I don't blame it all on you, but I don't want to be your friend

I was baptized at this auditorium. The photo you are viewing is the Natick Assembly Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses, located in the gorgeous metropolis of Natick, Massachusetts. It is common for youths who are raised in the religion to get baptized in their teen years. I was rather intelligent for my age and extremely competitive so I decided to get baptized at the Natick Assembly Hall at age 12. I thought I could baptize the gay way. Cut to me with a blow dryer, hair gel, and self-tanner in the men's locker room, striking poses in the mirror.

I remember Sister Bias (names HAVE NOT been changed...seriously) handing me a small gift and a handwritten card after the grand event. Gift giving to baptismal candidates is generally discouraged, but I managed to make out with a new creepy Jehovah's Witness briefcase and a few fancy pen sets (all for use in the door to door ministry). Sister Bias recruited my mother and had studied the Bible "Jehovah Style" for 5 years until mom got baptized. She was a tough old broad. Focused, diligent, faithful, judgemental, authoritarian, and all around intimidating. She was the force and structure my mom needed to find meaning in her life and she scared the shit out of me as a child.

Sister Bias coined herself my "spiritual grandmother," although she was less of the sweet fairy-godmother type and more like Bette Davis in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane. In her handwritten card, she told me that my day of baptism was the most important day of my life because I was dedicating my life to Jehovah. I knew somewhere in my 12 year-old mind that her remarks were not true and so began years of pretending to like people because Jehovah told me to be friends with everyone, even grumpy old Sister Bias.

My adolescence was pocked by a constant stream of disingenuous behaviors which revolved around trying to please the Jehovah's Witness authorities and grow up sensibly in the lesbian capitol of America: Northampton, Massachusetts.

In my more recent years, I've deprogrammed much of the doctrine, xenophobia, homophobia, and delusions of the Jehovah's Witnesses. Unfortunately, some of the more deep-seated social traits still arise from time to time.

As kids, we could only be friends with other Jehovah's Witnesses. All other children were going to perish in Armageddon, so obviously we didn't want to get too attached. The problem was: most of the other Jehovah's Witness kids sucked. They didn't want to read People magazine or jump rope or listen to Gloria Estefan tapes. They wanted to play softball and watch Sports Center on ESPN even though the season premiere of House of Style was on MTV. How was I supposed to plan my next season of door-to-door preaching outfits without Cindy Crawford's expertise? I hated them all, but they were "good association" so I had to play along.

I realize now that this formed a level of diplomacy in my personality that I struggle with, even today. While I find it easy to make friends, I have a hard time drawing boundaries or backing off when I really don't want to be friends with an individual any longer. There have been 3 people in particular who I have strung along in friendships because I felt as though I had to be friends with them. Eventually my resentment of these friends escalated to the point that I had to end the relationship. All 3 "break-ups" were ugly and could have been avoided had I acknowledged my dissonant behavior earlier in the relationship and called it quits. My Bible-trained diplomacy over-rules my innate understanding that you don't have to be friends with everyone.

The most recent example happened today. I dropped out of a wedding for a girl who I was never that close to, who imagined a close friendship that never transpired. The break was ugly and painful for both of us. It has been playing out like a bad Mexican soap-opera, flush with runny mascara and mangled blond hair-extensions. Aye dios mio.

With this in mind, I wrote to another former friend who I broke up with by giving him the silent treatment. Totally unacceptable behavior on my part. In an attempt to acknowledge this personality flaw, I wrote him this:

"I was thinking about you this weekend. Essie and I are moving to Austin in a few weeks and I've been relishing my remaining time in Boston. I was in the South End on Saturday night and remembering all the late nights at Club Cafe and Eagle and Francesca's and trips to P-town and on and on.

I owe you an apology for disappearing out of your life before you moved to Florida. I needed space in our relationship and instead of being honest with you, I dealt with it passive/aggressively and for that I'm sorry. I look back fondly on the time we spent together and will always appreciate your generosity with I was jobless and your emotional support when I was dealing with alienation from my family. You were a very loyal friend and I treated you horribly. You did not deserve abandonment.

I hope you look back on our friendship with as much laughter and happiness as I do."

Maybe I'm just trying to excuse the guilt I have for the bride I broke up with, but it felt really good to write to someone I had wronged and try to learn from and dig deeper into the etiology of these experiences. I want to be better than this. I want to say "enough is enough" before things get out of control. I want to stand up for myself and my unhappiness by grabbing my jump rope and remote control and going forth to change ESPN to House of Style starring Supermodel Cindy Crawford...even if it alienates people.

"I will not pretend

I will not put on a smile

I will not say 'I'm alright for you'

When all I wanted was to be good

To do everything in truth."

-Martha Wainwright