What makes serving a mission so special? There is not really an answer that will satisfy everyone for anyone who serves, does so for their own reasons. Though I would have to say the simple answer would be blessings.

Did I feel that serving a mission would help me or cure me? Help me, yes, cure me…I was not fully convinced at that time that I was truly gay.

Did I have to admit to being attracted to men before getting my mission call? Nope, some people out there probably think that anyone who is attracted to the same gender is unworthy to serve a mission let alone be a member of the church.

To young men who are raised in the church, serving a full-time mission is something that is expected of us. Talked about when we are so young that it is, to many, an obligation to prove that you are a man of God. Anyone who chooses to not serve or is sent home early from their mission is all too often looked down upon, whispered about in negative ways, or ignored as a candidate for interaction as friends or otherwise.

At this time in my life in 2013 as I have mentioned before, I was still suppressing everything that I was feeling. Pushing aside the natural things and putting effort into a life that was expected of me. I was still happy yes, I will not deny that. My happiness only happened to be as it was because those around me were happy as I was doing what was expected of me. I did not see it at the time though as the years have passed, I have been able to see where I was at the time.

We left off with an interesting night between me and Miss Handsy which really ended any extensive communication between Her and I. We only ever had communication in the needed moments at church or when with friends. The only other time that Her and I had any interaction further than that was when my mission call came.

The day when a mission call comes is always greatly anticipated. As we submit our papers with all sorts of information there is never really an option to choose where we serve…we are called to serve where God deems us to serve. Paperwork is submitted and then it is just a waiting game. Most of us wait a few days and just breathe knowing that we have done our part and now we just wait for the mail to take its time to arrive.

I had determined to let the dorm manager know that my papers were submitted along with several other young men who were putting in their papers. Our manager made it a high priority to hand-deliver our calls to us when they do arrive. She kept them in a locked box in the office so we could not pick them up ourselves. I let her know when I would be at home for the rest of the day each week and she would text me when it arrived. I was one who would be antsy enough to ask her every evening when I returned from classes if it arrived. It took about three weeks for it to arrive and I was doing homework by the front window of the dorm when I saw her coming up the stairs with an envelope in her hands. The only time she hand delivers something is the mission calls.

I open the door after racing my roommate to it as he would threaten to open it before me and just tell me where I am going. I take the envelope and thank the manager. I close the door, lean against it and slide down the wall with my call in my hands. The long-awaited time for me to finally know where and when I will serve my mission. The next big chapter in my life is just inside the envelope in my hands. I get up and place it on the table and contact my parents. They ask for 3hours to notify everyone and get them all on video or conference calls. Family and friends. My roommate already texting about 3 or 4 group chats spreading the news and within minutes my dorm is full of people. Some from church, others from my classes, and a few who just followed a crowd (college kids are nosy AF and always desperate to get out of homework).

Miss handsy arrives with the rest of her roommates and seems fairly calm, a cordial hello to me and she decided to sit on the floor right next to where I would be to open my call. No big deal just that I know there would be a lot of questions about the girl in the camera shot with me when I open my call (mostly from family). I was going to stand anyway so I trusted my roommate to be sure she would not be in the camera angle.

I get my parents on video and my grandparents on both sides joined the call with a few aunts and uncles. Everyone needed to be quiet so I could let my non-member family know how this would go and what it means for me to have my call and soon to know what it is and when I will leave.

The time comes and I open the envelope. In every call, there is a booklet with some brief information about the area and some general rules. Though the most important piece is the paper that has the official call to serve, the location, and my departure date. The envelope falls down and the booklet is in my hand…but no paper. I open the booklet and it is not there, either. I turn the booklet face down and shake it…as I look to the floor…there is Miss Handsy, having pulled a paper from the envelope.

READING MY CALL

I quickly snatch it from her hands and give her that look of annoyance that she felt that she could read something that was meant for me to know and to only share unless I felt like I should. Yes, I was going to tell everyone there…but for her to read it first was just plain rude. Regardless, everyone laughs because they all just thought I dropped the paper when extracting the booklet from the envelope and I let them believe that.

My hands and voice shaking I read my call…Washington D.C. North Mission. Leaving on October 3, 2013. Four months away and I will be serving a mission. I still had another month of school to go for that term. 3 months of preparation was not much time at all.

With the call having been read, there was much celebration, loud and obnoxious; plenty of heads popped out of doors and faces could be seen in windows all over the dorm. When the energy died down people began to leave with congratulations again and it was now time to just chat with family for a bit.

MISS HANDSY JUST SAT DOWN ON THE COUCH LIKE SHE WAS GOING TO STAY

My roommates had even left the dorm so I could just relax and discuss details with family. I let her know it was time to leave and she just gave me a blank stare like she did not understand why I said that. Thankfully I had muted myself on the call and let her know, AGAIN, that Her and I are not an item and that I am just going to chat with family. In a huff, she gets up and storms out without a word and I talk more details with family.

She did not speak to me again until the end of the term and even then…that was a minimal interaction. My family had arrived to pick me up from school and bring all my things home as I would not be returning to school until 2016. I did not bother to tell her when I was leaving, she was not someone who needed to know this information anyway. I am making my last trip to the car and I hear her thumping down the upper floor hallway. I turn to look at her and give an obvious sigh.

I stop out of courtesy and she stops as well, a little out of breath and I am thankful for that as she would have had me there for another hour if she could. She held out a grocery bag that was clearly full of something bulky and it was all taped up as if it was a package to be shipped out. I look at her and then at my full arms and back to her. She offers to take it to the car with me and I quickly shut that down as I did not need her talking to my parents. She puts it on top of the already decent pile in my arms and I begin to walk away.

THIS BISH FOLLOWS ME TO THE CAR ANYWAY

I get to the edge of the dorm and said it was rude of her not to offer to carry anything as I was barely keeping everything in my arms. She looks at me and I can see tears begin to well up in her eyes. I head to the car where my parents can see me at the entrance to the dorm. I put my things in the car, turn to Miss Handsy and she has tears running down her face. She goes in for a hug and I half-heartedly give her one back. She states she may never see me again and hopes that I take the framed pictures she gave me with her. I end the awkward hug and just look at her…her request was weird and she knew it. I asked what kind of pictures she gave me and she said nothing bad (there were never pictures of that kind between us anyway). I chuckle and just say I’ll think about it.

I get in the car and we drive away. Pretty sure she just stood in the middle of the parking lot until the car left her view.

What were the pictures that she gave me? These pictures were from some of the group adventures that we had with our friends and roommates. Ugly, gaudy, bulky frames and the pictures clearly were cut to exclude others from them and, in some cases, the group was cut out and she just took our images and pasted them side-by-side in the frame.

Did I actually leave on my mission when I was supposed to? Sure did! Being barely 100lbs dripping wet, in an ill-fitting suit as the suits I had were not tailored to my frame which is quite slender compared to the square build of others my age.

Have I spoken to Miss Handsy since that day I left? I did not speak to her or make contact with her until 2016 when I returned to school after my mission. Sad to say, she went downhill. Self-esteem and body image issues were worse than before my mission. Minimal contact has been maintained since, if any, really. People come and go in our lives. It is not easy for everyone to let that process happen, but necessary for us to learn and grow. Loss and gain are part of life.