If you haven’t been able to tell by now, I grew up in a predominantly white area in Utah. More often than not, the white valley girl inside me comes out of my mouth. Tis who I iz, and I love and am very proud of being from Utah. I thought it was the place of good morals, good people, and patriotism; but that seems to have changed since traitor trump.
Growing up in the conservative bubble is clearly very different than growing up in most other places and I have some deeply embedded characteristics that I cherish because of it. Others I am still working on to change. Add Catholic to that mix, and you get a whole bunch of built in guilt that has proven to be a bitch to quiet down. But I iz who I tiz.
Part of my own healing process to overcome that internalized hate and realize that I’m okay and that God created me to be exactly who I am and supposed to be; that was a gift I found through writing. Which I clearly still do. It helps me purge hard feelings I have so they don’t fester into something much worse. It helped me in my own recovery too. Well, that, and realizing helping others fed that part of my soul that was wounded and broken.
Wynonna Judd said, “Let ’em see the cracks in your armor. That’s how the light gets out.”
She said it, so do.
Growing up in Layton, UT was pretty special, and I loved it. My family moved a couple of times but never far from our grandparents’ home. Small town feelings all about and everybody knew everybody. As a child, I was surrounded by the same kids for most of my life. We grew up together and shared memories ever since kindergarten. We saw each other and cared about each other.
I loved the people I grew up with and still do. It’s like they know the real me and I thought I knew the real them (and I mostly do). Over the last few years, I’ve found it difficult to recognize some of them. Even some people within my own extended family are hard to recognize.
I wrote about the following early childhood experience in a book I started to write over 20 years ago called, “Saving Myself.” Writing it helped me get through many of the mean-times I experienced and addiction. I decided on that title because I realized no one else was going to come save me so I had to it my damn self. I’d have to be my own hero. For me being my own hero is simple… I keep a roof over my head, food in the fridge and have meaningful work for my soul. I’m achieving those things.
The following is an excepert from my unpublished book and describes a time when we moved to a new neighborhood and I remember making some new friends…
I was about 6 years old; I recall playing in the sandbox of a white neighbor boy’s yard. They had their very own jungle gym that sat next to a swing set, and I remember the swing gently blowing in the wind. Back and forth …back and forth. The neighbor’s dog barked at our juvenile laughter. There were three of us boys, one- the same age and grade as me, and the other a year younger. The three of us were sitting in the fine-grained sand. In our hands were figures of cowboys and Indians but they were all one color- green. The assurance of my white “friend” helped all of us to use our imaginations to bring color into our play time. He decided that the Indians should and would now be “Mexicans”. There in my hand I had a cowboy (in my mind a white cowboy) and was told to “shoot the Mexicans; shoot them all…”. There I was, shooting myself. B A N G!. B A N G! I got him, not knowing I really wounded myself. There was so much more eager ammunition from them to be fired at the Mexicans too. Then they asked me, “Are you Mexican?” I hesitated ashamedly but replied, “Yes.” Moments later they said they could hear my mother calling me and it was time for me to go home. I left wounded but the self-inflicted shots were the most painful.
Don’t let that sad story make you feel sorry for me. Fuck them kids…lol. I don’t want pity. Just trying to paint a picture because although I wasn’t ever best friends with those racist little boys, I knew who they were and who they probably still are today. I expect racist shit from them. They probably have a traitor trump sign I their yards right now.
For every racist or bigoted story I have, there are so many others of welcoming love, acceptance, and pride. Cowboys, jocks, Mexicans, Blacks, nerds, Asians and everything in between were pretty chill and friendly with each other; at least in the schools I attended. I remember walking the halls of junior high and high school saying hello and hugging so many people who looked different than I do. (Shit, one year I was even voted most friendly person along with the beautiful Mary M.)
I thought I knew everybody. Afterall, we all pledged allegiance to the same flag since elementary school. We were all deafened by the roar of the same fighter jets flying above our heads. We were proud to live next to Hill Air Force Base and respected the military. It was engrained in us and we knew it was an honorable job. We also grew up respecting law enforcement and some of our friends’ dads were police for the Layton Police Dept.
We were all red-blooded patriotic Americans and love/d our country. I think living close to a military base does that to a young psyche. Also growing up in a small town I was subjected to who that small world wanted me to be. I remember learning as a kid that, “We are republicans.” We were taught that in school from a young age by other kids, white kids.
Back then I didn’t even know what the fuck a republican was. But I was saying it just like every other young boy, “Yeah, I’m a republican.” “We’re republicans!” Another shot… another self-inflicted wound. I just didn’t know it yet.
The reason why I’m sharing is because I know the people I grew up with are or were good patriotic citizens. I still can see a blurred memory of one of the prettiest girls in school singing, “God Bless the USA.” She would do this a few times over the years at different talent shows. Each time I’d be filled with pride and my heart would swell with love for OUR country. A total Jen/Jennifer moment could even make my eyes swell.
I thank my lucky stars
To be living here today
‘Cause the flag still stands for freedom
And they can’t take that away
I’ve been so disappointed in some of the people I grew up with. I thought real cowboys loved our country and would speak out against fascists people who have contempt for our constitution. I also thought real republicans, the kind I grew up with would speak out against evil and sexual predators.
I think I was pretty “popular” and well-liked person growing up. One thing I learned over the years, its not always easy going or voting against the grain, but its possible. I just hope these people who I think SOOO fondly of pull their fucking heads out of their asses and I pray they don’t shoot themselves right in their own freedoms that we ALL celebrated as kids.
Hey Utah Mormon women, it’s okay to vote for Kamala Harris and ensure that your daughters have the same freedoms we pledged ourselves to. You need to ensure you and all women have access to adequate healthcare. Its your right!
And I’m proud to be an American
Where at least I know I’m free
And I won’t forget the men who died
Who gave that right to me
And I’d gladly stand up next to you
And defend Her still today
‘Cause there ain’t no doubt
I love this land
God Bless the U.S.A.
I assure you its going to be okay to go against the grain and protect your freedoms and mine. You don’t have to tell anyone. It may be hard to go against the grain at first, but don’t be the victim of a self-inflicted wound. Take it from me…they take too long to heal.
If your only republican option is someone who is elderly, has 34 felonies, found guilty of sexual predation, talks so horribly about America and calls it a “garbage can”, praises dictators and vows to be one himself, has no moral compass, no religion, no accountability for his actions and can’t even speak a coherent sentence- then I hope you really are the people I thought I knew growing up and you vote BLUE to save America.
I’m trying to meet you where you are and I’m asking you to join me in voting to save our democracy. I’m pleading to the person I grew up with and that I thought I knew. You know I’m the same little homo that was the color guard in school. I fondly remember putting that flag up every morning for years, taking it down, folding it, and treating it with respect. I also remember being taught, just like you, that Russia was not our friend. We pledged allegiance to the flag and not to a person.
Have your feelings about our country changed? Am I to be the only judgey Christian Utahn that can see that he is evil? You know I tis who I iz and always have been, your friend. When the fuck did you all forget the meaning of that song or the words written in RED?
And I’d gladly stand up next to you
And defend Her still today
‘Cause there ain’t no doubt
I love this land
God Bless the U.S.A.
God Bless America,
The Happy Homo
PS Oooo, after all these years I get to be the Bible basher. Traitor trump put his name on word of God and added to the book. Although we are Americans the bible is worldwide bitches and he added The Declaration of Independence to the book. If you really think Jesus would be homies traitor trump… I don’t know you at all.
- Deuteronomy 4:2
“You shall not add to the word that I command you, nor take from it, that you may keep the commandments of the LORD your God that I command you”.
- Revelation 22:18–19
“I warn everyone who hears the words of the prophecy of this book: If anyone adds to them, God will add to him the plagues described in this book, and if anyone takes away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God will take away his share in the tree of life and in the holy city, which are described in this book”.https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/article/2024/may/06/trump-bible-review
And that bitch added to that book and Utah- vote better this election!
PSS The immigrant we need to worry about is Elon Musk. Can America revoke citizenship? Can we use eminent domain to control this Russian asset? If not, what are our options? I think he’s the one that comes after the first antichrist. He may just be the second one that is harder to get rid of. That bitch is a Russian asset. He’s scary.
PSSS Clearly I have always had an affinity for singing Jennifers.
PSSSS If you haven’t watch this yet… you should- listen!
