Whores, Addicts, Satanists
I don't know of anyone who became a whore from listening to Donna Summer's "Bad Girls" album.
I don't know of anyone who became an addict from watching "Euphoria".
What I do know is people who have become one or more of these things as a result of feeling rejected, judged, misunderstood, marginalized, shamed, neglected, or unloved.
What I do know is people who have become one or more of these things as a result of sexual, emotional, and physical abuse at the hand of parents, siblings, relatives, and priests.
What I do know is people who have become one or more of these things as a result of their best attempts to feel loved, desired, and important to someone else.
If you don't believe me, I encourage you to spend some time talking to one of these people.
We all want the same basic things: to feel safe, loved, and valued. We want to feel that we are needed and wanted, that if we did not show up one day, people would look in on us. How many people fear that they will drop dead in their home and not be found for a week?
The human brain is smart, regardless of intelligence level. It wants to survive, and will guide us toward anything that it thinks will increase our chances of that. Unfortunately, the brain is not very discerning when it is trying to get what it wants. So if a line of cocaine makes us feel desirable and included, the brain will tell us to snort it. The brilliance of cocaine is that it works, and works quickly. The tragedy of it is that it stops working at some point.
But if you have ever clucked your tongue at those who do drugs, ask yourself: how important is it for you to feel loved? If you rate love highly, then imagine if you didn't have it. Imagine further that you were told as a child that you were not lovable, and you were told this day after day after day after day. When you imagine this, do you think that you would be more likely to take advantage of the immediate relief that comes from snorting a line of coke?
If you have trouble imagining yourself in this scenario, then you are more in trouble than the person snorting a line, because you have probably lost some of your humanity.
***
I have never been a whore, and addict, or a satanist, but I feel a kinship to all three, because as a homosexual I have certainly struggled with feeling loved and important. Fortunately, I have people who love me, and I feel that I matter to others. But it continues to pain me that we parse out our caring to those who are easiest to care for, while those who are hard to care for are the ones who need it the most.
When I was 17 and hiding my homosexuality from my family and friends, I was welcomed by a group of misfits and punks who would hang out in Balboa Park in San Diego. Some had been thrown out of their homes, while others, like me, were looking for solace, understanding, and acceptance. The thing about misfits is that they recognize other misfits and they just don't give a fuck what your misfit-ness is about. It is like a circus where you are immediately part of the family. Family: a place where you hope to feel safe, loved, and accepted, right?
I remember how subversive it felt to hang out with this crowd in the park--I was raised to be a good Catholic boy, and had little exposure to drugs, alcohol, or sex, and yet in the park these were all bandied about with joy since, for many, they were the only way to escape feelings of shame, anger, guilt, and sadness. They didn't give a fuck where I came from, they recognized that I needed a home, and they offered it to me, as I learned to offer it to others.
To this day, I am more comfortable with those who have been cast out. You always know where you stand with these people--they will not tolerate bullshit and will call you out, but they are also fiercely loyal and will be by your side in a moment if needed.
We looked after each other. The misfits, the punks, and me.
***
We are currently in a world that holds up virtue as a measure of value, and it requires that you believe in god, are monogamous, and don't do drugs. But I have a secret to spill--one that I learned from my years listening to people as a psychotherapist, where I often hear stories that are never told to anyone else. The secret is that we are messy, gurl, mmmmmeeeeesssssssyyyyyyy. Those who end up being whores, addicts, or satanists know this, and their lives depend on how they manage the messiness. Those who stand in judgement will inevitable find the messiness oozing out of the cracks. The difference between the misfits and those who judge is that the former see the messiness as part of being human, whereas the latter see it as a flaw.
Guess who is going to win the race at the end?
