Sexuality Happens

My pride is hurt.  A lot.

You see, my friend took me to visit the Haight area in San Francisco. It’s a little scenester, but it was nice, and a fun walk around.

We passed a coffeeshop/cafe, and decided to have dinner there – signs all over stated “Free Destiny Readings! 6-9pm”  Of course, it being free, and me being so confused about my destiny, I signed up right away, top of the list. And signed up my two friends I was with as well (because I’m such a good person, you see).

The destiny readers were two men with glasses, one in his late 20’s, early 30s, the other much older – 50s or 60s.  I sat down, and they started praying to the father in the clouds (so that they could find my “true” destiny, not the one from the earthly spirits). Apparently, everyone has a destiny – some are crushed, and they were ready to heal me if it had been, some are simple, some are more involved and curvy, etc.  But they were about to tell me mine.

The older guy started humming, and closed his eyes. Then he looked at me. “You are a true true friend – you never let people fall completely out of your life, and will do anything for your friends. Also, you are honestly honest – this is not a gift, but a character trait, which the father really likes about you.”  Ok, so far, so good. I consider myself a hardcore, true till the end type of friend, and I pride myself on being honest…sometimes to a fault. The younger one then had a vision, of light pouring out of my heart — apparently, there is something deep inside me that I need to share with others as much as possible.  The older one started talking about perhaps I’d make a good administrator or manager, as people would like being looked over by me, and that I was honest and fair, etc.  He asked me what I did — I told him I was a sexuality educator. And explained that I did workshops, and worked with queer youth, etc.

Another vision came to vision guy — he saw a sunrise with a GIANT sun, over farmland, but it all seemed a bit surreal, like the wizard of oz.  He was telling me that this meant I’d be having new insight or a giant life changing revelation in the next week or so.  As we was telling me this, the older one took the paper that started out “who is jesus” off the table, and put it on the bench next to him. He flipped their contact information sheet over in front of him…I thought maybe to draw a picture of what he had seen…but he wasn’t drawing.

Then the older one took my hands, and told me he was going to read me and was going to start chanting in a supernatural language. And then did so. His eyes flew open, and he looked at me. “Precious. Precious. Precious. Precious.” I looked around for Gollum, but didn’t see him.  You see, the Father was playing a film like thing in his head, and it just kept saying precious, and that I was a precious (I’m not sure when precious became a noun, but ok), and that it was important to the Father that I know I was precious.

I was then told that I was like a princess – definitely royalty. But I also understood my servants and slaves, and would never lord over them (Domme much?). Then vision guy saw a vision of me when I was 8, having hard words being said to me, and then affecting me for the rest of my life. I couldn’t recall anything, but told them it was possible, maybe something subconscious? Older guy told me he was having sympathy pains in his heart for me, so it must have been something big. Ergo, they both placed their hands over my heart (copping a feel?) and blessed me. And thanked the Father for making such “a precious” with a tender heart and thick skin to protect it.”  

Voila. Then they were done.  Another woman from our group went. Hers was shorter (mine was about 35 minutes, she went for 20 minutes), and they talked to her about Moses and gold light pouring from her hands. And they gave her the referral paper with the “Jesus Say This Prayer for You” spiel, and all their contact info.  Knowing that she was in my group. 

What the hell? Am I so far gone that even the missionaries don’t want me? What if I was a lost sheep, and needed a flock, and now felt so rejected by the Father?

I know I shouldn’t be upset about this, but really? How does one get rejected by MISSIONARIES?  Whose goal in life (at this moment) is to convert people?  I was so kind, so cordial to them. No laughing, no accusation, I didn’t talk about vaginas, or teh homos, or anything like that. They were nice to me, so I smiled, and participated in my destiny reading. And was then shut down.

Maybe the Father told them I was a lost cause