Me tengo que mudar de casa

I had an interesting conversation with my landlady yesterday, who is also a friend of mine. She's a Christian, so am I, so we share that in common. She had left a note inside my apartment yesterday morning asking me to stop by and see her when I got a chance, so I went directly. I had somethings I wanted to talk to her about as well, as she had been helped herself into the apartment at 5am yesterday morning, turned on the hall light, woke me up, and made a comment about how the electricity bill was higher than it should be on account of me and my space heater. Then she walked back out. Needless to say, I was irked.

A little background info: Wilber stays over sometimes at my apartment. It doesn't mean that we're "up to no good" or engaging in debauchery. It's just that he lives in Queens, I in Brooklyn, and sometimes it's more convenient to stay over than to make the hour plus commute back home on the subway late at night.

She told me that she has rules for the apartment and one of them is that "significant others" are not allowed to spend the night. She said it has been the rules for all the previous tenants and it applies to me as well. Wilber is not allowed to stay the night. I calmly explained to her that I am an adult, capable of making my own decisions, paying my rent on time, and for her to interfere with that part of my life seems unfair. I already have a mother who takes does her job very well. I don't need another one.

I explained that I'm a Christian and make my daily decisions as such and do not believe that Wilber's staying over dishonors God. She disagrees. She has a moral objection to my homosexual orientation and my relationship. She told me that if I am not willing to abide by her rules for the apartment, then I am "at will to go live somewhere else." In other words, if I want to keep seeing Wilber and have him over in my home, then I best be on my way.

I was 1) ticked off 2) insulted 3) hurt 4) annoyed 5) ticked off again. This was the cylce of my emotions yesterday. I told her kindly, calmly, that I would likely be searching for another place to live, as her rules seemed unfair. I am not her child, I am her tenant.

I was torn up yesterday. There's this voice in my head that says "This is God telling you to wakeup, that your relationship with Wilber is not okay with Him." I hate this voice, God, how I hate it. It haunts me and eats at me and at times attempts to destroy me. It says, "Dig in deeper, hold on stronger, you can overcome anything..." It's the voice of twisted Christianity telling me I'm impure and unwhole and an abomination. I blame it on the Church, on Satan, on my own insecurities in my faith. It's wrong. It does not come from God.

The other voice says, this apartment was a blessing while it lasted, but now it's time to move on in life. Change of venue. Let's go with grace, Nate.

On my knees last night, the tears began to come and I realized the thing that hurt the most from my conversation with my landlady was the implication that her Christianity is better than mine, that she has the right answers, that she speaks as the moral authority in my life. I am angered by her insinuation that I am not the Christian I ought to be, that my beliefs are tainted, that my faith is something less than hers. I am frustrated by her judgement, coming from a sister in Christ.

So, I'll be looking for a new place to live now. Someplace where I am welcome and Wilber is welcome and hopefully, the owner/super won't come vist before 8am. I appreciate prayers.