Dear Governor Pence,

Dear Governor Pence,

Perhaps you don't realize this, so I thought I would let you know, but being an American is not about hate or only one religion.

America was founded on Religious Freedom, yes. But freedom for ALL religions. Not just Christianity.

The pledge of Allegiance says "with Liberty and Justice for ALL."

The Constitution says "We hold these truths to be self-evident that ALL men are created equal."

From the beginning America was supposed to be a place of freedom. A place of equality.

However, this bill is NOT about Freedom. It is about government approved discrimination, racism, bigotry, etc. and a way to bypass almost any law. I don't know if you know this, but the RFRA is NOT working for the benefit of ALL in the other states that have it as law.

How can you deny hard-working Americans their RIGHTS simply because they live differently than you?

Would this bill be going through if it had been presented by a Muslim person who wanted to deny entry to Christians or Jews? Will it change if that happens? Will it be considered religious persecution in that scenario?

The world is NOT all White, Straight, Cisgender, Christian, Men.

It is made up of ALL types of people!

You have not only made me ashamed to be called a Hoosier, but ashamed to call myself an American.

Sincerely,
Sarai.

A review of "Cousin Vinny" Agnello.

Dear Louis Anthony "Cousin Vinny" Agnello (or "10 reasons I asked if there was another way out of Barnes & Noble"),

1. I am not public property able to be touched because I'm in your space. Just because we are inhabiting the same area does not make me less than human or give you the right to just touch when you feel like it. Did I give you permission?

2. Bragging about your Stripping days in the same breath as you're bragging about how wonderful your book is does not make me want to read it. Especially when you keep saying you are a "messenger" (the "from God" being implied by your "I have some spirituality in me" comments).

3. You don't even KNOW ME, so how can you "guarantee" that YOUR book is going to be my "favorite book?"

4. You're trying really hard to get me to buy your book, but I feel like you're really just trying to explain to me why your penis is the biggest the world has ever seen. And I'm sorry, but I'm just not buying it.

5. Memorizing your laminated accolades doesn't make you seem cool, it makes you seem pathetic.

6. I am half tempted to read your book simply to give it a bad review. Seriously, you tell me how the writing is "the best" and that your story is "the most original" (fun fact: You're not original) and that the copies you are trying to hock are going to be "collector's items" because you are leaving that particular publisher, but I read a sample while I listened to you ramble and your writing style is similar to a 13 year old's. Seriously, I've seen better writing styles in Children's books. You write like you talk. Not very well.

7. You're visiting small towns in the Bible belt, of course this book is going to "sell like hot cakes."

8. Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. You play like you're the "Devil" just for a scenario, but you're in my face telling me I'm worthless. The difference, as I told you, is that I KNOW I'm NOT worthless. My worth is more than reading your book though. Seriously, how could you possibly think that would make me want to read it? Pretending that you are the Devil and that this book is going to save me from Suicide and save my soul... Dude, you don't even know my Soul!

9. "The Devil's Glove" is a terrible name. It sounds worse than cliched. And trust me, I've read some pretty cliched books. (Usually in the genre you are in)

10. "Are you big readers?" Nope. I walked into Barnes & Noble because I like the scenery. Never read a book in my life.

I could go on and on, really. This was the worst meeting with an author I've ever had. And I didn't want to meet you in the first place! Thanks for telling me all about your schedule though, because I now know to avoid B&N until Friday when you leave for St. Louis.

Sincerely,
Sarai.

Post Script: Don't laugh at me because I said "Joe Pesci does not endear me to your book." I was being quite serious. Going by his character name really doesn't make you more likable.

Injustice

Customer: Its an invasion of my privacy to put my middle name on that ID! Its bullshit! I should have a choice! I should have a say! I'm going to get my documents legally changed to just show my middle initial!

Dear Customer,
I am sorry that your life is so perfect that the only thing you have to bitch about is whether or not you have a say on what we put on your ID.

Seriously, some of us are being told that a CORPORATION's religious rights are more important than our right to insured contraceptives.

Some of us are being told "sorry about your child's death, but guns don't kill people."

Some of us have our bodies more regulated than GUNS. OUR BODIES.

So please, keep bitching over your middle name. Really, it makes me feel so sorry for you.

Want to talk about invasion of privacy? The government wants to control what I do with my vagina, uterus and ovaries! It wants to tell me what I can and can't do with MY BODY.

Go get your name changed. Go for it. Waste hundreds of dollars on getting everything changed to your middle initial. And then come back in to get a new ID and pay all over again.

Can we talk about Voter ID laws for a minute? Can we talk about how people who are in love can't get married? Can we talk about gun laws? Could we talk about something that actually FUCKING MATTERS for just a hot second?

Get the fuck over yourself.

sincerely,
Sarai

Welcome to Womanhood

Dear Gentleman in the Body- Wash/ Feminine Hygiene products aisle,
You got flustered while I was looking at the pads and trying to decide which ones I'd prefer to get. You made your anxiety quite plain when you practically whined at your daughter about "Can we get out of this aisle now?" I'm sorry that the proof of my womanhood makes you so uncomfortable. It makes me super uncomfortable because I can tell you it is no picnic.

Its nauseating to pass blood clots. The cramps, back ache and migraines are exhausting. The mood swings, the pain, the blood, its all fucking miserable. You know what does NOT help?

Your attitude towards it.

Yes, its gross. It would be awesome if I could just get a little note from Mother Nature saying "Congrats! We're not pregnant, see you next month!" But that isn't how it works. Unfortunately the proof of my not having conceived is currently ruining my underwear.

You know what would be helpful? A small smile of sympathy. Or, just acting nonchalant. Your agitation did nothing to soothe me. Quite the opposite in fact. I laughed it off to my mom and one of my friends, but your attitude of agitation and mild disgust makes ME feel disgusting. As if I didn't feel disgusting enough as is. Think about what you are portraying for your daughter, who was picking out body-wash. You are showing her that she should be ashamed of what she has absolutely NO control over.

You're implying that you wouldn't stoop to buy such things for her by making it seem like a shameful thing to buy. Why do we shame people for things that are not in their control? Sex drive, sex life, sexual health, etc.

I can't change how the human body works. I can't change how MY body works. But YOU can change your attitude towards it.

Sincerely,
The girl on her period trying to decide which product would work best.  

Its the same as lying...

I just can't deal with the emotional upheaval you cause me.
If you tell me that you are going to do something, DO IT.
If you aren't going to do something, TELL ME. Don't feed me a fucking line.
Telling me you will and then you turn around and don't is the same as lying to me.

You'd think I'd have learned by now. You'd think I'd know better than to believe you, but I don't apparently. I'm a stupid girl who puts her faith in you over and over and over and over. Far more than I should. Its not just that you let me down. Its not just that you change your mind.

Its that you say one thing, but you do another.
Its that I was looking forward to these things. I had put my hopes into your hands and you threw them on the ground.

And you know, it was your fucking idea in the first place, so I shouldn't be this upset, but goddamn, I was looking forward to it.

You wonder why I don't ask you to do things with me. Go places with me. Etc.

You always bail on me. I can't trust you to follow through with something. There is always an excuse. Always. Sometimes, its a valid one, but more often than not it just comes across as a fucking waste of breath. Don't tell me you are going to do something and then not do it. Don't tell me that you are going to do something and then give me some flimsy excuse later. It isn't fair to me.

And its the same as lying to me.

In Defense of Short Hair

To the frat boy who seems to think that short hair automatically makes a woman ugly,

In case you haven't looked in the mirror recently, you aren't such a peach yourself.

I promised myself that I wouldn't stoop to your level, because that would be insulting to ME. And my mother used to say "If you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all." However, my mother also taught me to stand up for what I believe is right. So, instead of letting you continue, I'm going to stop you right there and I won't let you finish.

Boys (I wouldn't call you a man, because real MEN don't act the sexist pig) like to claim that sexism doesn't exist. And, if it does, it is most definitely MISANDRY, because Feminists are all man-hating bull dykes who make it impossible for a perfectly nice man to live with his simple pleasures. Feminists come in and ruin a perfectly good party or a perfectly good lay or a perfectly good "dumb blonde" joke because they're ugly and can't get a man.

The funny thing is that the term "feminist" is not limited to women of a homosexual nature. In fact, there are a lot of MEN (there's that word again and, no, it doesn't mean what YOU think it means) and women of varying sexual orientation, skin color and beauty make up the word. You think you can set limits, but in reality, it has to do with a collective conscience. All of us, who are living in the 21st century, realize that NONE of us are EQUAL until ALL of us are EQUAL. Meaning, that women should be able to *gasp* cut their hair, shave or not shave, dress how they want, etc. All things that men have been able to do.

And yes, Misandry does exist! It exists because BOYS believe that MEN can't express any feminine traits without being "gay," "pussy-whipped" or "weak." Misandry exists because BOYS don't know how to be MEN and they live like petulant assholes for the rest of their lives.

So, welcome to the 21st Century. Believe it or not Women can do any of the following:

* Vote
* Have Sex with WHOMEVER THEY PLEASE
* Dress how they want
* CUT THEIR HAIR
* Drive
* Have as many children as they want
* Go where they want
* Read
* Write
* Not shave their legs, privates or under-arms
* Own their own property
* Get a divorce from an asshole who thinks cutting their hair makes them ugly

Sincerely,
The Girl whose Husband helped her cut her hair short, because she wanted it that way, and who is still beautiful despite your stupidity.

Fighting Racism

Dear Sir,

Originally I would've said that your service was one of the best I've ever been too. And that would be true. I've been in church for most of my life, so I've heard a lot sermons. It is no light compliment to say that it was among the best.

However, the message of your sermon was rendered completely hollow and pointless for me after the comments at dinner after service.

I understand that Mr. P. is not a part of your "flock" and therefore not under your "jurisdiction" so to speak. However, the "joke" he made about our President was not only crass and tasteless, but racist. Being a minister, a speaker for God, you still should have stopped the jokes. And, despite what you said about racism being only aimed at skin color, it was racist toward a different religion as well. One that neither of you know anything about, besides what you've heard in a biased post 9/11 media, I'm sure.

So, here's a bit of a history lesson for you, Islam stems from the same Abrahamic roots as Judaism and Christianity. Islam follows Abraham's other son, Ishmael, as the promised son. Islam is also no more bloody than Christianity and the "terrorists" are such a small percentage of the overall religion as to be likened with "Westboro Baptist Church." The Qur'an, in point of fact, praises Jesus as a prophet of the one true God, Allah, who goes by many different names... Much like Jehovah.

Next point: the Bible says that we are to respect those in authority over us (Romans 13:1-3), as in Government officials. So, whatever President Obama's politics, you are still supposed to honor him as a person placed in authority over you by God. Another verse that comes to mind is "Judge not lest ye be judged." (Matthew 7:1-5) or, if I were to refer to your sermon, "Love one another" (John 13:34-35).

Which brings me to my next point. You said "God is Love." That the only way God could stop being Love would be to stop being God. What is the opposite of Love, sir? I believe that is "Hate." And racism comes from a place of hate. The opposite of God is Satan. The opposite of Love is Hate. Going back to what you said about God is Love, if God is Love then there is no room for hate. And therefore we shouldn't speak words that come from a hate filled place.

Next Point: Racism has almost nothing to do with the color of one's skin. It has to do with preconceived notions and stereotypes. So, being Polish is not the same as being "Polack." And making jokes about someone's intelligence (or lack there of), no matter what you are making the joke about (their hair color, their eye color, etc) is not kind. Nor loving. Please refer to Philippians 4:8.

All of this being said, due to your lack of practicing what you preached, I lost all of the meaning in your message. And all the respect that I had gained for you because of your message.

Sincerely,
Sarai.

Dear Younger Self,

Dear Younger Self,
Tonight I realized something about us, staring at the loaves of "Sunbeam" bread with "Not by bread alone" on the packaging and the little girl's head bowed in prayer.

Donnie said something then, when I refused to buy that bread and picked up a different brand, that made sense. He said that, in a way, the way we grew up was good for me. In that, it caused me to look at things, question things, develop my own opinions, question why I have those opinions.

It was awful, what we went through. I wouldn't change a moment of it though. Everything we have been through, everything we've done was for a reason.

I have to believe it was for a reason.

The majority of the time, you will like who you are. Even though there is still the underlying self-loathing. Even though you still question your every decision. Even though you wish you could just fix everything and make it perfect.

The trials, the tribulations, etc. I promise they will be worth it. At the very least, I believe they will be worth it.

love,
Me.

De-criminalize the Human Body.

Dear Radio Station [I used to enjoy listening to],
Sad to say that I un-liked your page [on Facebook] today because of comments made about Breast Feeding in public causing people to "lose" their appetite.

Would you like it if you were forced to eat your dinner in a public restroom or a hot car or under a stuffy blanket?

Breasts were intended for the feeding of children and if some people can't be adult enough to handle that a child is hungry, maybe they shouldn't be eating in public.

sincerely,
Sarai.

With love to Russia

My darling Russia,
next to the United States you have been my biggest supporter on my blog(s). And, truly, it isn't your fault that Vladimir Putin is such a jerk-face that he has now relegated Homosexual/Bisexual/Transgendered people into a myth that Christians tell to frighten their children into submission.

Be brave, sweetheart. The world is changing. We are the ocean and we are shifting. Take heart in that there are those of us who believe in LOVE, no matter WHO you love or WHY. Be brave because one day there will be people, like Mr. Putin, who are no longer taken seriously and are merely ignored. I don't know when that day will come, but it WILL.

In the meantime, I still love you, dear Russia. And I still can't wait to visit you someday.

with much love,
Sarai

Dear Pat Robertson,

Dear Pat Robertson,
Its not very often that you have the power to so completely shut down my mental capacities that it takes me this long to recover. But boy, have you really outdone yourself this time!

On your worst days you are ranting about how there needs to be a "vomit" button on Facebook so you can click it any time you see homosexuals kissing or how Haiti has supposedly made a pact with the Devil. And let's not forget your comment on Feminism: "a socialist, anti-family, political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians."

I could spend a decade writing about just how WRONG you are on SO many topics, but today is not that decade.

However, this time I'm going to talk about something you said that actually made me... move toward tolerating you. However, I'm very confused. VERY confused.

"I think there are men who are in a woman's body," he said. "It's very rare. But it's true -- or women that are in men's bodies -- and that they want a sex change. That is a very permanent thing, believe me, when you have certain body parts amputated and when you have shot up with various kinds of hormones. It's a radical procedure. I don't think there's any sin associated with that. I don't condemn somebody for doing that." (huffington post)

Wait... Did you just say it was okay to be transgendered?!

 Hell just seriously froze over. Satan's ass is getting freezer burn right now.

The thing I don't understand is this: You are so grossly homophobic and like to back it up with outdated verses from an outdated book, but you are cool with a woman becoming a man or a man becoming a woman?

Wouldn't that go directly against your beliefs? I mean, God makes no mistakes right? So why was this person born a man when they were supposed to be a woman? Wouldn't that IMPLY that God isn't as perfect as we are led to believe?

And if a woman is born a man, but becomes a woman and has sex with men, wouldn't that make her a homosexual? I mean, she was born a MAN and she has sex with MEN. Doesn't that kind of spit in your belief pudding?

And I'm not knocking anyone who is transgendered. I still feel like a man trapped in a woman's body and it has been a big struggle for me to determine if I can be happy as I am (as a woman) or if I want to change my body. I am actually really glad you said something like that, because it gives me a small (VERY SMALL) bubble of hope for the human race as a whole.

I just have one really serious question for you: Are you on drugs?

sincerely,
Sarai

A God Complex

Dear God,
My mother wonders why you and I aren't on speaking terms. She wonders why I no longer believe in you. It's obvious to everyone that I wanted to. I've tried to.

The reason, God, is that I can't trust you. It all comes down to that, really. I can't trust you to be the "loving" and "benevolent" God people claim you are. I can't trust the God of the Bible. I can't trust in you at all.

You don't wonder why, because you are omnipotent, or so they say. But in case there is any confusion, I'll spell it out for you.

When I was a little girl I was molested by a friend. A girl friend. And I realized that I liked girls. I was intrigued by the idea of a vagina and breasts. I wanted to touch and caress and prod these things. I wanted to learn more about them. I wanted to be sexual with these body parts, even though I had no idea what that meant, because I was far too young to know what sex was.

I wasn't completely naive. I realized, quite quickly that being with girls, while being a girl, was very wrong and that I shouldn't be having those feelings. So I prayed that you would make me a man. I asked you to make me a man, because then I could be with a woman and you wouldn't hate me. I could speak in Church, be a pastor, do anything I wanted to; if I were a man. I developed the worst kind of penis envy.

As I got a little older, I realized that becoming a man would actually make you hate me as well, because I would be changing the person you had made. The person you created would be altered and, in reality, I would still be a woman sleeping with a woman. And then there was the pesky problem of my attraction to men as well.

If you created me, then am I not perfect as I am?

The other reason I can't trust you, God, is because of ___. You allowed him into our lives. You allowed him to abuse us. You allowed him to break us. You allowed that. You didn't have to. You didn't have to stand by and just watch. You could've saved us, because you are all powerful, are you not?

Instead, we were beaten, starved, abused, etc. for fifteen years. FIFTEEN YEARS, God. Are you listening? FIFTEEN. Not two or three. FIFTEEN. My mother believed you wanted us to be there. That you brought him to us. That you are good and know everything. You had a reason, a purpose.

What kind of purpose did you have?

What possible purpose could you have, allowing a tyrant to belittle, berate, beat and abuse two small children? What reason is there for that?

What greater purpose was served while my brother screamed for mercy? While he cried out to YOU? What greater purpose was served there, God?

You allowed men into our lives. Men who claimed to be of you. You allowed them to play puppeteer with the tyrant you had already given us. You allowed cruelties that still give me nightmares.

___ used to say that you were a gentleman. That you allowed everything to happen because it had to happen to make us who we are. He would say that while he made excuses for his abuses. He was abused, so he didn't know any better. His sexuality was damaged by his parents, so it was okay to damage mine and my brother's. He was damaged, so that gave him the right to continue the damage. He made excuses for everything, even for you.

Yes, I'm angry. I'm an atheist because I am angry. Because I have lost all the belief I ever had in you.

Can you blame me?

Mon frère

Mon frère,
I am sorry. I am sorry that I didn't protect you from ___. I'm sorry I wasn't able to protect you from _______ or ___. I am sorry that I let my own fears prevent me from being strong when you needed strength the most. I am sorry I didn't rescue you and that because of my weakness you were so damaged by someone who should've protected us.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that saying it over and over isn't enough and that it won't undo all the damage that has been done.

I feel so guilty. I hear you screaming in my nightmares. I hear you crying out to God for mercy, even though I cover my ears and I run as far as I can. I can still hear it. I hear it all the time. How could anyone not understand your lack of faith in a God so cruel that he allowed such abuses to continue? That men who claimed to be from him would prescribe such cruelty?

I see your poor little burnt fingers. I see your tears and your anguish, staring at a plate of vegetables from last week. I hear your stomach growling because you've not eaten in two days. You eye the cabinets and the refrigerator, all padlocked to prevent you from eating until you've eaten those withered vegetables. How could anyone not understand your revulsion? How could anyone question?

Even when I stuck up for you, even when I tried to protect you, I failed. I failed miserably. He still tortured you. He still hurt you and I still hear you screaming when I close my eyes.

How could we believe in a God that would allow such horrors? How could we trust ever again, when the person we had trusted the most abused us?

I am sorry that ___ believed he had to be the dominant one, the alpha male. I'm sorry that I was incapable of protecting you, when I should've fought with tooth and nail. I remember being so scared for you and so scared that I, too, would be punished so severely. That I would be starved. Weren't we all starved anyway? Starved of love as well as food. I was too scared. I was a coward.

I'm still a coward. I can't stand up to him. Even now I can't protect any of us from him. I'm so sorry, mon frère. I'm sorry that saying "I'm sorry" is never going to be enough to undo the damage, to stop the hurt and the nightmares. I'm sorry that I've never been strong enough to protect you.

Wilted

Dear ____,
I believe you could never love me because you will never truly know me. I can't let you know me. I put up all the walls, even though I want to tear them down.

I do this with everyone. I want you to hate me because I'm not worthy of your love. But it would kill me if you hated me. I push you away, but I want you to be with me. I want you to love me, in spite of myself. In spite of my crushing self-esteem issues. In spite of my everything.

I want you. I want YOU.

And I don't.

I want to be taken, as I am. I want it to be time for my dreams, my hopes, my desires.

I want this lifetime to be rich with experience. I want it to be sated like a satisfied lover. I want to give you my everything.

And I don't want you.

I want the idea of you. I want the ____ I have created in my mind. The one who has grown out of childish desire and teenaged fantasies of semi-better times. I want to be more to you than I am because it would be a fulfillment of sorts. A way to be more than I am.

You want someone strong. Strong enough to counter-balance your weak moments. I am too weak. I am too fragile to even hold. I fly to pieces at the slightest jab. No. That isn't true. I bear up rather nicely in public. I bear up under a lot of pressure. Even though I feel my legs weakening. Even though I feel my everything weakening.

I'm not perfect. And I want to be. I want to be perfect for you. Even though I don't want to be perfect for anyone but myself.

You make me shine. Shine and wilt. Wilting, wilting, wilted.

That's all it takes. You shine and I long to shine too and I wilt instead.

Letting it get to You.

Dear _____,
This is ridiculous. You aren't a bad writer. You aren't "unabashedly unreadable" (which makes no sense, as I mentioned before). You need to work on your grammar and your spelling. There are a few kinks to the story, but it is a GOOD story. I wouldn't agree to help you with it if I didn't believe in its potential!

You need to take a step back and look at this. Think about this.

Do you really want to write?
Do you enjoy writing?
Is it something you want to do with your life?

If you answered yes to all three of those questions than you need to know that it is an uphill battle. You have to fight for what you want. It isn't just handed to you. If you want to write, DO IT! Don't let someone else's opinion change your desires. Don't let someone else dictate what you want to do! Work for it. Fight for it. DO IT!

Its ridiculous to suddenly just stop and say "I'm not doing this anymore."

You are acting like a child. Stop it. You are better than that! You are an intelligent and creative human being and it is demeaning to yourself to act this way.

If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't say these things. I would hate to see a bright star diminished just because he isn't appreciated by a couple of people. That's beneath you.

If you want someone to stand next to you on the uphill battle, I'm there. I'm willing, and able, to help you with your writing. I'm willing to help with grammar and spelling. Those are things I enjoy and I'm more than happy to help you with them. I am willing to be a test reader. I will be honest with you!

Don't give up. I have really enjoyed this story so far and I would hate for it to end before its even been properly finished.

sincerely, and with much love,
Sarai

A Liar, by any other name.

Dear ___,
Its fitting that you changed your name to Jacob.

Especially since it means "liar." You've spent your whole life telling lies, being hypocritical, two faced, etc. Its fitting that Jacob lied and stole from his own family. You lied about your love. You stole my youth, stole my everything.

You had Leah, a perfectly good wife, and you still kept lusting after a Rachel. Oh you were faithful, faithful in that you didn't have sex with another woman. But you were never faithful in your heart.

You believed you would be the father of nations, a king to rule. And then my mother turned out to be a Rachel in a baby sense. Unable to carry five children to term. And you stood in that pulpit, crying, mourning as if you were the only one affected by the loss. You act as if you are the only one who has ever been abused or hurt.

You talk about how your mother and father harmed your psyche (a word I'm sure you don't know how to spell or even pronounce), your "manhood," your sexuality.

What about my womanhood? My sexuality? Or _____'s manhood and sexuality? What about ______? Did it ever occur to you that you have damaged us in more ways than your parents ever damaged you?

You make excuses, hide behind your terrible childhood, adolescence.
"I was abused." You abused us.
"I was damaged." You damaged us.

Why don't you be a fucking man and own up to your mistakes? Why don't you stop whining and boo hooing?

"Oh, poor Jacob." Oh, poor you! Stop hiding behind your pathetic excuses and be a real man.

If I were a man, I would fight you. I would say all of these things to your face, because you are a coward. You will bow out. A man so deep in the closet because he hates what he doesn't understand. I wish I could make you see.

I wish I could shove your nose in all the shit you forced on us. All the pain, the heartache, the heartbreak. I wish I could force you to look at yourself and see.

Wishes are useless, however.

In the end I am left marveling at the irony of your choice in name. "Jacob hath I loved," said God. So you imagine yourself beloved by heaven. Jacob is a liar and a thief. How fitting that a "jealous" and "angry" God would love a liar like you.

Impossible

Dear ___,
You have made it terribly difficult to trust. You have made it impossible to not question, not fear, not loathe. You brought this side of me to life.

Did you hate me the entire time? Or is it just now? I can't believe anything you say. You are a liar. A pathological pervert.

Did you touch me? Did you do something to me? Those nights, when I woke up and discovered that my night-shirt had been unbuttoned and pushed to the sides, was that you?

What is this hatred that you have kindled inside of me? What am I?

I am so sick of myself. So sick of men. So sick of YOU. I can think of innumerable things I'd rather do than see you again. I can imagine numerous horrors I'd rather face than you. And you have always had the audacity to try and force your way back into my heart.

You are a worm. Lower than a worm. You disgust me. You frighten me. You make me sick. You force me to look back on our lives and see the torture marks. The scars you have left still bleed periodically. Even if you pretend they don't exist. Its almost funny, you denying all the pain you caused. Its almost humorous. Almost.

I think of our days together. I think of those times. You are a poison and I'm pushing my veins full of anti-venom. I'm trying to flush you out of my system and I can't do it. I can't rid my heart of your taproot. It is stupid that you can still make me feel like this still.

You made flying an impossibility. You dragged me out of the sky and staked me to the ground. You banished me to the darkness, left me to wither without the sun. You made love a risk. You made living a hazard. You sank all the dreams, tied me down with weights so that I would drown.

You clipped my wings so that I'd have no desire to leave the earth. Does it bother you that they have grown back?

Dear Mom,

Dear Mom,
Over the years, I have thought of many things I would like to say to you. Some of them kind and full of love, some of hurt and some of anger. There are so many things that I don't even know where to begin. I suppose I'll start somewhere and go from there.

It hurt my feelings when you told me that I needed to give up my "whimsical attraction to other women." It isn't whimsy, Mom. I am genuinely attracted to other women in a sexual manner. I can't change who I am, and I'm not sure I would want to. I suppose in my mind I thought it would be easy for you to accept me. Uncle Dick, Aunt Janice, Aunt Becky and Uncle Kevin are all homosexual. The statistic in our family is 1 in 3 is homosexual. Somehow I thought that would make you more accepting of my own sexual proclivities. I suppose I shouldn't have assumed that just because we have that statistic that you would be accepting. After all, your grandmothers never came to terms with it either.

It hurts that you are gone so much lately. I feel like I never really get to see you or talk to you. And I feel like when we do hang out you are mad at me. I feel sometimes like you just use me to take care of Chris when you aren't there and that is both annoying and angering.

I'm mad that you stayed married to W. as long as you did. I suppose it's time to admit that. I know you kept clinging to the belief that God gave him to you and I know you keep saying I need to stop being mad at God for it. But if God gave W. to us and God is omnipotent, then God is cruel. He knew what W. was going to do long before he did it. He knew that he was going to starve Chris and beat us. He knew that W. was going to take advantage of you. He knew that W. was going to take advantage of me. He knew W. was going to try to turn Hannah against us. And that he would mostly succeed. But you stayed. And I know you loved him, I know you thought it was somehow God's plan.

I'm not angry that you couldn't defend us anymore. It wouldn't have mattered. W. was going to do what he would, regardless of your intervention. He would have just shamed us into not telling you anyway.

There were good times, though Mom. I do remember some of the good points. Like learning to play chess and trips to the Children's Museum. Learning about Sacajawea and Corrie Ten Boom and heroes of the Bible. There were fishing trips and moments where I felt really close to you. I feel closer to you now than I did then.

I was afraid to be close to you. I was afraid you would die, especially after your massive miscarriage. I was afraid that if I cared more than I already did you would die and I'd be all alone. Sometimes I still feel that way. I'm afraid to love you because I know it will hurt more than anything when you are gone. And we all go at some point or another. I couldn't stand to see you deteriorate the way Grandma Bobbi did. I just couldn't.

I still feel lingering guilt from some of the thoughts I had when I was younger. Thoughts that if you, Chris and Hannah all died that you would all be better off because things were so terrible for a while there. I felt like a terrible daughter and sister because I wanted you to be gone so that you wouldn't suffer. But at the same time I couldn't imagine losing you. And I was afraid to lose you. I'm still afraid to lose you.

You're my best friend, Mom. In spite of hurt feelings and anger and fear. In spite of all that, I can't imagine what it would be like to not have you. And I can't imagine not talking to you on the phone for silly reasons or going to O'Charley's all the time. Or sharing some of my random music with you.

I suppose all of this has just been supposition to say, I love you Mom. More than any other human being on this earth. More than I could ever fully express. And even though you have hurt my feelings and pissed me off, I wouldn't be the person I am today without you. And, most of the time, I'm pretty happy with the person I am. Bisexuality, hatred for God and religion, lack of forgiveness for W., currently divergent political views and all.

love,
Sarai

Dear God,

Dear God (specifically the God of the Christians),
As my darling girlfriend has said, you are one of the most genuinely unpleasant characters in all of written fiction. You're followers are some of the most hypocritical and some of the most foul individuals I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. Not to mention the ones who are just plain batshit insane.

People murder in your name, you know. They use you as a convenient excuse for all their petty bullshit. They hide their actions behind your book. It's a funny thing really, because more than half of them have never read the thing all the way through.

I used to believe in you, you know. I wanted to be a minister. I used to take my bible out and I would preach to the trees. However, a woman shall not have dominion over man. I still have more of your word memorized than I would like (i.e. Matthew 4:4). At least it comes in handy when I'm pointing out the hypocrisy of your followers.

I used to be afraid of going to Hell. And I felt such massive guilt for my attraction to women and my burgeoning sexual affinities. Yes, Lord, I have sinned and fallen far short of the glory of you. That used to bother me. Though, to be brutally honest, I tried to be bothered by it more than I actually was. I haven't been "on fire" for you in a long time.

Mom says I need to forgive you and start talking to you again. She says you are good. I don't believe it. I don't believe in you at all any more.

Previously to this moment I used to believe that you existed in some fashion or other. Recent events however have made think otherwise. Though there are still good things that happen, making me wonder if you are behind it trying to lure me back. Like Obama winning the election. That made me wonder if you weren't real after all. Because I cried out louder than I ever have that he would win. To anything out there. Of course, if that is true, mayhaps it was Krishna or Ra answering my prayers.

Mom says I need to talk to you. She encouraged my desire to be Muslim because she believes you and Allah are the same being. Which I also agree with, for the most part. She tells me that I need to pour my heart out to you. I tell her that I don't believe in you. She refuses to believe in my disbelief. I suppose she has a right to that.

I have never felt more like an atheist than I do now. And I'm not sure if that is a good or bad thing. But I am dried up. I have felt this before. I know believing in you won't make a difference. It is just the way of things. I hate you, but I want to believe in you. Why is that?

Why do I care?

Because the little girl I was survived Hell and wants to believe it was for a reason. I want to believe I have come this far for a purpose and not because you enjoyed toying with me or because you didn't exist at all. I want to believe it was all for a better world. When in reality, I think it was because the world is sick. And I wish I could be like the girl in my favorite series and destroy the swollen and rotting portions of this world, save it from itself. I can't. I can't save the world. And you have left me with this gaping hole where my heart should be.

I tried to give it to you. It wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough. I tried to be perfect. I couldn't shake the desire to be a man. The longing to be with a woman sexually. I couldn't deny those feelings and I couldn't deny the love I had for things that were not of "you." Maybe I have been led astray. Maybe I have been wrong. But I tried. I tried, God. I tried to be a good and faithful servant. And I give up. I'm tired of fighting who I am because I am scared of some being that may or may not exist.

If you can't love me for who I am, for who YOU created me to be, how will I ever survive?

Bisexual Bias

This is my response to an article written by a student at Indiana University. You can read the article for yourself at:
http://www.idsnews.com/news/story.aspx?id=90666

Dear Sir,
In regards to your article "Bisexual bias" in the IDS, I would like to say a few things.

"I’ve had a saying for a few years now. Bisexuals are like unicorns. You really want them to exist. But they just don’t."
1. Comparing a bisexual person to unicorns is mostly, if not entirely, ridiculous.
There are many cases in which unicorns can have existed, thus leading one to believe that you are saying bisexual homo sapiens do, in fact, exist.

Examples: If we were to go completely old school Biblical on the matter, if you are one who believes in the Bible, you would find there are several verses involving the unicorn. This might lead one to believe that you were saying that bisexuals at one time existed, but don't any longer. For your in-depth research (which I am sure you did for your article) verses involving unicorns can be found in the KJV Bible, said verses being: Numbers 23:22, Job 39:9, Psalms 29:6, Job 39:10, Numbers 24:8 and Psalms 92:10.

Or, if you don't believe in the Bible, we can look at the Narwhal, oft considered the Unicorn of the Sea or any other animal with one horn.
   *The word "unicorn" stems from early 13th century Old French "unicorne" and from Late Latin "unicornus" meaning, quite literally, "having one horn." Uni- meaning "one" plus cornus meaning "horn." If we go with this, that means that anything having one horn is considered a unicorn, making them quite real in the etymological sense of the word.

I'm sure, however, that you meant them in the purely fairy tale sense of the word, being a horse with a lion's tail, a single horn protruding from its head and a billy goat's beard (or, if you prefer, Pliny's version: a creature with a horse's body, deer's head, elephant's feet, lion's tail, and one black horn two cubits long projecting from its forehead). Or maybe you meant it in the allegorical sense, which was used as a tool by the Christians to teach morals. Such morals being that a Unicorn can only be tamed by a virgin (virgin in almost any sense of that word), the Unicorn being Christ in certain tales. And dire consequences for those who pretended to be virgin as they were skewered on the horn of the beast. That doesn't seem to fit quite as neatly as your original simile, but if we're talking of backwards philosophies it seems to fit quite nicely.

"It’s very difficult in our society to believe in something as free-spirited as bisexuality."
2. It also seems very difficult, in our society, to believe in Love and Marriage being uninhibited by things such as age, sexual preferences, gender, race, religion, etc. Love is apparently tethered to concrete ideas and laws. "Free-spirited" makes it sound as though it is a childish thing. Sexuality isn't an idea that we follow, like the Flower Power movement. Sexuality is not Hippies in the summer of '69. It is a deep and personal thing, grounded in one's sense of self. It is something we all find inside of ourselves. It is longing to be with another person in the most intimate way, sharing bodies and things that no one wants to talk about because they are "shameful."  And that longing is not restrained by your narrow view of the world.

"it’s threatening. For heterosexuals and homosexuals, we have to contend with only being attracted to half of the population. Those odds aren’t terrific. For someone who’s bisexual, the world is their genital oyster. It’s actually a very picturesque image. Men, women, who cares? I’m attracted to everyone."
3. I don't understand this part at all. You say it is threatening, bisexuality that is, but don't explain how it is threatening. How does bisexuality threaten your sexuality in any way? Truly, I'm curious. Explain to me, without Biblical or personal biases, how Bisexuality is threatening in any way, shape or form. You then say that the world is a "genital oyster." That is, not only, a vile pictorial image, but also shows just how little you understand about sexuality in general.

Yes, sexuality does, often involve, genitalia. However, there is so much more to sexuality than just sex. Sexuality is a strong basic instinct, a need, a desire, an attraction. It involves emotions and physical sensations. It can be impacted by the atmosphere one grows up in. It will never leave you. It is a key part of one's identity.

You make it sound almost as if sex meant nothing except, simply, getting one's rocks off. As if a bisexual is a selfish or greedy being for being attracted to more than one sex. Bisexuality is an attraction to either gender, that is true. But often the attraction is deeper than sexual. One can be attracted to anyone; beyond their gender, religion, sexual preferences, age, race, cultural background, etc. And what one finds sexually attractive doesn't even have to be human. There are those who are sexually attracted a person's mind or even inanimate objects. Wherever humans are involved there is no strict definition for sexuality. No strict definition for anything. We are more than the limits placed on us by other, simpler, creatures.

You say that "Those odds aren't terrific" when speaking of being "only" attracted to half of the population. Being attracted to only a man or only a woman isn't terrible. The odds are fine. In fact, when did odds even enter the picture? You make it sound like a race. As if we are all in a race with one another to see who is more attracted to who. It isn't a race. It isn't a game. There are no "odds." There are only people. People who love and hate, create and destroy, write good articles and shitty ones.

"Now, I am not bisexual."
4. Clearly.

"I also can’t assert assurance on things like Bigfoot, John F. Kennedy’s assassination or the contention of Jesus’ divinity."
5. I cannot say, with certainty that Bigfoot does or does not exist. JFK was, in fact, assassinated, though by whom is still up for debate. And whilst Jesus did exist, I cannot say with certainty that he was divine. However, I also can't say with certainty when we will die. I can't say that Coca Cola is the superior of all carbonated beverages. Nothing in this life is particularly certain. Truth is defined by who is looking at it, not by what it actually is.

"The real issue has to do with the male psyche and sexuality."
6. Yes, yes it does. At last, something we agree on! It DOES have to do with the Male psyche and sexuality. Men are generally insecure about their sexuality, no matter their preferences. Everything about sex makes one insecure. The length and width of his organ, whether he is doing well, how quickly he can reach orgasm, etc. Men are generally quite insecure with anything having to do with their own emotions and their being as well. I have yet to meet a man who is completely secure with being emotionally honest. Does that mean that he doesn't exist somewhere? Does that mean I am going to have to start writing wildly inaccurate articles on male emotions?

"The same notion just doesn’t extend to heterosexual women. You’d be hard pressed to find a straight woman finding the same sexual stimulation from watching two men go at it."
7. You, sir, clearly have never met a woman willing to talk about being aroused by two men "going at it" as you so delicately put it. I myself enjoy watching two men fornicate, kiss, etc. I find it arousing when a man kisses another man. The funny thing is that you would be "hard pressed" to find a straight woman who is NOT aroused by two men having sexual intercourse. There are numerous articles you can find about straight female arousal whilst watching male on male pornography, but I'm assuming you didn't actually try to find any. Your whole article suggests a lack of study on the topic at hand.

To quote a poster on one of the response brought up by my searches: "What I find hilarious, is that so many straight men assume that women don't find it erotic, just because THEY [men] don't."

"But after years of men grind stoning women’s sexuality to the fine powder it is today, why should anyone be the wiser? Two women going at it? Crack a beer and enjoy. Two men going at it? Ultimate party foul. It’s typically pretty hard to party once the gay bomb drops."
8. I don't understand that first sentence at all. "But after years of men grind stoning women's sexuality to the fine powder it is today," what does that even mean? Did you even edit this before posting it to such a public forum? And what do you mean by "grind stoning women's sexuality"?

Two women are having sex with one another and this is suddenly a party? Do men do that? They all get together and watch lesbian porn whilst drinking beer? Someone puts in a gay porno and then all bets are off? "Gay bomb?" Truly, your word choice is ridiculously childish.

"I can’t begin to believe in bisexuality in a society where men’s sexuality isn’t nearly as fluid as women’s."
9. The problem with men's sexuality being fluid has nothing to do with whether or not bisexuality exists, but lies (once again) with the male psyche. Men seem to have this preconceived notion that it is unacceptable for them to be bisexual. Out of all the homosexual and heterosexual men I have met it comes down to this idea that they have to choose. That there is no "this" and "that." It is all "this" OR "that." It astounds me, actually, the number of men who find some other men attractive, but won't do anything with that attraction because they also find women attractive. That is definitely a problem with today's society, you are correct on that part. Society says it is totally wrong to think or exist outside of the sexuality box it has created for us.

"Recently in Hollywood, loads of successful women have come out as bisexual."
10. Hollywood is DEFINITELY a good place to look for reality and facts. Plenty of people will say whatever it takes to become famous or to have the spotlight shine a bit brighter on them. That doesn't make it fact.

"But the future may be bright. Frank Ocean is one example of a successful man who’s admitted to having a relationship with a man."
11. I find it sad that the final breath of your article is a sarcastic, and pithy, "Men in the limelight aren't bisexual so no one can be bisexual."

I am a bisexual woman. I am proud of my sexuality and who I am as a person. I have a loving husband and a wonderful girlfriend. I can't imagine going through my life without either of them. There is more to my being attracted to them than their gender. More to my love for them than their genitalia. Its people like yourself, that raise the banners of prejudice and bias against what you don't understand and don't bother to understand.

sincerely,
Sarai.