For much of my life, I have advocated for the dignity, visibility, and rights of gender and sexual minorities. I have encouraged people to live honestly rather than hide behind social expectations. I have spoken publicly about my own life and sexuality for decades, often knowing that openness can invite both support and hostility.<\/p>\n
Yet one of the most unsettling experiences I have faced has not come from political opponents, religious conservatives, or anti-LGBT campaigners.<\/p>\n
It has come from a person who insists that she loves me.<\/p>\n
At first glance, many people might think this sounds flattering. Some might even ask, “What is wrong with being loved?”<\/p>\n
Nothing.<\/p>\n
There is nothing wrong with love.<\/p>\n
But there is something deeply unsettling when affection survives every rejection and refuses to recognize a boundary. Love, when it is real, should be able to hear \u201cno.\u201d It should be able to respect another person\u2019s truth, even when that truth is painful.<\/p>\n
Years ago, a woman living in the United Kingdom as an asylum seeker came to meet me when I was a Buddhist monk. Like many lay supporters, she offered food and we exchanged a few words. That was all. It was a brief and ordinary encounter, the kind that happens often in public religious life.<\/p>\n
A couple of years later, after I had left monastic life, she began sending messages expressing admiration and respect.<\/p>\n
Initially, I thought little of it. Public figures receive messages all the time. Some are appreciative, some critical, and most are harmless. I assumed this was simply another expression of goodwill from someone who had once met me in London.<\/p>\n
Then one day she asked to meet me because she had something important to discuss.<\/p>\n
I agreed to meet her in a public place.<\/p>\n
During that conversation, she raised the possibility of marriage. As we talked further, it became clear that she hoped marriage might also help resolve her immigration difficulties in the United Kingdom.<\/p>\n
I declined immediately.<\/p>\n
I explained that I would never enter into a marriage of convenience. Apart from being dishonest, it would have legal consequences. More importantly, there was another obvious problem: I am gay.<\/p>\n
My life has been public for decades. Anyone can search my name online and discover my history of activism and my openness about my sexuality. She knew who I was. Her mother knew who I was.<\/p>\n
There was no misunderstanding.<\/p>\n
I told her clearly that I had no interest in marrying her\u2014or any woman, for that matter.<\/p>\n
I assumed that would be the end of the matter.<\/p>\n
Instead, it was the beginning.<\/p>\n
Later, she insisted that immigration had never been the real reason. She said she genuinely loved me. She spoke of destiny, soulmates, future lives, and a bond she believed existed between us. In her mind, what I had said was not a refusal but a challenge, something to be overcome through devotion.<\/p>\n
I was uncomfortable, not because she had feelings, but because she seemed unable to accept that those feelings were not returned. Feelings, however intense, do not create entitlement. They do not erase another person\u2019s autonomy.<\/p>\n
I told her repeatedly that I was not interested in a romantic relationship.<\/p>\n
I explained that I am attracted to men, not women.<\/p>\n
I even told her that I regarded her more as a daughter than a potential partner.<\/p>\n
I asked her not to contact me again.<\/p>\n
The messages continued.<\/p>\n
Phone calls.<\/p>\n
Emails.<\/p>\n
Social media accounts.<\/p>\n
Letters.<\/p>\n
Parcels.<\/p>\n
Gifts.<\/p>\n
When one account was blocked, another appeared. When one email address was blocked, several more followed. The persistence was relentless, and over time it became less like affection and more like intrusion.<\/p>\n
Even today, years later, my Gmail spam folder continues to collect messages from her. Sometimes dozens arrive in a single day. Sometimes hundreds accumulate before I notice them. It is as though the silence itself has become a space she cannot tolerate.<\/p>\n
Some messages are sad.<\/p>\n
Others are disturbing.<\/p>\n
She has described me as a divine being. She has written that we are destined to be together for seven lifetimes. She once told me she had consulted tarot readers in the hope that I would fall in love with her. On several occasions she has sent religious offerings and ritual items to my address, as if spiritual objects might persuade reality to become something else.<\/p>\n
Whenever she learns that I am in London, there is a chance she will appear.<\/p>\n
More than once she has waited outside my building.<\/p>\n
More than once she has rung my doorbell.<\/p>\n
What troubles me most is not her affection but the absence of reciprocity. Relationships cannot be created by determination alone. They require two people who wish to be there. They require mutual recognition, mutual consent, and mutual respect. Without those things, even the most passionate declaration becomes a burden.<\/p>\n
Somewhere in our popular culture we have romanticized persistence. Bollywood films, Nepali films, songs, and novels often celebrate the lover who refuses to give up. Persistence is portrayed as proof of sincerity. We are taught to admire the person who keeps trying, who keeps waiting, who keeps believing that love will eventually be rewarded.<\/p>\n
In real life, however, persistence does not always feel romantic.<\/p>\n
Sometimes it feels exhausting.<\/p>\n
Sometimes it feels intrusive.<\/p>\n
Sometimes it feels frightening.<\/p>\n
This experience has also reminded me how poorly understood sexual orientation still is. There remains a belief in some people’s minds that homosexuality is somehow negotiable, that the “right” woman can change a gay man if she loves him enough. It is a fantasy that has caused pain to many people, especially those whose identities are treated as temporary or incomplete.<\/p>\n
That is not how attraction works.<\/p>\n
No amount of sincerity can create mutual attraction where none exists.<\/p>\n
No amount of prayer, pleading, or persistence can transform a person\u2019s orientation.<\/p>\n
Perhaps the saddest part of this story is that I do not hate this woman.<\/p>\n
I do not wish her harm.<\/p>\n
I have avoided involving the police, partly because I understand that loneliness, fantasy, obsession, and emotional vulnerability can sometimes drive people to behave in ways they otherwise would not. I have even spoken with her mother, who appeared distressed by the situation and pleaded with me not to pursue legal action.<\/p>\n
I recognize that there is a human being behind all of this.<\/p>\n
But there is also a human being on the receiving end.<\/p>\n
For three years I have tried patience.<\/p>\n
For three years I have tried understanding.<\/p>\n
For three years I have hoped that silence, distance, and clear communication would eventually bring the matter to an end.<\/p>\n
They have not.<\/p>\n
Perhaps that is why this experience stays with me. It has made me reflect on how often we speak about the right to love while paying too little attention to the right not to be loved by someone we do not choose. We celebrate desire, but we do not always talk enough about boundaries. We praise devotion, but we do not always ask whether devotion has become possession.<\/p>\n
Affection cannot be negotiated.<\/p>\n
Attraction cannot be argued into existence.<\/p>\n
And a relationship cannot be built by one person alone.<\/p>\n
Sometimes the kindest thing we can do\u2014for ourselves and for another person\u2014is accept reality, however painful it may be, and let go. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
For much of my life, I have advocated for the dignity, visibility, and rights of gender and sexual minorities. I have encouraged people to live honestly rather than hide behind social expectations. I have spoken publicly about my own life and sexuality for decades, often knowing that openness can invite both support and hostility.
\nYet one of the most unsettling experiences I have faced has not come from political opponents, religious conservatives, or anti-LGBT campaigners.
\nIt has come from a person who insists that she loves me.
\nAt first glance, many people might …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":49,"featured_media":14423,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[20,621,492,490,3,2065],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14422","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-current-issue","category-news","category-opinion","category-slider","category-society","category-top-stories"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pahichan.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14422","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pahichan.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pahichan.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pahichan.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/49"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pahichan.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14422"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/pahichan.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14422\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14424,"href":"https:\/\/pahichan.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14422\/revisions\/14424"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pahichan.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/14423"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pahichan.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14422"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pahichan.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14422"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pahichan.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14422"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}