, would we 1. recognize one another 2. be able to carry on a conversation and 3. enjoy/value the interaction? If not, why was I allowing them to hang around? And may I just say that announcing you are going through your friend list is the dumbest way to go about it? I found that it's just asking for all of those people that you were about to delete to crawl out of the corners of your life and persuade you that they actually care. The people you want to keep will not have to like a status or convince you in a comment why they are a valuable part of your life. Let's be real. There are people that care about you and that you love. You know who they are. Let them know who they are before they threaten to cut off contact. It may sound harsh, but those are your real friends.

You may be thinking these are the ramblings of an anti-socialite. Well, in first grade the “Reflections” contest prompt was “Wouldn't it be great if . . . ?” The winner for our class was “Wouldn't it be great if the world held hands?” with an adorable picture of the earth with abnormally large kids (they certainly weren't drawn to scale) surrounding it holding hands. It may have been out of necessity (due to my limited drawing abilities), but in contrast, my picture featured a simplistic house with an orange door and the title “Wouldn't it be great if nobody knocked on your door?” I did not win. (Translation: yes, I'm rambling and perhaps a bit anti-social.)

Hyperbole (and other perfectly acceptable ways to lie)

This is more for me than for anyone else. It's not a family blog where you will be inundated with pictures of what we have been up to. My [very large] family happens to be a very large part of my life, so they will naturally show up a lot. But this is just a way to keep myself writing and feeling like I have an audience.

I will warn you: I intend to write daily. As in, every day. It would be very misleading of me to pretend that this will be the best thing you read each day. Much of what you read will be first drafts. There will be some rough posts and--hopefully some better ones. Unlike most of the internet, I'm not going to tell you that this is the FUNNIEST blog you'll EVER read. My tagline will not be ''This girl got married and had a baby. What happened next will ASTOUND you!'' The internet has been crying wolf so long that we honestly don't care whether the wolf is real or how many sheep are being eaten. Wolves are an everyday occurrence.

I'm not a wolf, and I'm not a sheep. I'm an average person with an average blog. I honestly don't expect you to read every entry just because it's here.

. . . But if you come back tomorrow, I'll tell you about the event that single-handedly changed my perspective FOREVER. ;)