Resilient Humans: Recent Episodes
Resilient Humans
I’ve named my podcast Resilient Humans because it’s a value that I feel can help a human through the absolute darkest of days. Feel free to ask me an Ex Jehovah's Witness Elder anything! Do you have doubts. Did someone accuse you of wrong doing? Are you getting pressure to reach out? Are you being discouraged from going to school and pursuing higher education? l'd be happy to provide some insight into the situation and help you navigate whatever you're going through so you know what to expect.
Every once in a while I get a beautiful message like this telling me how to improve my life! Yay for the internet! #letters #satire #feedback #clapback
I sent this to the hundreds of Jehovah’s Witnesses I was hiding from.
Good Morning!
It has been so long since I have talked to any of you, and to be honest, I was shocked that so many reached out to me to invite me to the memorial. Perhaps that was an indication of your love. This message is an expression of my love; for justice, ethics, and standing for the correct thing.
One of the things that woke me up and motivated me to leave was how in-depth the elders focused, obsessed, and oppressed those who were experiencing an LGBTQ+ crisis. I felt this personally, and I wish I had not been afraid to displease them.
Do not be on the wrong side of history. Do not allow someone who has no stake in the fight for authenticity to establish your feelings towards a world that you do not know, as they do not have the credentials to do so. And if you know these worlds and the hell that they can be, choose to be kind and show beauty and love. And even if you cannot do that, then just remain silent and do not add to the problem.
If you are facing an LGBTQ+ crisis yourself, know you are whole, beautiful, and loved. Attached are some pictures and links to my new family.
‘We Are What We Are’
I won’t bore you with what I have been doing in life, but know this: I have been building something beautiful and bigger since I left, and I don’t sit idle. I hope you have grown and improved since we parted ways. Your sons and daughters and loved ones will remember how you behaved, how you loved, and how your love is conditional. It won’t be forgotten by anyone.
Oh, and if any of you choose to invite me again to the memorial, it isn’t appreciated. Never do that again. I never even considered sharing my values back until you all reached out to invite me to the memorial. I realized I had just as much right as you do to communicate my truth. We can both proselytize and express our ideals, and that’s exactly what I have dedicated my life to now, in part because of my experiences with you. So thank you for empowering me even if you never intended to.
Goodbye, and please reevaluate your life. Perhaps in time, you will find that your ‘best life ever’ will change to ‘I thought that was my best life? Whatever!’
Poetry: Pride United
Today is a special day. I’ve traveled to Washington, DC, because, simply put, I was seen. I was seen by the most dynamic person I have ever met. The person who saw who I was, even when I didn’t, was Mr. Moises (Moe) Vela. He took an interest in me because of his compassion, ideals, beliefs, and values. Moe lives life to the fullest and has taught me that it’s okay to see things from a different angle and that it is more than okay to bang my own drum.
This is special to me because I rarely have felt seen, and even more rarely, seen by someone who knows how the world works and can provide guidance to better my life.
being seen by a brilliant man with as much life experience as Moe is life changing and perhaps the most beautiful, pivotal moment of my life.
This day is also special because the exact reason for my visit here to DC is to accompany Moe to Pride at the White House. Let me tell you, for a neurodivergent man who wasn’t allowed to go to public school and has never finished his degree, being seen by a brilliant man with as much life experience as Moe is life changing and perhaps the most beautiful, pivotal moment of my life.
This, in turn, makes me want to make others feel seen, specifically for who they are and who they want to be. Moe motivates me to stand up for those who have not yet found their footing in a cruel world and who do not yet know how powerful and beautiful their own voice is. Because, if you haven’t connected the dots already, that is exactly what Moe has done for me.
For those of you who have been following me, I think you know I don’t want praise and I don’t want pity, I want acceptance. I know you recognize the pain and fear we share and how much trust and courage it actually takes to get out of bed at times, and then even more to open the door and face the world.
I’m gay and have been diagnosed with PTSD from my life experiences, and I’m just starting the process of understanding that I am actually worthy of sitting down at my own beautiful (and rightful) seat at this banquet table that is called life.
Moe getting ready to be interviewed by a panel discussion Yesterday, I heard Moe tell the story of the moment he was seen and perhaps the moment he knew life was going to be okay after all. The person who saw him was Al Gore. Moe told this story for a reason. If the Vice President of the United States of America could find great value in him as a human, why shouldn’t everyone else in the free world, and especially himself, find value in his very own soul?
If the Vice President of the United States of America could value him, why shouldn’t everyone else in the free world, and especially himself, find value in his very own soul?
Because of his example and the time he spent teaching me, he has opened my eyes and helped me learn that this is my world and I should have a little pride in my place here.
Moe provided me with my own “Al Gore moment” when he himself made me feel seen. In turn, it’s time for me to focus on always shining my guiding light on the path forward for others who need and want to be seen and heard.
In the last two years, I was embraced by the LGBTQ+ community. One particular slice of our rainbow arrow has taken an interest and shown me more kindness than I ever expected: the Trans community.
One particular slice of our rainbow arrow has taken an interest and shown me more kindness than I ever expected: the Trans community.
Even in moments when one of my beautiful friends decided that she needed to leave our home of Kansas City because of her safety and security, she provided me with grace, support, kindness, and love. While I will never completely understand her feelings because I’m gay, not trans, I don’t need to have her life experience to know that I can support and choose to do the right thing when it counts.
Today, in a symbol of love to my beautiful friend and in solidarity with the entire trans community, who I hope accepts my gesture of love, I have chosen to wear the trans flag as my attire while I celebrate Pride at the White House. This is to show my love, support, and desire for a world where everyone can be seen, heard, and valued for exactly who they are.
The most powerful lesson I have learned this week leading up to this visit was perfectly encapsulated by one of Moe’s unforgettable birthday gift to me: a beautiful performance of La Cage aux Folles, where the brilliant Mingo Long belted the lesson Moe had been trying to teach me for months, life is a sham and isn’t worth a damn until you can say, “I Am What I Am.”
The most stunning rendition of any song that has touched my soul: “I Am What I Am,” sung by the brilliant Mingo Long.
What we all shout is our desire to fly
and see our potential grow higher,
without being bound by chains with no key.
We require the determination and power
to live our life uniquely and free,
preventing our hearts and souls from fading
and wanting to retire under the weight of a lord and sire.
We have had enough of being routinely slurred
and left in the gutter like a flea.
We will cast these chains off like the bird of fire
and seek victory on plains far higher.
There are many who choose not to understand us
and instead conspire.
We need not worry when our rainbow array
is united as a choir;
it’s then our voices have better chances of being heard,
preventing our freedoms from being deferred, deterred,
and left in mire like an unloved herd.
We demand to have the basic rights as a bird,
for now many of us must fly away from all that is absurd.
Yet we refuse to allow you to steal away
and then hide our identity & dignity
and gaslight us into thinking that never has occurred.
We will be strong to the last fight
because in our hearts we know we have grass roots might.
Here’s the take away, many of us have lost everything already,
be careful when you chose us as an opponent,
there will be nothing you can say or pray
that will make us disappear and go away
because you forget one small component.
You forget we are actually your sons and daughters,
it is us who need waters of life now,
yet I promise we will remember that you chose to shun
and at times even slaughter with us with your own guns.
So take a moment and think,
when you stifle and attempt to destroy us
you won’t avoid being indicted,
you forget you harm your future, your legacy and everything
because you refuse to be reunited,
yet we have hope, for the colors of our rainbow
transcend every party, creed and race,
so while we won’t forget that you have left us blighted,
we have far greater hope because within us something has been Ignited,
our hearts are already freed
because we live the dream and values of these states united.
I started looking though old journals as I started writing my posts centering them around my time at Bethel. I found this journal entry from February 2008 that was written while I was there.
“Get close to the congregation. Have a set plan for service during the month. Be prepared for ministry, arrange to work with people, both ones I know and don’t know. Make it a goal to talk to people at meetings, don’t just go hide in the mag room. Ask to stay down on weekends if I can.”
My Personal Journal – February 2nd 2008
If I could reach back in time to him, that solitary figure battling the shadows of depression and anxiety, I would offer a hand not just for comfort but in recognition. He was someone navigating the complexities of life, often feeling lost, seeking peace in distractions—yet, within him was always a desire for a life filled with joy, love, and companionship, a genuine life.
If I could talk to him, I’d reassure him that his efforts to fit into what seemed normal weren’t pointless. They were essential survival tactics at the time, and they didn’t erode the essence of who he was or who he would become. His isolation, though painful then, wasn’t permanent but a phase that would build resilience.
In his efforts to get closer to the congregation, I would remind him to choose friends who appreciate his flaws and celebrate his distinctiveness. True connection comes from resonating with those who face challenges and still triumph, who share similar journeys or can be empathetic with his pain. I’d also tell him to be willing to embrace the spontaneous moments that can lead to deep bonds.
At a party trying to be cool. This was taken the week I wrote the original Journal Entry on February 2nd 2008.
I’d encourage him to step out from the magazine room at meetings, even if it’s just a small step. It might have seemed safer to stay hidden, but real growth requires stepping out of one’s comfort zone.
I wish I could express my deep empathy for his struggles and the intensity of his loneliness. I would try to convey that this period wasn’t the sum of his life. I’d tell him to savor the joyful moments, brace for the challenging ones, and know that life, in time, would lead to a place where he’d find his true home, his voice, and realize he was never really alone.
In the words of Seinfeld, My next chapter is a pretty big matzah ball I’m just hanging out here.
Navigating one’s spiritual journey can often feel like traversing a winding path, with each turn presenting its own set of challenges and revelations. This was particularly true for me after leaving Bethel and for several years after. when I look back I see it was a period marked by intense personal reflection and a significant shift in my spiritual processing, especially concerning the deeply symbolic act of partaking during the Memorial of Christ’s death.
In the Jehovah’s Witnesses faith, the act of partaking bread and wine during the Memorial is a declaration of one’s hope to be among the 144,000 anointed, those believed to be chosen to reign with Christ. You simply don’t partake unless you are certain that you are part of that group. You’re part of the “other sheep” if you’re not a partaking anointed individual. The majority of Jehovahs witnesses chose not to partake and it is almost an unspoken social taboo for them to do so.
My decision to partake was met with a barrage of questions from those who had known me since I was a child and also many rude and disrespectful individuals that I wasn’t even aquatinted with. They wondered whether this change was the result of a personal epiphany, some divine calling, or the immense stress of living up to the high spiritual standards set by the faith. In truth, the reasons were most likely a muddy mess of some of the reasons above, intertwined with deeply personal feelings, complex and multifaceted beliefs, my insane zeal, and my understanding of the Scriptures. It’s intriguing to look back with a different belief system today and process and deconstruct this all.
This is my best friend Brandon pointing over my shoulder. This photo was taken the night of the memorial after I first partook. Brandon was supportive, but it was still a topic of frustration from his perspective. I remember him showing me scriptures and articles about the subject.
Starting to partake at the age of 23 was a bold move, one that did not go unnoticed. Within the congregation, partakers are often placed on a pedestal, expected to exemplify spiritual perfection. Those who do not fit this mold are subject to scrutiny, their mental health questioned, their motives doubted. This skepticism can take a particularly harsh tone when it comes to young individuals or women, with speculations ranging from hormonal imbalances to mental illness.
The scrutiny I faced was intense. For some reason, many felt they knew my heart and hope better than I did. I was not serving as a ministerial servant (deacon) or as an elder at that time, but I was a regular pioneer. My decision to partake led to elders convening meetings, publishers (congregants) whispering, and a general sense of unease. My roles and responsibilities like pioneering and assisting with the sound system in the congregation came under review, as did the potential influence of my actions on others.
On the phone with another “well meaning friend” the day after the memorial where I partook. This friend was talking to me about my actions the night before. He was also reminding me of certain scriptures that pertained to this topic of the anointed and the lords evening meal.
When confronted, I responded many times with a question of my own, “How does my hope concern you?” I didn’t talk about it. I hated talking about it with anyone. I would vomit and became sick when someone wanted to chat about it, because I knew that often times their motive served no positive purpose. This highlighted a crucial aspect of their faith that is often ignored—that a person’s spiritual hope is a personal matter between them and Jehovah. While my responses towed these fellow worshippers stymied direct confrontations, it did little to quell the judgments made behind my back.
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In those early days of partaking, I sought counsel from those I respected within the small group of partakers I knew; yes, there is a little group of partakers that keep in touch in most areas. One such individual I relied on was Ken Cook, who became a confidant and guide back at my time in Bethel. Our interactions began with conversations over meals in the dining room at Wallkill. They provided me with a sense of understanding and acceptance that was otherwise scarce.
Ken’s advice was instrumental as I grappled with the visibility of partaking in a public setting. He reinforced the idea that this covenant should not be a private affair hidden from the congregation. I appreciated that advice but didn’t quite understand it. I often felt that Ken helped put a bubble around me as I started navigating the organization after starting to partake. I appreciated the guidance and attention from him then.
I recently looked at correspondence between the two of us and also reflected on my journal entries describing our in-person interactions. Immediately, I started feeling like a failure. He was a busy man and he invested time in me. Now, here I am today, writing very publicly about the flaws of the organization he supports so strongly. I couldn’t help but feel a bit of guilt.
I reflected on the words he spoke to me when I left Bethel because of my actions with Jonathan in 2009. Then, I thought about what he said in the 2022 broadcast regarding the LGBTQ+ community. In that moment, I realized that this man, whom I revered, trusted, and sought guidance from, had given me incorrect counsel and advice. Suddenly, my guilt disappeared again.
But back to the story, we’ll talk more about Ken soon enough.
The act of partaking itself was an experience etched in my memory. The tension in my heart was evident as I reached for the emblems, hands shaking, the ridiculously long prayer over the wine as I was choking on a shard of that terrible stale bread, and the overwhelming relief after fulfilling this “sacred” act are moments I will never forget. This public display marked a significant turning point, positioning me as a spiritual anomaly—a young man who had left Bethel on bad terms, began partaking, and yet continued to flourish within the congregations standpoint. My name was being talked about for all kinds of reasons in our circuit. Some good reasons, and based on what you’ve read about me, obviously there were some scandalous reasons too.
The only thing I had to focus on for quite a while before being reappointed as a ministerial servant and elder was pioneering and studying, it became more than just a religious duty; it was a lifeline. It allowed me to demonstrate my faith through action, conducting Bible studies, supporting publishers, and contributing to the spiritual growth of the congregation. This dedication earned me respect and admiration, especially from the circuit overseer, which frustrated my local elders, yet it helped me integrate into a social circle that provided safety and a sense of belonging. The one I wanted at bethel but never exactly had.
Reflecting on this journey, it’s clear that partaking was not a decision made lightly or without consequence. It was a step taken in the sincere faith and understanding I had at the time. I had full awareness of the scrutiny and judgment it would invite. Yet, now despite not sharing any of the belief’s of Jehovah’s Witnesses, I acknowledge that decision as a step towards authenticity. In its simplest form it was a declaration of a personal belief that overpowered the expectations and challenged the norms of the congregation. I often call partaking “my first coming out.” Ironically the entire experience began to prepare me for when I would leave behind this high control life.
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4
As my story unfolds, the focus shifts from the tender moments shared with Jonathan* to a broader introspection of my journey within the world of Jehovah’s Witnesses and the institutional walls of Bethel. Jonathan, in a twist of fate, found himself reassigned in December of 2009, his chapter at Bethel closed abruptly just as our love had begun, sending him back to the lush landscapes of Hawaii. It was a bittersweet turn that would lead to our final time in person, a fleeting chapter in paradise and in our minds some kind of long distant relationship.
I meticulously planned a vacation to his island, hoarding vacation days with the singular goal of rekindling what Jonathan and I had, but now amidst the tropical beauty of his island. My arrival on Oahu was in the dark of night, yet the sparkle of Waikiki Beach under the bright moonlight set the stage for what I hoped would be a romantic vacation, despite the pressing knowledge of our limited time and being around Jonathan’s family.
Long Island Iced Teas were our drink of choice. Jonathan had introduced me to strong drinks, his ‘cosmopolitan’ was a strong concoction that was pretty much vodka and a splash of cranberry.
The moment of our trip that became a formative core experience began with a night of music and “revelry”, a concert where my desire to dance with him was extraordinary strong and fueled by all the drinking. Alcohol became our uninhibited companion, and later, perched upon a rooftop looking at the Hawaiian sky, we found peace under the stars and in our promises of love forever—a bond we believed transcended even the most intimate of human connections.
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Yet, as dawn approached, so too did the end of our story. Fear and guilt, those twin stewards of our faith, crept into Jonathan’s heart and mind. By the time light broke and I woke up, he had already reached out to his elders, confessing what we had shared that night.
The divide between us grew as I faced the inevitable—my departure from Bethel loomed, and with it, the daunting prospect of confronting my family and friends.
In the silence that followed, with Jonathan’s decision echoing in the void, I was left to grapple with the reality of our diverging paths. It was a poignant reminder of the delicate balance between my heart’s desire and the constraining doctrines of our faith—a balance we could not maintain.
And so, as Jonathan dropped me off at the airport, both of us confused and sad, I whispered a final, silent ‘kemps’ to Jonathan, and to a life that would never be the same.
To be Continued…
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4
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*Some names have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals who may be impacted by high control groups.
Sorry it's time for another deep meditation moment. So often do we hear it said "why do people do bad things" but rarely does a person actually want to invest the time to find an answer. I've found that people rarely do bad deeds because they are actually wicked, they do those things because they have gotten themselves into a kind of emotional or psychological debt so to speak. They and those around them often have been frivolous with their actions and responses towards each other. Subsequently they end up responding with deviant learned behavior. So our question shouldn't be "why do people do bad things" a much more sensible and important question to ask is "How can we build each other up so that bad behavior isn't even an option!?"
mindfulness #deviantbehavior #badthingshappen #sadness #questions #question #sociology #psychology #ethics #behavior #nuturevsnature #sociologicaltheory #sociologicalimagination #sociologicalconcepts #intentional #intentionalliving #intentionalitymindset #intentionality #equity #bias #unconsciousbias #unconsciousbiases
Support and love are important to joy and honestly just simply surviving! My friends, You have made me feel loved and supported. I hope I can provide at least a small portion of what you need to thrive and survive! P.S. I’m talking about actual love and friendships and healthy relationships. NOT codependency!
I've never used my voice in the way that I wanted to! Learn why I feel a responsibility to use it now, and in what ways I plan to use it!