work from home: week 1

well.

i promised myself when i started this project i would write about it all.

the good, the bad, the ugly.

this was a bad week.

this was a period hormones, world pandemic, social distancing, work from home notice, struggling to find a reason to stay alive week.

we'll start easy.

last week people started shifting to working from home. the first wave was 25% on friday the 13th. by tuesday it was up to 90%. there were a few of us hold outs at the office.

i prefer to work from an office. i NEED human contact. even if it's just the people walking by on the way to get coffee, IT'S PEOPLE.

i'm not a social person. this is not shocking news.

work is 87.2% of ALL my social interactions.

friday they gave us the official boot and i packed up all my shit and set up my tiny little desk to be my new office.

the work part doesn't bother me. all i need is my computer and a phone.  working from home will be nice in a LOT of ways. no warm toilet seats in the bathroom. no annoying coworker leaving passive aggressive notes on an EMPTY desk claiming it in the middle of everyone being sent home. no assholes leaving both coffee pots in the kitchen empty.

i'll have art to look at all day. plenty of light and windows to see outside. proper meals whenever i'm hungry.

i'll miss the cafe. the baristas were so incredibly nice.

i'll miss seeing my cube-neighbor every morning.

i'll miss the people whose names i don't know but i talked to in the kitchen every morning.

i'm so, so, so immensely grateful to have the opportunity to work from home.

i'm just really struggling with the corporate overlords hyper focus on numbers and productivity and not leaving ANY room for work flow shift as we all adjust to this new normal. i'm struggling giving even the tiniest rats ass about an auto dealership in texas getting fiber internet installed right now. which is...what i do. so.  you know. gotta figure that part out.

i'm nervous about 2x daily group team chats. my new "office" is in my bedroom. because...studio apartment. the potential awkward is off the charts.

i'm nervous about disconnecting at the end of the day. about remember what day it is. i'm already struggling wanting to spend "just a little bit of extra off the clock time" going through file names and cleaning up how things are saved in files i know other people access. now that we're all working from home i have this (virgo) need to organize everything since people won't be able to pop by my cubicle real quick to ask a question.

i worry that i'll be the weak link that will make everyone else not be able to get things done remotely.

i worry that i've only been at this job 4 1/2 months and still barely know my ass from my elbow.

i'm pretty mad at myself right now for never figuring out how to be a stay at home mom or a stay at home partner.

i would give anything right now for my biggest problem to be worrying about how to get acrylic nails off at home since salons are closed and it would be mortifying for anyone to see my nails grown out (real post from a fb group).

OH THE HORROR.

but, alas, i am not a stay at home wife or partner.


i'm still the same, single, social pariah i was last week.

which leads into some of the really bad stuff in my head this week.

my oldest son had to be on a nebulizer for years.  twice a day breathing treatments. we'd put the little drops in the machine and he would wear the darth vader mask while watching a veggie tales video.

the doctors were never able to tell us WHY we had to do that. he didn't have allergies. he didn't have asthma. we found out later, during a growth spurt, that he has sunken chest syndrome where the cartilage on his ribs on one side curves IN instead of OUT. did that cause it? there's one corrective treatment for it...they basically cut you in half and strap a metal rib cage to the cartilage and hope it corrects itself. that's it. we chose not to do that treatment.

does it still affect his breathing? does it make him more at risk for things like corona? i don't know.

last i knew he was living in the bellingham area.

ground zero for the united states.

would anyone even tell me if he got sick?

i doubt it.

my youngest son had early onset puberty at 6 months old. we started seeing pediatric endocrinologists. a few years later he had a reaction to an MMR shot and i discontinued immunizations for years because of how it affected him. this is why i keep my mouth shut about anti-vaxxer stuff. i don't know about for EVERYONE, but i watched it directly and extremely markedly affect my son.

we had *just* moved out of a domestic violence situation. he had JUST started interacting with people. talking. walking. engaging. social. happy. bubbly. got his mmr shot and that all went away.

so we stopped vaccines. instead we did speech therapy, reading therapy, behavior therapy. mentors and tutors and intervention programs at school. we started them again when he was 13 and the local school district stopped allowing medical exemptions for school records.

as he was 13 and in charge of all his medical decisions, i explained why i had stopped the shots, explained what i saw were the risks and the benefits and he made the decision to get caught up on his shots.

within a few months his behaviors had completely changed. his attitude was different. his reasoning, his discussions, his interactions. his behaviors at school started to fall apart. he started running away, getting into drugs, getting into fights, arguing with police officers.

regular teenage hormones + high school + friend influence? or some form of an allergic reaction that altered him again, the same way it did when he was a baby?

I DON'T KNOW.

does it affect his health now? does his pattern of high risk behavior put him more at risk for contracting/spreading this virus?

again, would anyone tell me if he got sick?

my mother is somewhere in alabama. she'll be 65 this year. she has ankylosing spondylitis in conjunction with iritis. the lifetime of medications from controlling those started causing pancreas issues years ago.

if she got sick would anyone tell me?

i have a brother who is a king county deputy.

a cop. in the middle of a pandemic. that started in his county.

and he goes to work every day. then goes home to his wife and 2 kids.

king county sent out a work-from-home notice a while ago. strangely enough his boss didn't agree to allow him to catch bad guys from his recliner. so it's a daily hi-ho and off to work for him.

luckily everyone else is dead.

grandparents all kicked off a long time ago.

i don't have to worry about my dad (also a cop) out in this.

i don't have to worry about my little brother living in seattle without insurance during this.


it's a weird feeling when you're glad people are dead.

and then there's me.

i'm the fucking worthless lump of nothing sitting in my apartment, 99% unaffected by any of what's happening and 100% unable to help with any of it.


i'm still fucking broke.

as much as i want to, i have zero ability to support local businesses trying to get through this.

I WISH i could order food from local restaurants. i fucking LOATHE cooking, even in the best of times.

I WISH i could sign up for online yoga and zumba and work out classes. even if i could afford it, i live on the third floor and we're ALL stuck at home and i really don't think my neighbors want to listen to elephant on parade every day.

i don't know how to sew OR own a sewing machine. even if i did, you really, REALLY wouldn't want a mask made by me.

i could run errands for neighbors but that would include A) talking to my neighbors (the meth heads can fend for themselves), B) going out where all the fucking assholes that AREN'T taking precautions are, and C) doing shopping. something i can barely force myself to do, for myself, unless i am completely out of everything.

i'm not a musician. i'm not an artist. i'm not a comedienne. i don't have anything in particular to contribute to the online community.

my skill set is this:
-sitting completely still reading (the same books over and over) for hours on end.

-professional level social distancing. i've been getting stood up by dates for 21 years. i was social distancing before it was even a thing.

- subsiding on a diet of trash panda food

-hiding my emotions and feelings behind carefully crafted jokes and half stories.



so. yeah. i'm struggling right now.

there's nothing like a global pandemic to show you how completely useless you are.

so.

yeah. 

i'm struggling.

i don't have a particularly positive note to end this on.

and that annoys me.

complain as much as you want AS LONG AS YOU PROVIDE A SOLUTION.

fuck.

ok.

well. i'm still hunting for silver linings.

i'm still trying.

I'M WRITING EVEN WHEN IT'S BAD.

that's something.

i'm being honest.

i'm still putting this out there even though there's a REALLY, REALLY, REALLY loud voice in my head screaming with all it's might FUCK OFF YOU TWAT. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE IT REALLY BAD RIGHT NOW? cry a little more you pathetic useless piece of shit from your comfy, colorful, safe apartment. you still have a job. you have plenty of food. you have puppy snuggles. suck it up buttercup.

but i've listened to that voice for years.

i've done the suck it up buttercup thing.

i've spent way too long keeping silent just because someone else has it worse.

there will ALWAYS be someone who has it worse.

growing up in the 80's taught me that.

DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY STARVING CHILDREN THERE ARE IN AFRICA?

so.

things are bad.

but i'm still here.

i made myself write this.

that's a start.

i knew starting this project there would be a LOT of changes. i knew anything could happen in a years time.

i did NOT expect this.

but.

i mean.

i'll get through it.

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.

welcome to my home

in the first post for this project i mentioned maybe doing a video.

i've explained a few times before, so bear with me if this repetitious.

when i write it's like i'm having a conversation with someone sitting across from me. maybe when people read, it's the same thing.

i hope it is.

so, i wanted to show ya'll my home, where i'm doing the writing, where these "conversations" are happening.

i want anyone reading to feel like they're sitting in my living room with me having these discussions.

my adorable, weird, colorful, living room. 

i reached out to a friend who has an outstanding career in film including television, movies, web shorts, music videos, hair cut videos...you name it. he is outstandingly skilled, incredibly talented, and unfailingly kind. years ago after having my gallbladder removed he stopped by to bring me chocolate cake and check in on me. just because. he's that kind of person. the guy that volunteers to make a Make-A-Wish video. 

and he so so so graciously accepted my request for help with this video. 


and now, with much trepidation and immense nerves, i present:
The Project: The Goal

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.