// NEW MONEY \\ 1.27.22 // Kill Rock Stars \\

  

LISTEN: Logan Lynn Interviewed on the Latest Episode of The Depression Files Podcast (AUDIO)

I’m the guest this week on the new episode of The Depression Files Podcast, out today on iTunes, Podbean, and at www.TheDepressionFiles.com 🎧

“With mental and behavioral health, I’m trying to break down those barriers and make it normal — and I figure it can also be fun and happy, right? Like…why stop at normal? Maybe we can all actually celebrate the joy of recovery, the joy of resilience, the joy of music, and the fact that our humanity is actually made up of all of these parts. There’s something to be celebrated in that.”

Leaving Neverland, Wherever You Are

Lots of TV talking heads screaming about how shocked they are that the adults in HBO’s “Leaving Neverland” documentary all seem to have just gone along with Michael Jackson’s predation; but sexual predators are experts at grooming entire families, and it happens slowly, over time.

This was certainly the case with what happened during my own youth. These people can sense when space exists between a child and their parents, perhaps created from previous abuse, neglect, some other type of trauma, or a need that isn’t being met at home, and they shapeshift to fill that empty space, meeting the need — not just for the victim in their sights, but for all of the grown-ups around that child. It’s easy to judge looking in from the outside, but make no mistake: These parents and families are victims of the monster, too.

When I was 16 I had a much older teacher start showing me special attention and eventually openly seduce me during a summer art program for teens that I was attending at the Pacific Northwest College of Art, and literally nobody gave a shit. Grown-ups offered me rides to and from this man’s house, where he regularly fed me and my underage friends drugs and alcohol, and had sex with me. None of this happened in the shadows. I was openly sleeping over at this teacher’s house, in his bed, showering in his master bathroom. Nothing was a secret; not to his friends, roommates, family, and coworkers — and not to mine. Read the rest of this entry »

Love Is Stronger Than Fear. Every Time. And I Am Surrounded By Love.

York Nebraska - Logan Lynns Childhood Home

30 years ago I was hurt by a family friend in the house pictured here, just beyond that upstairs window, over the course of two years. When I left York, Nebraska in 1994 I swore that I would never return…and I have kept that promise to myself and others in the years since.

My sweet mom and dad were passing through that part of the country today and agreed to take some pictures of places where I felt that I had lost myself and send them to me.

So here is this shitty house with its stupid upstairs window, in all its small nothingness. It’s not big and scary like I have grown it in my mind all these years; It’s just a house like any other house in a town like any other town. This place has no power anymore, and neither does the man who hurt me there.

I’m going back to York later this year with my family so that we can bury our shared trouble in the dirt where it first found us and make new memories there together. Love is stronger than fear. Every time. And I am surrounded by love.

If you are experiencing abuse, I encourage you to tell someone you trust. You can also contact RAINN at www.RAINN.org and they can help.

There are lots of people out here in the world who are rooting for your survival. You are not alone. Ever. ❤️

Logan Lynn: The Dangers of Being a Girly Boy

(Originally Published on The Huffington Post on 2/28/2012)

A recent study led by researchers at the Harvard School of Public Health has found that one in 10 children faces an elevated risk of sexual, physical, and psychological abuse due to gender nonconformity (meaning kids whose interests, pretend play, and activity choices before the age of 11 fall outside the bounds of those typically expressed by their assigned sex). As a result of the abuse, many will suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) by young adulthood, which can lead to a smörgåsbord of risky behaviors such as drug abuse, promiscuity, and self-harm, as well as producing physical symptoms such as chronic pain and cardiovascular problems.

Having been born one of these gender-nonconforming kids many years ago, I know firsthand the experience described in the study. These new findings suggest that even if I had not been birthed into a fundamentalist Christian cult, my parents would still have had their work cut out for them with regard to keeping me safe. (I plan to add this new info to my ever-growing parental forgiveness file as soon as I finish writing this.) Sad as it may be, from the moment I took my first breath, I was something of a moving target in this world.

Though I have identified as a cisgender male my whole life, as a kid I always enjoyed playing with dolls, making jewelry, singing, acting, and dancing — all things considered “girly” by society and, at the very least, by the mean kids I grew up around in rural Nebraska. I gravitated toward girls my own age back then, not because I wanted to be one of them but because they were nice to me, and we had the most in common. The other boys took note of these similarities, and they teased me relentlessly.

I was a sweet, sensitive kid who didn’t like sports, which made me the target of much bullying and harassment from kids my own age all the way until college… but this isn’t breaking news. Everybody already knows that we faggy kids get our asses kicked as we grow up, and most of us don’t need a Harvard study to tell us what the long-term effects of that abuse are, because we are still living them out to this day. But hey, it gets better, right?

I can’t tell you how many times in my life I have heard the argument that people turn gay as a result of Read the rest of this entry »

Logan Lynn: Unhappiness is a Strange Muse

(Originally Published on The Huffington Post – 1/2/2012)

The first 12 years of my career were spent writing songs about loss and longing, so in some way I suppose I owe the fact that you are even reading this on The Huffington Post to my own unhappiness. Historically, I have felt most at home in heartbreak, both in art and in life. It’s largely what I knew growing up, so everything else felt foreign and wrong as an adult. For years, people being kind to me felt painful. I was terrified of anyone actually knowing me. It’s pretty fucked-up — and I still struggle with this. It’s a jagged part of my makeup that I will most likely be working on for the rest of my days.

I first learned about how sad the world can be when I was 7 years old, courtesy of a much older family “friend” who just couldn’t keep his hands off me. I won’t get into the specifics around the abuse suffered, but it was ongoing and horrible and went undetected for many years. The scars from this experience in my formative days have done just that: they formed me. They changed who I was and how I looked at the world, and they altered my sense of self at its core. All of this was complicated by the fact that I also happened to be a gay man born into a fundamentalist Christian home. It was a perfect storm for me to go completely apeshit, which I did.

I began experimenting with drugs and music around the same time, both before my 11th birthday. By 14 I was a full-blown, cigarette-smoking, drug-addicted alcoholic with headphones and a notebook who fancied himself a singer-songwriter. Those same old scars now rooted me on as I built an impenetrable wall of sadness and sound around myself. They gave me words and melodies to purge the feelings that could not be killed chemically, and I began seriously writing and recording music when I was 17. Those first songs would become my debut record, GLEE, which was released in 2000. At the time of its initial release, nobody knew what I was trying to do. I recall a lot of head scratching and people being really uncomfortable with the lyrical content, mostly, so I decided to take a break and focused solely on partying my brains out for the next five years.

In 2006, prompted by more unfortunate heartbreak of the drugged-out variety, I Read the rest of this entry »





 

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