worst case scenario game

 one of the best and worst parts of having a writer's brain is the creativity. the imagination. the ability to think of 100 different scenarios and possibilities.

when you're trying to problem solve or trying to find the right words or having a discussion with someone, the ability to see a thousand different possibilities is an amazing thing.

when you're alone, and left to your own devices, however, as with any gift, it can turn into a curse.

there's things in life i'll never have the answers to. dates who have never showed up. people who made vicious comments out of nowhere. communications that have ended without resolution.

when you can think of a million different reasons and plot lines and scenarios, your ability to think of all think of all those possibilities quickly becomes...it's worst case scenario game lightning round.

it's been 10 years since my dad died. national news level died. there were a lot of questions and investigations and a gag order on the case and then it just...went away.

i never found out what happened.

there were so many questions, so many theories, so many different ideas- was it gang activity? was it something related to the governor? was it something to do with the union? was it the guy that had threatened to kill me after he was deported following a traffic stop? was it an accident? was it intentional? what started the fire? how did all three NOT make it out? medical reports didn't match what people were saying. timelines didn't match up.

maybe they all did in the end. maybe there was a completely basic boring answer in a report no one bothered to tell me about. i'll never know.

and when you have a brain like mine, that's hard. it's been a lot of work to not become obsessed or turn into a gerard butler movie.

 

 

 

 

i had to come terms pretty quickly. i didn't have the time or energy to be curious or worry about getting a real answer. i had kids to raise. i had to make sure there were groceries and sports equipment and a "normal life" after a year long campaign of trauma.

it was a LOT dealing with so much death in such a short time. 

suddenly, here i am 10 years later. 

i think the biggest lesson i'm still learning is how to wrangle that worst case scenario mindset.

yes, the ability to create a all the different possibilities and options and choose your own adventure avenues is amazing.

but of all those scenarios and options and paths my mind has wandered down about my personal life, what's going to happen, all the time and energy i've spent worrying and letting anxiety wreak havoc in my mind, NONE. absolutely NONE of them have been true or real. i could have never thought up the path my life has taken in the last 10 years.

i've spent so many hours. SO MANY HOURS. so much energy. so much time worrying. playing the worst case scenario game. 

and i have had so many completely different absolute worst case scenarios happen anyway.

all the worrying and imagining did was take away the energy for when i actually needed it. i was so exhausted worrying about what was going to happen that when something DID happen i was already drained.

this year in particular i think has been a little bit of that for everyone. the news stories are so outrageous and world events are things writers all over are laughing because they know their script or plot with any one of these events would have been rejected as "unbelievable."

i didn't expect to be fired in the middle of a global pandemic for standing up for mental health care because 5+ months of self-isolation mixed with nationwide social unrest due to police brutality led to massive widespread brutality and the government is being dismantled right in front of us and there's not a damn thing any of us can do about it for MONTHS and we just have to...yeah...you get the point.

that is not even a possibility i could have dreamed up 6 months ago.

and yet, here i am, one week in to being unemployed.

i am terrified.

my brain has moments of not being my friend right now.

that worst case scenario lightening round is right there. i've spiraled a few times already.

it's a real quick trip some really, really dark places.

when you start wondering if it would really be so bad to hope maybe you're one of the bad/quick virus cases...it's time to take a moment and step back a little bit.

i'm learning to not listen to that option. that's all it is, one of the thousands of options.

and just as quickly as i can spiral in the positive direction, maybe i'll find a million dollars on the street tomorrow...

but that's wasted energy too.

i'm learning to just take a breath, and do what i can right now.

 

right now i can apply for jobs. right now i can follow up on financial aid paperwork. right now i can have a dance party in my livingroom. right now i can practice yoga and meditation and work on helping my brain be kinder and not do those exhaustive spirals in either direction.

 

i can channel that energy into writing. into creating, but i need to stop letting that energy run me down and dominate my thinking.

funny how it keeps coming back to writing. it always does. you'd think after 40 years on this earth i'd quit fighting the thing that has been a part of me since the beginning. 

BUT, my extremely slow learning curve aside, the point is that i am learning. i am recognizing behaviors that don't work for me anymore. i'm working on changing them.

it's hard. that anxiety spiral is right there. a six shooter on each hip of terrible things, locked, loaded, always ready to go. 

well, isn't that a particularly interesting analogy for someone who does not like guns, at all.

the thing that is the worst for me, my most dangerous behavior, i just compared to an object i strongly regard as dangerous and deadly.

i'm sure a shrink would have a field day with that.

i think it's time to retire from the worst case scenario game, at least personally.

how long have i been saying i'm tired y'all? 

maybe it's time to stop exhausting myself.

maybe it's time to just focus on today. today i can do what i need to do and that is enough.

spoiler alert: i'm an asshole

holy crap ya'll.

what is even going on in the world right now?

i found myself struggling to write again this week.

day late.

again.

but this time is different.

i have been avoiding writing this week, not just unable to figure something out.

noticing the difference is important for me.

avoidance means i'm starting to slip a little.

when things go to shit, when i *SHOULD* be writing the most is when i tend to stop writing. historians all over are recommending everyone keep a journal right now. yes, every day is history, but especially right now, EVERY. DAY. IS HISTORY. the more voices we have recording it, the more accurate of a story we can tell later one. all the perspectives and experiences for future us to learn from.

i know this.

i'm recognizing this and not allowing myself to fall back into old patterns.

so, yeah.

i've been avoiding writing.

which means all this EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE junk is getting to me more than i'm acknowledging.

and if you don't acknowledge it, you can't deal with it.

ugh.

it is such a pain in my ass recognizing bad habits and making myself change my behaviors.

THIS IS HARD.

here we go.

this virus shit is scary and confusing and boring. as. fuck.

i don't know you can be bored and actively terrified at the same time, but welcome to the next few months.

i think that's the thing i'm having the hardest time with. i can't imagine anything lasting 6 weeks. as fast as our new cycle turns lately it feels like in a few days they'll (i don't know who "they" is) suddenly be like OOPS. TYPO. OUR BAD. and everything will just go back to normal.

but i know that's not the case.

i have friends teaching abroad in china that have already been on lock down since the beginning of the year. i've watched them adapt and figure out grocery deliveries. and how to teach from home. and art projects. they've made it. they're reaching the end.

and i have friends in seattle that are already a week ahead of where spokane is. they've already been on lock down. they've figured out how to support restaurants and grocery shop and they got a head start on figuring out schools and online symphonies and co-op virtual education and they're all helping each other make sure all the kids are getting fed and everyone is ok.

and now it's here in spokane. i have friends in self quarantine after known exposure, to help reduce risk. and the city is starting to figure it out a little bit. and we have a mayor who was a journalist for her entire career. she is very good at press conferences and assuring the public and i, i hope, actual journalism and research and fact finding and accurate reporting. i want to believe her in a time when it's hard to believe in any politician. and at work we've shifted to almost, i think, 50% work from home. several of the local restaurants are figuring out how to shift their business model to stay open. some are closing for the interim (my whisky wednesday spot is one of the latter). local grocery stores are actually HIRING to keep up with demand which maybe means some displaced service industry workers can find almost the same schedule work, late night/early morning stocking and baking.

we'll get there. as a whole, i believe we'll get there.

and then there's me.

i'm still at the office for now.

nothing has changed at home. 

i'm a pretty low risk person so my anxiety has been manageable. i go to work and go home. i don't have anyone i spend a significant amount of time with that i'm worried about infecting. it's me and stella. i do my groceries by pick up orders, same for basic supplies from target. it will be sad to say good bye to whisky wendesday, but, i mean, the whole purpose of whisky wednesdays was to make me go out where the people are. and that's cancelled. so. even one less thing to stress about. can't make myself feel terrible for staying in, again, when we're literally ordered to stay in.

there's 1001 memes around the internet about how it's the introvert's time to shine.

no thanks. you can keep the spotlight and just leave me the fuck alone.

i have always STRUGGLED to understand people who can't sit still.

2 hour wait at the doctors office? meh. binge watching an entire season on netflix without moving (besides to shift positions)? typical. not leaving the house from friday evening til monday morning? do you know how hard i have to work to NOT do that? it takes me from friday night after work to convince myself to go out on sunday evening sometimes.

so really, nothing has changed for me.

i only buy basic supplies every few months anyway since it's only me. i buy 2 packs of things when i can because that's how it works when you're broke: buy it when you can (and the value packs are cheaper! thanks colgate!).

i bought groceries but i still hate to cook.

i think i'm having some sort of weird preemptive survivors guilt? which possibly means i just jinxed myself. congratulations to the beneficiaries of my will.

i feel guilty that i work for a great corporation, my health insurance has kicked in, we haven't been laid off, they're actively working with employees to make sure everyone has what they need during this. 

i feel guilty that i'm done being a mom. i don't have to worry about school being cancelled. i don't have to worry about a grocery bill tripling. i don't have to worry about another person if a quarantine does happen. it feels incredibly selfish and terrible to feel so relived.

i'm glad i got knocked up at 17. if i had waited and had kids NOW? omg. i know that's such an asshole thing to say when i know so many people that DO have kids right now. i am so so so sorry, but i am so glad it's not me. FUCK i'm an asshole.

but at the same time, i went through Y2K when my oldest son was a toddler. and 9/11 the next year. i went through all the viruses since 2003 with BOTH of them, and they were both sick- one respiratory and one without vaccines (after a reaction, he's caught up now). also, we went through literal death and fire.

i know what living through sheer terror as a parent is. i'm sorry you're all experiencing it now, but i am so relieved my turn at the post is over.

ya'll remember y2k? when the world was going to end? and banks were going to collapse? and the world as we knew it was going to grind to a screeching halt? and people were stockpiling water and supplies? and, i don't know, taking your baby's bottle liners and stuffing each liner with $100 bill, rolling it all back up, and tucking it away? and people were encouraging you to really consider murder suicide since you had a small child and you wouldn't want them to have to survive the end of times? maybe it was a little more traumatic since i worked at a power plant at the time. or maybe because i had a bat shit crazy evangelical mother.

who knows.

but i know i'm spending too much time on social media. i can feel my mental health starting to crack the more i read the headlines and the fighting and the blaming and the lying around and around in circles.

i wish there was a way to just ignore all the news, ALL OF IT until someone shoots off an all clear flare.

like italy can just all turn off the news until further notice and when things are all clear the Vatican will send out a puff out green smoke.

ya'll just stay home and wait for the signal.

(btw: has anyone checked on the vatican? that's the THE central gathering place of super old dudes.)

i grew up in a town where every day at noon the fire whistle would go off. the entire town could hear it.

let's go back to that.

but it still feels like i'm stuck in this cone of silence. like everything is happening around me and i'm just...here. it's incredibly surreal.

i'm going to bed tonight at a reasonable-ish time (face care is already done, as soon as i wrap this up i'm out like a light.)

i'll go to work tomorrow.

i'll come home from work tomorrow.

i'm hang out til bedtime.

i'll get up and go to work the next day...

and then it will be a weekend.

and then another week.

i'm bored.

while the world is ending around me.

fuck i'm an asshole.

when it's nice to be boring

i've been struggling with what to write this week...late to my own deadline.

sounds about right.

but i was struggling with what to write because there were no BIG MOMENTS. there was no massive break through, no life altering realizations, no major transformative moments.

and fuck if realizing that wasn't a relief.

whew.

it's been a FEW WEEKS for me ya'll. no child support! sliding down the kinsey scale! overcoming the massive fear of posting a video.

just...existing ya'll.

it's a weird feeling with everything going on right now.

am i inside the funnel? the cone of silence?

the world is a hot mess right now.

pandemics, politics, asteroid...

it's a lot.

but i feel like i'm just kickin back watching it all.

weird how i'll have a MASSIVE panic attack about my ability to retroactively pay daycare bills, but the pending end of the world is just like..meh.

not to be a total asshole, but things are really boring for me right now.

quarantine at home when you're not at work?

CHECK

excuse to openly wipe off your desk after gross people touch it?

CHECK.

politics?

i already voted. hit me up in november if we're all still around then. #bluenomatterwho

this week i just got to sit.

i meditated/did yoga under the full moon for about 4 hours last night BECAUSE I COULD. do you know how relaxing it is to just focus on gentle stretching and clearing your mind FOR FOUR HOURS?

do you know the last time i just took as long as i wanted to intentionally do nothing?

ok. so last weekend. shut up.

THIS WAS INTENTIONAL, NOT JUST LAZY.

self care ya'll. 

WHO CARES IF IT'S CHEESY AND CLICHE?

yeah everyone loves it, CAUSE IT'S AWESOME.

you bet your ass i have a NAMASTE pillow on my bed.

it's nice to not have anything specific to report. just kickin it. still broke as fuck. still listening to music and practicing multiple The Voice auditions FULL VOLUME. my poor neighbors.

i'm getting back into reading. i splurged last week with tax return money and bought three books:

Faking It by Lux Alptraum available: here

Never Have I Ever by Joshilyn Jackson available: here

sold on a monday by Kristina McMorris: GOODREADS

still also reading

The Italian Wife by Kate Furnival available: here

The Greatest Love Story Ever Told by Megan Mullally and Nick Offerman: GOODREADS

but yeah.

it was a boring as fuck week.

i take another, please.

well that bit me in the ass

i kinda cheated on writing last week.

i posted a small little post in the middle of the afternoon on a thursday and only found out before starting this post that the html was completely messed up so it was not readable.

so i met my goal of one post a week...but did i really?



truth time:

i know just enough about social media to know how to fly a little below the radar. i've been on twitter long enough to know when no one is reading. i know just enough to know how to hide posts in feeds or make things less visible.

i may or may not intentionally bury posts at times when they feel particularly vulnerable.

sometimes when you shout into the great void you hope for an echo.

sometimes you just want to shout.

that post was one i wanted to hide.

but what's the point of writing and trying to be honest if you're still trying to hide?

that post covered how i'm bisexual: tl/dr women are amazing.

since then, i've been struggling with coming to terms with the shift in perspective which has really surprised me.

and i've struggled with wanting to talk about it more, but i don't want to be the lulu lemon lesbian.

LOOK AT THIS AMAZING NEW THING I FOUND!! NO, NO, JUST TRY IT ONCE, YOU'LL NEVER GO BACK. YOU'LL LOVE IT. YOU WON'T UNDERSTAND HOW YOU EVER GOT ALONG WITHOUT IT!!

JOIN TODAY AND GET A CUSTOM HYDROFLASK AND A SEPHORA COUPON.

i didn't want to annoy or over saturate or turn into this overzealous proselytizing cliche.

but the thing is, cliches are cliches for a reason.

and, i mean, IT'S A BIG FUCKING DEAL. i feel like so many things make so much more sense. i feel like i've finally figured out why things have just NEVER worked for so many years, no matter what i tried. all the brick walls and dead ends.

after 40 years of existing i feel like i'm finally figuring myself out.

THAT'S A HUGE DEAL YA'LL. i want to talk about it.

after 20+ years of struggling with dating. trying to find a partner. getting so frustrated and hurt and defeated. giving up how many times because i just couldn't find what i was looking for. not even close.

WELL DUH YOU DUMB ASS. you were looking the wrong direction the whole time.

and, to be fair,

i didn't even have half of it figured out for a LONG time.

then after i figured out half of it, i still hid for so many years. i like guys. always have, always will. there were even some guys i REALLY REALLY liked. and some were great experiences. but it was never RIGHT. none of them ever worked out more than a few weeks. none of them ever...well. it just didn't work.

but sticking closet to the straight side was MUCH easier than figuring out that other half.

i keep saying half because i've joked for years about being a 50/50 split bi. equal opportunity.

that's how it looks in my head. and i feel like maybe that stems from the conversation/questions you hear about bi-sexuals about if they're REALLY bi when they're in whatever form of a partnership. like there's this constant pressure to prove that you REALLY ARE BOTH ALL THE TIME. it's part of bi-erasure. if you date a man, women were just an experimental phase. if you date a woman, previous relationships with men were just a stopover on the way to gaytown.

and i really let this get in my head and fuck it up for a few days.

it was like finding a stronger preference in myself for women made me want to just dig my claws into I STILL LIKE MEN.

but...

A) i know better.

how many times have i said sexuality is a fluid thing? an ever moving target? a sliding scale?

i was always reassuring friends without listening to myself.

huh. funny how thoughts just come out sometimes.

without listening to myself.

and the focus of this year is to LISTEN.

and now that i'm listening to myself...

funny how that works isn't it?

but also,

B) WHO THE FUCK CARES?

so what if it does turn out the first 40 years of my life were just a layover?

sometimes it takes 40 years of wandering around, maybe a talking burning bush* to get some clarity and get you where you need to be.

*LISTEN. i'm not saying moses was stoned as fuck when that "burning bush" talked to him...i'm just saying afghani kush is some good shit. (ps: a drunk history of moses exists and it's amazing)


but again, WHO CARES?

and this is where it gets mushy.

i am finally, for the first time, at the point in my life where i can say this:

all the people that matter most to me, ALL of them.

it doesn't matter to them.

they truly accept me for who i am.

i have built a circle. i have found my people. i have surrounded myself with GOOD people. i have made my life, my home, my job, good. SAFE.

i have made a space for myself to BE myself.

which, by logic, means now i have to go DO that.

shit.

one piece at a time

last night i was working through a few things and had a BIG realization. you know that feeling when a core piece of you just BOOM. locks into place? just *KA CHUNK* feeling and you finally, finally know for sure. without a doubt, the answer to a question you didn’t know you asked.

well, i did ask.

 i know i very specifically asked. i've got to own it.

i asked a the universe a question and got an answer.

in the last week i’ve gone from “am i gay enough” to have a long term relationship with a woman? to reaffirming not only YES, i am, but then being hit by realizing:

OH. yeah. duh. my life partner(s) will be a woman. got it.

*KA CHUNK*

so what does that mean to me?

why did that take so long to figure out?

here's where the words come in.

it’s time for me to find some new words.

bisexual is a weird word when you think about who you are as an entire person. it reduces the whole experience to sex. and it’s a very “straight” word or at least always has been to me.

because i didn’t realize liking men AND women was even a thing for so long, all my default programming is heterosexual. all of it. being bi-sexual meant an assumption that my MAIN relationship would be a man. of course. but the SEX part could be with either. because it’s bi-SEXUAL, not bi-relationshipual. bi-partnershipual?

but the more i’m learning about myself, i’m realizing that is NOT my actual programming. turns out my REAL default setting is a main relationship with a woman and the sex part could be with either.

what’s the word for that? oh, it’s still bisexual? cool. glad we cleared that up.

but my life partner (s?) will be a woman. i know this now. that has become CRYSTAL CLEAR in the last week. so many things make so much more sense now.

so then i decided to try to list all the amazing attributes of all the women i admire, the things i would like to set as intentions for my life partner. the list kept growing and growing and growing and i suddenly realized that i am SURROUNDED by amazing women with innumerable amazing qualities. and that’s, just...wow.

WOMEN ARE AMAZING.

that is all.

let's talk about sex

ya'll ready for a great big secret?

i have sex.

WHAT??

i know.

double down:

sometimes that sex is with boys.

sometimes that sex is with girls.

MOST of that sex is single player mode.

thank heavens for rechargable batteries.

now that ya'll are shooketh to your very core, time to hit the rewind.

i grew up in an incredibly conservative evangelical house. INCREDIBLY conservative.

i was at church every sunday morning, sunday night, wednesday night. my whole life was about pleasing jesus, being a good girl, staying out of trouble, doing what i was *supposed* to do. when i got in trouble about friends (or lack thereof) my mom's solution was to write out all the bible verses about friendship. when i was in regular trouble it was about disappointing jesus. all the books i read were christian books- i devoured the entire Mandy series impatiently waiting for every new book. i read all the jeanette oak books over and over and over again. want to know where some of my most twisted relationship expectations come from? read through a few of the "when calls the heart" series. 

some of my FAVORITE, ALL TIME FAVORITE books to this day are written by francine rivers. i've learned to skip some of the heavier christian parts but there's this incredible three part series about a germanic man being forced to fight for his life in the arena and how be becomes friends with a household servant that survived being thrown to the lions for being a christian. the writing is amazing. the story is amazing. but holy heavens (pun intended) the entire series is written solely around being a christian saves your life.

this is all a long way to say i was a "good girl" growing up. i took the purity pledge. i was all aboard the no sex til marriage train.

i didn't particularly date in high school. there were a few actual dates and very few actual boyfriends. mostly i was known as a frigid bitch and there was an ongoing bet around the school of who would be able to shag me first (the guys weren't shy about letting me know this).

there was one guy i had a MASSIVE crush on- he was my first kiss, my first french kiss, and the guy i snuck into the light/sound booth in the theater more than a few times with for massive make out sessions. but i would have never been allowed to date him. he was raised by a single mom, they lived on the "other side of town," and most importantly, he didn't go to church. yes. these are things that were real issues to my mom. he passed away a few years after high school and it broke my heart. he was unfailingly kind, even when he wasn't. he was the one that let me know about the running bet. he was one of the ONLY ones that still talked to me after i got pregnant. he even made me laugh a few times asking if we could have sex while i was pregnant since the damage was already done. he was the only one to ever tell me i was beautiful while i was pregnant.

side note: i heard the way my mama, a proper christian lady, talked about his mama, a single mom of two boys who *gasp* dated.

more than few of my mothers nasty judgements of his mom stuck with me over the years. i was a single mama of two boys who *gasp* dated.

to this day i am still heartbroken for that gal and they way too many stuck up assholes in that town treated her. she lost both of her boys just a few years out of high school. all those years of working so hard to raise them, putting up with the shitty people in our small town just to lose them both. wherever she is i hope with every fiber of my being the universe has been kind to her the last 18 years.

ANYWAY.

i lost my virginity my sophomore year of high school. there was a guy i had a crush on and i found out he was moving away. i offered to have sex with him before he moved, he said ok, lay down. i did, he stuck it in, i said "ow, that hurts," he got up and walked away and i never saw him again. just enough to leave a stain on the floor of the electronics classroom. good times.

the first time i had sex my senior year i got pregnant. good times.

i had a few partners in college and then had my first orgasm with my second sons father. yes, that's right, my first orgasm happened with my 10th partner when i already had a 5 year old child. now you know 50% of the reason i got married. the other 50% was that 9/11 had just happened, the world was ending, and this guy didn't care that i already had a kid. spoiler alert: one orgasm and a world war is NOT a good reason to get married.

when i was married he used to shame me non-stop about sex. that i masturbated. that i had been with other partners. it went on and on. if i was "good" at something it was a reason for suspicion. if i was "bad" at something it was, to him, a validation for having 2 mistresses.

after my divorce, around the age of 24 i bought my first vibrator.

shortly thereafter i started watching porn and figuring out my sexuality.

yes, after 2 kids, a marriage and a divorce, THEN i started figuring out my sexuality.

i honestly didn't know there was anything TO figure out.

of course i wasn't gay.

gay was only for boys and if you were gay you got AIDS and died. the 80's and 90's were rife with AIDS misinformation and fear. toilet seats! sneezes! Ryan White! 

there was one lesbian in town growing up. she was the volleyball coach at the high school. i had no idea what being a lesbian meant unless it was raising huskies, coaching volleyball, and having to keep paper over the windows in her office AND keep the blinds closed, AT ALL TIMES.

i had never heard the word "bisexual."

i knew that i liked boys. it's one or the other, right? that bisexual thing is just a stop over on your way to gay, and as already covered, i of course couldn't be gay.

sometime around 27 i started to notice that i really, really do not like straight porn. it's the same three things: a LOT of oral sex for the guy, a TINY bit of oral sex for the girl, penis in vagina sex for three of 4 different positions, and scene.

it's boring. it's not pleasant to watch.

but then there was girl on girl porn...

HEY NOW.

well then. this is something different.

and then it slowly dawned on me...you know, you REALLY like girl on girl porn...what if it's because...you like girls?

BUT I LIKE GUYS!

sure...but what if you ALSO like girls?

back then, 2007ish, there weren't a lot of dating options besides match.com and there were FOR SURE no dating options if you wanted to date a lady.

so i turned to the only other place: craigslist.

yuuuuuuup.

i arranged my first lady date on craigslist.

we met for dinner at chilis, went to a bar for drinks and somehow ended up in a threesome with one of my coworkers. the next day she said "well, that was an experience," and we never went out again. she realized she was completely and fully straight, i realized i was completely and fully bi.

i never had a big coming out to my family or friends. there was no magical TADA moment or big crying tearful confession over a holiday dinner.

in retrospect i may have slightly been a MASSIVE asshole about how i let my family know.

with my mom it was a particularly painful moment in her therapy session when i asked her: sure, you SAY you love and support me, but how many bi-sexual, tattooed, single moms do you associate with outside being FORCED to with your own daughter?

oof.

with my brother, he called one year while i was working at a booth at pride.

bro: don't you have to be one of "those letters" to go to pride?

me: well, you know there's such a thing as ALLIES, but yes, i am one of those letters. B is one of those letters. always has been.

bro: what?

me: what?

bro: like...

me: oh, did you not know i'm bi? hey, by the bye, i'm bi.

so. you know. maybe fair enough that he still refers to me as "one of those letters."

i didn't go out with another woman for YEARS after that. i had a few partners, had one gal i was really into but it was a complicated situation. but mostly i just...well..didn't.

i was never quiet about it with my kids. the topic came up several times. i have friends all across the rainbow family. my boys both at different times questioned their own sexuality and we worked through it together. my oldest took a boy to a school dance and kissed him and realized he is fully, fully straight. my youngest was picked on for wearing bow ties to school for almost a fully year and tearfully questioned if he was gay because everyone kept telling him he was.

now they're both openly, vocally, painfully completely homophobic. 

i saw this developing in them. i heard the jokes, the slurs, the insults. i knew they were hearing things at youth group. my youngest came home one day and told me his youth pastor told him he was being raised in a dangerous, abusive household because i have tattoos and i'm bisexual.

so i just shut that side down for a long time.

i liked guys. so, you know, i would just...avoid all the rest.

i didn't want to expose anyone else to my kids. i didn't want anyone else to have to hear the horrible jokes and terrible accusations and painful insults.

i raised my kids in an open, loving, non-judgmental household. they still chose hate.

here's a spoiler alert for anyone wondering: avoiding a part of yourself doesn't make it go away.

i struggled with it over the years. it made me so angry at times that i had to hide. from my own kids.

but i did. i thought it was best for them. i thought it was safer for me.

but now that's all changed.

several things have changed: first, i'm done answering to other people. if you don't like my sexuality? DON'T HAVE SEX WITH ME.

easy enough.

not sure how who i'm attracted to has any bearing on anyone else besides the person i might be attracted to.

and if they don't like my sexuality, well, i'll say it again: DON'T HAVE SEX WITH ME.

so. NOW we're getting to the point.

that's right suckers. i'm *JUST NOW* getting to the point of this week.

this week...this week.

THIS. WEEK. Y'ALL.

you think i'd be used to getting my psychological ass handed to me by now. all the work and therapy and whatnot i've been doing.

but here we are.

this week i had a lady date.

we met for pizza. we talked. it was a good time.

i did my usual first date panic, talked WAY too much.

i didn't put too much stock in it. how many first dates have i been on after all?

besides...she lives in another town, my car is for sale...just...it was just another first date.

but then the week took a turn. because of course it did.

talk about burying the lede...i don't have to sell my car right now.

i found out friday afternoon that the child support order is *only* for back support that happened while the order was going through the hearing process. that's it. because my son moved out of state and doesn't live with the grandparents now, the support order for them isn't valid. i'm sure there will be another one coming soon, but, for now, i have a small stay of execution. i have a few more months to figure things out and get things sorted financially.

i get to keep my car (for now).

and...if i get to keep my car for now...that means the possibility of dating someone in another town IS a possibility.

and holy shit.

commence full on panic.

what if i'm not bi enough to BE BI.

what if i'm not gay enough to date a lady full time? 

WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?

like, 3 weeks in i'll change my mind and be like, NOPE. NEVER MIND.

girl, YOU LIKE GIRLS. you know this.

funny thing, i've never worried about not being straight enough to date a fella.

and, let's be real, this is ME. not like i'm exactly aces at dating ANYONE.

BUT. the point. i swear i'm getting to the point.

the point is it's a possibility.

it's a real chance for me to BE ME. i've hidden all these years because it was the easier choice. 

now i get the chance to just...LIVE.

and it feels like this week shifted everything.

i've struggled with this project so far. i've struggled with how sad it felt. how much of a STRUGGLE it felt. like it was just rehashing terrible things and sad experiences. and i kept trying to change the focus. i kept trying to frame it as an opportunity. i kept trying to frame it as an adventure. i wanted to post the positive opportunities. i wanted to find the silver lining to what was feeling like a year of trying to just survive.

and this week it shifted to #thrive.

i don't have to sell my car. i have a little breathing room. i have a focus. i have a path. i have a plan.

i can work on BECOMING myself.

i was geared up and ready for battle. i was ready to SURVIVE. i was on the island. i had an ice skate ready for any medical emergencies and a volleyball to keep me company. I WAS GOING TO GRIND IT OUT.

and i feel like...i'm a firm believer that if you shut up and listen you can hear the universe talking to you.

in my case it spent this weekend SCREAMING at me.

i select a random playlist and it's one song after another just hammering the point home.

i go out and meet new people and the conversation ends up smacking me upside the head.

i stay home and do my chores and meditate and do my writing and and all the little pieces of my apartment that i've selected and picked and carefully arranged, they take a moment to stand out and remind me of why i picked them and brought them home.

i'm a little slow that way sometimes. i do things because they're important to me. i get specific tattoos. i buy specific books. i make a specific letterboard. and then they just become a part of things. and sometimes you forget they're even there. and then, when you need them, they talk to you. they gently remind you of things you already know.

i made a sign a year ago when i moved in. i haven't changed it. it's been there. i look at it, but i haven't LOOKED at it in a while:

i didn't say survive.


i said THRIVE.

and i feel that now.

i'm not in survival mode. this project has shifted things. life has shifted things. i'm still doing what i need to do. this isn't a get out of jail free moment. this is a stay of execution while the judge reviews the case.

i'm still writing. i'm still focusing on my budget. i'm still focusing on walking to work. i'm still focusing on making healthy life choices. doing the things i need to do for my mental health. i'm still focused on appreciating each week and each moment this year.

even if they decide to blindside me and flip the script out of no where.

i'm not just going to survive this year. i'm going to THRIVE. i'm going to become ME. i'm going to start doing the things that scare me. i'm going to start TRYING. there's no reason to hide anymore. there's no reason to let other people dictate who i am. there's no reason to let fear of how one person might respond keep me from trying something new.

i'm not just going to survive this year.

I'M GOING TO THRIVE.