Ty is getting married. To a girl (AKA women).
Check out this excerpt from their wedding blog:
Halfway through the two weeks, over the course of several phone calls, we talked about how we loved each other and we each acknowledged out loud that we were thinking marriage. The conversation naturally evolved to when and where we would get married. The next morning, Ty called the Salt Lake Temple and scheduled our wedding. Things were feeling pretty set already...and then Ty changed his relationship status on Facebook to say he was engaged to me.
No, there is no mention of Ty being a big gay anywhere in their official life story! The gay, as it were; remember, Ty wrote the book on being a gay Mormon.
More accurately, Ty wrote the book on being a hopelessly repressed gay Mormon. His book outlines his commitment to celibacy. On CNN he declared his commitment to the entire country. In person at Matis family gatherings he quietly soaked up the adoration of countless other repressed gays. They wanted him and he knew it.
He still knows it, by the way.
You can probably sense my disdain for the man. He represents everything wrong with the gay-meets-Mormon universe. Is is impossible to be a complete human being and celibate. Period.
And that's why I don't like Ty. Or it was... until today.
Today I found out he's getting hitched. To a lady. And it's not that I'm upset he'll be sexing a player on the other team. Gay guys sleep with women sometimes, no big. No, the bad part is the using.
He's using her. She gets him into heaven. Finally, no more guessing about the fate of a gay celibate Mormon. No more hoping the celibacy thing pans out after death. Nope. Once he
pops that cherry punches that ticket he's guaranteed a seat on the Heaven Express.
He'll never see her as a women. That Sister of God may as well be a crowbar he slips between the pearly gates. Unless he needs liquid oxygen and a hammer because the Pearly Gates are padlocked after hours, in which case he can think of her as that.
She'll never be loved in that relationship. Not like a wife should be loved. He'll like her, sure. A baker likes flour. A judge likes justice. Anyone can like a tool, a ticket, or a pet.
That's the crime. That's why I don't care for Ty Mansfield. Because he is willing to bet his theological theories against her entire life.
But at least he'll finally get the batch of gay kids his karma so desperately requires.