I keep going through strangely intense episodes of my life, all the while feeling as if I am just a spectator outside my body peeping through a window at my life.
Today, the sight of a young lady wearing a green tank top and a white skirt triggered a memory that sent me into retrospective analysis of the things that happen while I watch. The girl’s outfit reminded me of a young lady whom I will now call Serena.
Serena is in her early twenties, not exceptionally beautiful (I presume to decide), blessed with an above average intelligence but choosing to use it only partially on select moments. She is quite open about her sexual nature, a little too open, almost as if she feels the need to lay matters on the table to avert judgment. She is heterosexual.
Serena, for some reason believed that we were friends, bossom friends, and therefore chose to offload the contents of her mind on my ear on several occasions. I listened, perhaps with a little distaste, because I have learnt from growing up in a fast changing world, that only my life, my choices and say, my sexual orientation are to be a matter of interest to me. Everyone else has a whole lot to deal with and I do not have the right to impose my thoughts or opinions on them.
I chose to voice my thoughts and opinions with the written word; I will not impose them on anyone. Serena did not understand, rather she chose not to understand my refusal to denounce and curse yet another young lady we both know to be bi-sexual, bi-curious or gay, whatever you call it. I have my thoughts on this. You do, too. So does everyone else. What bothered me, more than Serena’s denounciation of our bi acquaintance, was the equally disgusting ‘open-ended sexuality’ she practiced. Again I will not judge and denounce Serena; however, I need an explanation.
Serena was not just ‘poly’, as in having more than one sexual partner. Serena was, is, seeing at last count 7 men, each of whom provide financial favors in return for her sexual services. I don’t know what you call that, upwardly mobile, open minded, sexually adventurous, but my grandma would call it prostitution. Anyway, that is not the point. Hardly.
My point is that Serena is not the only one who chooses to view life in a slanted view. A lot of people seem to ignore their own faults, tend to justify their own choices, and glorify their own lifestyles, while denouncing other people’s choices, cursing other people’s lifestyles, declaring everyone else wicked and themselves righteous.
I, too, believe in the Holy Scriptures. I too have faith. Perhaps that is something we share, perhaps not. I am not homosexual, or bisexual. I am straight, heterosexual. But that is me, my choice, my lifestyle. Perhaps you are like me, perhaps not. I do not presume to be better than you, or you, or you over there, just because of my choice. I will not impose my choice on you. I hope that you will not impose your choice on me.
But please, please for the sake of the light that must shine tomorrow, please explain what it is that makes you wake up in the morning and judge everyone else who seems different to you, claiming all the while that you are beyond judging, because you are holy? Is it the conviction that you are holy? Or is it the fear that perhaps you are only fit to be thrown into the fiery gehena that you prescribe for everyone else?