finding it

this month has been a challenge. it's taken me a while to figure out why.

i thought i had this whole empty nester thing down.

i mean, what is there to figure out?

it's literally *just* me, alone in my apartment.

really, what is there to figure out?

turns out, more than you think. and i think a LOT.

there's a few things that all form a perfect storm: stress, depression, LOTS of quiet time, personality type, financial status, and biggest road block, my own brain.

i talk to myself constantly, not out loud, but my brain always has a dialogue running. ALWAYS. i talk over things a thousand times in my head, to the point, where _I'M_ exhausted of hearing myself talk about them. and then i think: WRITE IT DOWN. GET IT OUT.

but i've heard it SO MUCH in my head i think, i must have already annoyed the crap out of everyone else from making them hear about this too! when in reality it's never been anywhere but my head.

i have a very small group of people i text message or snap chat about things, and that by no means is EVERYONE. and i fully acknowledge that none of my people have ever said: YOU ALREADY SAID THAT. i think because most of them understand: if i have to say it again, there's something that still not worked out yet.

this is all a really long way to say i'm still really struggling.

i thought moving would be easy. i'd get all settled in, start a new routine, things would just take off and it would be great.


then one night i realized it took me almost 30 minutes to convince myself that yes, stella really did need to go out one more time before bed. she's a puppy. she can't just get up in the middle of the night and go potty.

well...she CAN...but do i want to wake up to a puddle in the middle of one of my carpets?

when you're annoyed that your BULLDOG has more energy than you? when you have to talk yourself up to taking her out to potty? maybe it's time to really, really evaluate what's going on.

here's the evaluation:

my maslow's heriarchy is truly fucked up.

in the last 6 months my whole pyramid has crumbled or shifted or both.

i mention maslow all the time, but if you're not familiar with the pyramid, here it is

when you look at that chart, EVERY. SINGLE. SLICE. of that pyramid is a work-in-progress right now for me. bottom to the top, ESPECIALLY the top.

that's a lot to deal with.one or two is considered a big change in life. ALL THE PIECES? i don't even know. it's a fucking shit show.

physiological needs: moving was expensive. double rent for a few months, old electric bills AND new electric bills, annoying little costs at the new place- the little costs that sneak up on you. "oh, it's only $40 for a wall mount for the tv" and "oh, it's just a few dollars at home depot for command hooks" and "i'll just pop over to the general store real quick to pick up a an outlet adapter. and an extension cord. and a wall hook for the bathroom..." and "oooo, that's really cute, i can get a FEW new things to decorate my living room..."

this all trickles downstream to my regular bills- and then things get tight all over because i wasn't paying attention, which is 100% my own fault. then it's the fun game of $5 til payday and "how many ways can i make rice (if i don't burn it, yes, that's an issue i have.)" and with food insecurity comes break down in body and health and mental clarity.

which leads to the second slice- work is...challenging right now. i'm struggling with ethics and how much to let personal beliefs affect work at my morning job. my afternoon has been dropping hours left and right- take, for example the recent 3 day weekend: everyone is getting an early start on the 3-day weekend, not unheard of. i left early on the thursday before because i was out of things to do, and monday was a non-paid holiday (part time worker). that works out to my paycheck missing three days. when money is already tight? fuuuuuck.

when you wake up every morning already dreading the day it makes for a really long fucking day.

but why stop there? shall we keep climbing the ladder? let's wade deeper into the shit swamp shall we?

love and belonging? esteem? self actualization? lord love a duck. that's been the majority of my life trying to get those pieces sorted and stabilized.

i have been spending so much energy and time processing trauma, history, life experiences, decisions, future plans. i have spent nights YELLING at the universe in frustration. plenty of tears. a few sarcastic laughs in there.

i'm trying so hard to let go of old things to make room for new things. it's fucking hard. some of those old thoughts have been in my head for what feels like forever.

when's the first time you remember hating yourself?

i remember getting the "most improved" award for swim team when i was...maybe 11? was i excited that i won? nope. i was embarrassed. i knew in my heart they only gave it to the new kid on the team. sure i'm "most improved" when i didn't have a time at the beginning of the season, any finishing time is an improvement. that's really what i thought. hell. that's what i still think. sure, i loved swimming. i have my first water certification for swimming from when i was 2 somewhere in a box in my house. i was swimming before i could walk. i LOVE the water. always have. but was i "most improved" swimmer? no. of course not.

I WAS ELEVEN. if that. that's how far back it goes.

when you've been hearing the voice of hate longer than you haven't? when you remember hearing it before anything else? that's a freight train that's really hard to stop and turn around.

but fuck if i'm not working on it.

i know my pyramid is all fucked up. i'm working so hard on it.

i've been going on job interviews to try to find a better/healthier place to work. it's exhausting going on interview after interview and not getting ANY call backs, even to tell me FUCK NO WE DON'T WANT YOU. the closest i've had to an official notification/rejection is "if we haven't called you by 5 on friday we picked someone else." BEFORE I EVEN LEFT THE INTERVIEW. 

but it's hard. i have bills to pay. i have mostly stable income now, i can't just jump without something else to land on. i need to survive. but fuck do i need a change. it's really hard going to work every day for someone that would exterminate you given the opportunity. that really fucks with your head.

but i'm not giving up.

and i'm working so hard on self confidence and self love. maybe a little too much. the other night i went out for whisky wednesday, as per usual. there's another gal there that's a regular. way more of a regular than me. she knows everyone, she's one of THE people there. and she's never particularly cared for me. i've tried to have little conversations with her here and there to no avail.

this week i noticed she was having a really rough night. i leaned over across the empty stool between us and asked if she was ok. I KNOW. good damn do I KNOW. I KNOW, I KNOW the look on her face when i asked. it was the OF COURSE I'M NOT OK BUT DON'T BE NICE TO ME I'LL CRY look. oh how familiar i am with that look. and i know the LAST thing you want is some stranger poking in your business when that happens. so i just said, "GIRL, i see you." that's it. just letting her know someone noticed. someone cares. someone knows you exist.

a while later i could feel her energy shift a little and she started talking to me a bit here and there. turns out she hates me. well, like, girl hates me. i mentioned something about my little cooper and she was like OF COURSE that's your car. just when i thought i couldn't be any more jealous of you, i realized that was YOUR car.

HOLD.

UP.

wait. what? girl, you're jealous of ME?????

oh honey.

i mean THANK YOU. but no. but what? but no. oh honey no.

and she was like, OF COURSE i'm jealous of you. you always show up here looking all glam and together and then OF COURSE that's your car.

and OH MY GOD. it's working. people think i have my shit together. jfc the fake it part really does work.

all the hard work. it's paying off. i work SO HARD to look put together all the time. i'm so careful about my skin and my hair and my make up and my clothes. i work SO. HARD. to look like a real grown up adult. SO HARD. and i have to MAKE MYSELF go out for whisky wednesdays. i start talking myself into in on sundays. yeah. sunday.

i spend half my week talking myself into going out then the other half of my week trying to convince myself i wasn't awkward when i DID go out. it's super fun being in my head.

but maybe it's finally working?

but good heavens and shit on a shingle, don't be jealous of me girl.

and so we started talking. for a brief second it was almost a contest of who's shit pile is bigger but i just kept saying SEE GIRL. we all have our shit. and she was like no, you don't understand. THIS HORRIBLE THING. and i would answer with my own HORRIBLE THING. and then she would say but no, THIS HORRIBLE THING. yeah girl. i have a catalog of those too. BUT WAIT! oh, yeah, honey, i got the sham-wow shit deal too. call now and we'll throw in double the bullshit and emotional baggage!

GIRL. I GOT YOU. i get it. oh lord do i get it. and slowly we just started to talk.

and maybe i am figuring it out. maybe i am starting to be the person i'm working so hard to be.

i've been doing fairly well the last few weeks. when i went to refill my vitamins there was only one day left in the container. i've been doing food prep and actually taking the meals i make. i've been sleeping better and making healthier life choices.

i'm leaning in to all the "weird" parts of me that i've always know were there but didn't know what to do with (my first tarot card deck is on it's way!). i've always been painfully honest with people, but now i'm not hiding the parts i'm uncomfortable being honest about. because is it really honesty when it's just carefully curated and selected pieces? i'm BEING ME. i'm still finding out what that really is, but i'm working on it.

all the clothes in my closet? I'M WEARING THEM. this week alone i cut the tags off 5 things that have been hiding on hangers for YEARS that i was too scared to wear. and guess what: I LOVE THEM. there's a reason i bought them. GIRL. PUT THE DAMN CLOTHES ON YOUR BODY. that's been my mantra this week. JUST PUT THE DAMN CLOTHES ON YOUR BODY. 

i'm rebuilding my damn pyramid and you bet your ass this time around it is going to be a brick. house.

i'm working on it. i'm finding it.

but dear lord don't be jealous of me.

scratch the surface

i've been doing a LOT of processing and working through things lately.

i've been digging deep into my past, why things are the way they are, why i am the way i am. i'm finally resolving (or working on) trauma and weird shit from the last 37 (fuck, almost 38) years on this planet.

i've delved really fucking deep into recurring nightmares, grief, choices, all the different paths life has taken.

i've gone DEEP y'all.

and it's been (mostly) good and healing. 

but, oddly, it's the super shallow stuff that's made a really big difference for me.

because people are shallow y'all.

and i mean this in the best way possible.

see, i've been single for basically my entire life. i've dated here and there. i was married for a whopping 23 months. most "relationships" don't make it past the 2 month mark. i've been on countless horrible first dates. i've been on plenty "meh" first dates. i've been stood up for an embarrassing number of never-happened dates.

and i took it all so, incredibly, painfully personal.

every rejection, every ghost, every failed attempt it was because of ME. like, ME. the deep me.

i don't have success dating because I'M A TERRIBLE PERSON. my very core self if like if every serial killer and political dictator and perpetrator of ethnic cleansing and generally horrible person on earth merged into one horrible, disgusting, repulsive, intolerable sample of humanity packaged into a chubby brunette body.

imagine packing this image of yourself around year after year.

except...

maybe not?

because here's the thing. most of those people never even got to know me beyond a few text messages and phone calls.

hell, most of them didn't even bother to show up to try to get to know me.

so...maybe people are just shallow.

ya think?

maybe people didn't like me because i'm brunette instead of blonde. cool. i have been blonde(ish), red, blue, pink, purple, black, and for a very short time, a horrid forest green after an attempt at color correction went very wrong.

maybe people don't like me because i'm fat. i've been heavier. i've been lighter. ive been a bigger size, i've been a smaller size. in high school i weighed 140 and had a 28" waist. now i'm almost 40 and have a 28" thigh.

maybe people don't like me because i have kids. i'm hesitant myself to date other people with kids because it's a HUGE responsibility to be in a child's life, for a short time or a long time. even a one time memory can have a lasting effect.

maybe people don't like me because i have tattoos and piercings.

maybe people don't like me because i pronounce words wrong/different.

maybe people don't like my views on politics or religion or which grocery store is the best.

maybe people don't like me because i still own dvd's and refuse to make a digital library. I LIKE THE ACTUAL DVD'S. LEAVE ME ALONE.

maybe it's because i don't like the right music.
 
maybe i talk too much about weird topics (how many people do you know with a book of drawings done by a guard at the gulag?).

maybe it's because i like pineapple on pizza.

maybe it's because they found someone else they have a better connection with.

maybe it's because no one is required to like everyone else on the planet.

maybe i have man hands and don't own a pirate blouse and those are the only two Seinfeld references i know. 

not every rejection is a meat cleaver to the chest. sometimes it's a papercut on your pinkie. sometimes it doesn't even leave a scratch.

people are shallow ya'll.

and that's actually a good thing.

it means maybe i can give myself a break. maybe i'm not actually a terrible monster of a person. i'm just a weird little duck. even weird little ducks can have a great life. 

not everyone hates me as much as i hate myself.

which is actually helping me hate myself less.

funny thing how less hate leads to less hate.


but you know, all those shallow people? it's a time saver. if they think i'm not a match because i don't eat anything purple? how the fuck are they going to handle me when i'm in full PMS rage ranting about who keeps putting the milk back in the fridge on the wrong damn shelf?

sure, it would have been nice if a few had stuck around a little longer.

there's a lot of things that would be nice if they happened.

accidentally becoming uuber famous with endless money to help people out and travel with friends, but without any of the paparazzi or internet trolls? that would be SUPER nice if it happened.

but in the mean time, i'll take a little shallowness and a whole lot less self hate.

that seems like a pretty damn good place to start.

becoming

you can read this as is, but if you take an hour, go watch Nanette, the special by Hannah Gadsby on Netflix, you will have a broader understanding of what i'm struggling and flailing to say here. i've watched Nanette 3 times already and she says things so beautifully, so powerfully, so clearly and concisely. it has truly impacted me in a way i can't explain. i have never, ever, ever before connected so deeply, so profoundly to someone else's story. I've never seen myself in someone else so completely. her raw honestly revealed and unlocked ALL of what follows for me.

no wonder i hate myself so much. i grew up not even knowing gay people existed. there were NO gay people in my home town, so OF COURSE i couldn’t even begin to think that _i_ could be one of “those people.” but i knew enough to know i was glad i wasn't one of "those people." i grew up in church that didn’t even address “those people” because “those people” didn’t exist.

which is worse? invisibility or non-existence?

BUT if “those people” DID exist, they would be gross and wrong and we shouldn’t like them or be friends with them. they all have aids, they’re all loud, flamboyant, flaming, fishnet shirt wearing freaks. you shouldn’t like them. that’s just not something you actually DO. they’re weird. people don’t like weird people.

“don’t be gay” was both a slur and a command. 

but i AM one of those people. and i grew up not HATING a part of myself, but not even having a clue that i was missing an entire half of me. i still really don’t know what that half of me is, but i know it’s there.

but it was ok, because i could pass as straight. i do like men. so i can just ignore all these bad gay thoughts and only pay attention to these good straight thoughts. you get really good at compartmentalizing. picking and choosing what to feel and when. for survival. for *some* acceptance. so we just won’t acknowledge this whole half. it’s fine. look. just tuck those feelings away. and a few of these. and ALL of those. you get really, really good at it. but living with the very real and tangible fear of what would happen if anyone knew about those thoughts...it makes you almost...i dont know...dysfunctional. unable to form ANY kind of bond.

or relationship.

on either side.

because how bad is hearing all those things for YEARS and just holding it inside feeling it about myself, NEVER able to speak up. never being able to say: STOP TALKING ABOUT ME LIKE THAT. 

and to be completely honest, i’m still awkward around gay people. BECAUSE I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT HALF OF MYSELF IS. i do like women. 100% without question. i am incredibly, powerfully, attracted to women. not for attention. not as a party favor. but as beautiful, powerful, sexy, intelligent, amazing human beings. but all i know about BEING that half of myself is hate and to fear and those feelings. i shouldn’t have them. they shouldn't exist because they’re bad.

and because i can pass as straight, i don’t know what it’s like to feel the full weight of being gay. to feel the judgement ALL THE TIME. i’ve been able to “choose” to keep half of myself hidden.  i am still attracted to men. so when im attracted to a woman, i just ignore that bit and wait for another man to circle around. i’ll just wait and keep the women part to myself. i’ve “had an out” this whole time. but i do still feel the judgement, because i can’t just stop being gay. i can hide that part. but that doesnt make it any less real.

here’s the bitch of it though. i’m not just compartmentalizing, i really am scared to “be gay.”

i see so much anger and hate still. i know so. many. people. who are not accepting.

i know so few who are.

the teeter totter is off balance. 

i grew up just aware enough of “gay” to know it was two things: aids and death. thats it. thats “gay” in its entirety. not people. not lives. not relationships and culture. it’s AIDS and DEATH.  that’s fucking terrifying.

everything i know about “gay” is hardship. and i have plenty of that already thanks to some stellar life choices that were *actual* choices. for people who still think gay is a choice- do you think i’ve spent my life CHOOSING the be afraid of half of myself? scared to death (possibly literally) that someone might find out? so if i can compartmentalize that section and keep SOME scary stuff away? i can’t compartmentalize kids. or tragedy. trust me, i’ve tried. those fuckers are slightly more demanding. but this “half gay” part...yeah. just shove that aside and ignore it. it’s just trouble anyway. so what’s a little misery and feeling broken? it will be fine. suck it up. there’s other things going on. just raise your kids and go to work. 

so i just tried to learn how to blend in. my whole life is about trying to blend in. and people talked around me. as i grew up and became an adult, i HEARD all the hate and all the things i was TERRIFIED of. i heard the judgement and the venom and the dehumanization. i heard the jokes and the slurs and the denial of basic human rights.

but they weren’t directed AT me. they never have been. because no one knew i’m “one of those." i just ended up having an unintentional extra seat to the shit show. and all i had to do is keep my mouth shut. just blend in. just keep “being straight”. i look straight. i have kids. i was married to a man. i talk about dating men (while i dream about dating women). they don’t know theyre talking about me because i’ve learned to blend in so well. and besides, it’s not really even me because i can “turn it off” half the time.

and i hear it, all the time. and i can see how terrible the world is to people and i’m a fucking shallow selfish bitch. i KNOW all the terrible things people think and say about “those people.” i’ve heard the things people say when “one of those” isn’t around. the things coward are too scared to say TO THE FACE of the person they’re slandering. but they WERE saying it TO MY FACE. they just didn’t know. they say ALL the things when the person they’re talking to isn’t around. you know how the room goes quiet when someone walks in because assholes suddenly lose their nerve? THAT’S THE STUFF I HEAR. and i am terrified i’m not strong enough to tolerate it for real. i would rather live in perpetual fear and loathing of myself and hearing those things in the background than learn to love and accept and stand up for myself. come back to that later and try to unpack that. oy. 

instead i’ve learned to hate half of myself ALL of the time AND pretend it doesn’t exist. and somehow make myself think that’s fine.

so i live with my fear of half of myself because i was raised to hate half of myself. not even hate really. just always thought of it as “wrong” or “against nature”.  you didn’t have to hate it if just didn’t exist. and, mostly, it still doesn’t exist. i've never dated a woman or had a long term relationship with a woman.

to be fair though, i haven’t really had any relationships with men either though. it’s hard to let people like you when you’re programmed to hate your self for reasons you are *JUST NOW* starting to figure out.

but that fear, that hiding has kept me totally away from the community. i don’t know what it’s like to “be gay.” i've only ever been around a few gay people in my entire life, individually. and events like pride where all the gay people are being gay and letting all their gay out in public is SO overwhelming to me. i'm a quiet gay. i don’t know how to be a part of it. i don’t know how to be a proper gay. 

and then, just for fun, add a little guilt. guilt for giving into the fear. guilt for being able to hide. guilt for actually hiding. because that gets to be a thing too.

and then, ON TOP OF THAT, oh, by the bi, being bi isn’t really a thing. being bi “don’t exist,” i’m “just confused.”  you can’t REALLY like both. which one do you like MORE?

YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE A SIDE.

again. which is worse? being invisible or not existing?

and i just want to yell at everyone: maybe it’s not about a “which” ITS ABOUT A WHO. people are more than the parts that go out or in. 

but i am, fully, completely bi-sexual. it does exist. it is a REAL thing. i really, truly do, EQUALLY like both sides.

but i even in that, i know i have it so easy. i only have to hate half of myself. “real” gay people don’t have a “choice” i can “choose” to be gay or straight.

that’s really how i think of being bi. i can compartmentalize it and “be straight”

but here’s the thing, even when i’m “being straight” it doesn’t mean i’m suddenly “not gay.”

just because it’s baseball season doesn’t mean you’re not looking forward to football season. you don’t have to stop liking one just because it isn’t happening right now. 

being bi doesn’t mean you’re “straight” half the time, it means all the time you get to listen to people shame half of who you are TO YOUR FACE because “they didn’t know” you ARE what they’re talking about. that part doesn’t just go into hibernation when you’re “being straight." it means you find out, up front, that some people are only, ever, half ok with who you are. at most. makes so many more relationships fake from the beginning. being friends is contingent on you “staying straight” and staying acceptable. you know that if you ever allow “that part” of you out, you lose half the people, instantly. you’ve already heard their judgement and their opinions. and that’s fucking terrifying to hear and to carry around. all. the. time. constantly worried that if people realize you “tricked them” what’s waiting on the other side.

and then you add in that even in the realm of gay, bi-sexual still isn’t quite  accepted.

i’ve searched my whole life for a place to belong.

i’m too straight to be proper gay.

and i’m too gay to be proper straight.

i love country music and books. you can’t be queer and love country music. you’re supposed to love pop music and dance parties, not staying home and reading. i’m not into glitter and wine. sure brunch is good, but have you ever had a good steak and bourbon late at night?  i wear jeans but not flannel. i wear cowboy boots, but not doc martens. i’m too femme to be butch, but too butch to be femme.

i’m not the “right kind” of gay, even if i could accept myself for being gay.

it’s bad enough that i can’t even accept myself, now BOTH SIDES can’t accept me.

but i am good for a party trick. you know, for the girl who wants to give her boyfriend a special birthday present.

for the couple who wants to “keep things fresh” in the bedroom.

because that’s a super special feeling. being a side show piece. someone for fun, not someone for real.

i just want a place to belong. i want to belong WITH MYSELF. and i want to belong with others.

and i’ve learned to hide that. #singleasfuck has become a joke. if i can laugh at it then maybe it won’t hurt so bad admitting i can’t find someone who accepts me. STARTING WITH MYSELF.

you think being single is lonely? try hating the only person you spend time with.

so. here i am. recognizing this MASSIVE truth about myself. and now the world around me seems so open but so raw at the same time. and i don’t know where to go from here.

what in my life is real? what in my home is real? what are parts i’ve constructed to hide or try to blend in?

do i need to “gay up” my house now? do i need to start finding a way to “be more gay?”

what do i need to do to start really embracing and living that half of me?

maybe recognize that she’s quietly been there, all along, patiently waiting to be recognized?

it’s not an accident that in my own house, where i picked all the things, that all my artwork is of females. mermaids. tiki girls. portraits. all feminine. because that’s what i’m attracted to.

my neon rainbow. it’s not an accident that i bought that on impulse at target. it’s not an accident that it’s the first light i turn on in my living room every evening and the last light i turn off.

there’s a reason my country music is brandy clark, kacey musgraves, marren morris, jennifer nettles. women stronger and bolder than i am about using their voice.

there’s a reason all my favorite authors are women. joshilyn jackson. kate furnival. sara gruen. jk rowling. women who have learned to use their gifts and talents and not be afraid to make their stories be heard.

i am in awe of the women who know their own worth and fight for equality. the emma watson, kerry washington, gal gadot, rose mcgowan women out there standing up saying THIS ISN’T RIGHT and making the change happen. 

it goes beyond sexuality. some of those women are gay or bi. most of them aren’t. but i am so attracted to women because of who they can become. because of their strength. because of their fight and determination.

but i also still. love. men. i adore male partners and friends who bring a different perspective to my life. a different experience. a different set of expectations. men have taught me to be tough, thick skinned, resourceful. i appreciate the traditional sense of belonging they represent. i appreciate the order and construct they provide. i’m very attracted to masculinity, in the calm way. in their acceptance of the traditional role as provider and protector. NOT in the controller and testosterone soaked way. i have no use for big trucks and little egos and people who use fear to manipulate. 

my personality is very ordered and structured and traditional. logic and reason. doing things the proper way. making the proper choices. i long for a partner, male or female, that can help me have a structured, logical, loving, accepting life.

but i guess to look for that in a partner, i need to start looking for that in myself first.

accept others

i was raised to be polite. to bite my tongue. don't stand out. don't be the loud one.

always be in control of your actions. always be thoughtful and reasonable.

we didn't talk about politics in my house growing up, EVER. religion was not discussed, it just WAS. every sunday morning and sunday evening and wednesdays. there was never a discussion about it. or why we went to that specific church. or why we suddenly switched churches. it just was.

there was one lesbian teacher at our school and she did her best to blend in, never cause trouble, never cause suspicion or even the slightest whisper of improper behavior or language or anything.

i didn't grow up learning about women's rights. i didn't know about LGBTQ. i didn't know about...fuck, anything really. i graduated high school because that's what you do. pregnant or not. and went to college because it's what you do, especially when you have a kid to support. education = better job (that was the standard line then). i became a secretary because i was good at it. of course my pay was less because it's a support staff role. it wasn't because i'm female.

things just were the way they were. when i asked questions i was wrong. so you don't ask questions. just accept things as they are and keep your head down and keep doing what you're doing.

stability, security, staying out of the newspaper. that was it.

well, here i am now, 37, and i'm tired of things just being the way they are. i'm tired of biting my tongue. i'm tired of not speaking my mind because it might offend someone. i'm tired of filtering myself to only let specific parts around specific people because it's what they're comfortable with. WHAT ABOUT WHAT I'M COMFORTABLE WITH.

i'm tired of seeing the assholes get away with being assholes.

i'm tired of feeling like i can't find a space to belong because it would mean leaving a piece of myself behind.

i can fit in with this group, but they don't like gay people.

i can fit in with this group but they don't like tattoos.

i can fit in with this group but they aren't intellectual and don't get most of my comments.

i'm not religious enough for them, i'm too spiritual for that group...

i can fit in with that group but they don't like that i tend to be a conservative democrat, or *gasp* an independent.

i can fit in with the other group but they don't get that i have kids.

i'm too gay to be straight, but not gay enough to BE GAY.
 
don't talk about sex around that group, don't mention empathic abilities or chakra healing around those people, those people think yoga is on the level with witch craft. don't talk about...

the venn diagram of my acquaintance groups looks more like a bowl of cheerios scattered on the floor. *maybe* a little overlap like the olympic rings, but...actually, probably more like audi. 

it's fucking exhausting and lonely.

JUST BE YOURSELF.

says the person who hasn't been removed from seemingly every invitation list.

says the person who hasn't been on the other side of the nasty looks and snide comments.

or says the person who has found a self confidence and bulletproof self worth that i can't even begin to imagine.



so, almost a year ago i quit my job.

this will all tie in together, i promise.

i complained about my job all the time, we all do, but i was good at it. it paid well, i had insurance, 401K, i had coworkers i liked, i had a routine down and i had everything dialed in.

i also listened to hate speech all the time.

i listened on the regular to talk like: "my wife had to sit next to some of THOSE people on the plane to Hawaii. they  were going to get married. they shouldn't be allowed to get married."

"if a gay service person came to my house [the comcast guy in this instance], i would tell them to leave and call the company to complain and make them send someone else."

"single moms are destroying our economy. they just sit around all day collecting child support and welfare. do you know how much my cousin got on her tax return? $5000 and she's on welfare."

"i'm prejudice. i'm not afraid to say it." "you mean against (whipsering) african americans?" "nope. all of them. i'm prejudice against all of them."

that last comment, a conversation between a coworker and the owner was the final straw for me. i turned in my two day notice on wednesday and was done that friday.

i told the owner EXACTLY why i was quitting. she didn't even bat an eye. SHE. yes, a female owner. nothing. what she DID do is leave the office and announce to the whole office that i was quitting, go to the coworker that the prejudice conversation was with and tell her.

the coworker immediately confronted me and blamed me for her being blamed for my quitting. told me i was "being too sensitive" and she "didn't mean it that way" and i needed to let things roll off my back.

SHE. DOUBLED. DOWN.

and i, as calmly as i could explained, that there's not too many ways you can mean "i'm prejudice against all of them." i explained that no, it wasn't *just* because of her, but she did need to own a part of it. yes, it was a pile of other things too. but YES, YOUR HORRIBLE WORDS FINISHED IT.

but, nearly a year later, MUCH introspection, and a really, incredibly hard mental health month later, here's what i have to say:

to my coworkers:

you want to rant about single moms needing welfare? maybe it's because we had to take a $5 PER HOUR pay-cut when we had to leave our job due to racism and bigotry.

maybe we need help because we got tired of our coworkers groping our breasts whenever they felt like it and decided no job was worth dealing with that.

maybe we need help because when we file a sexual harassment complaint the person who harassed and groped you IS ALLOWED TO HUG YOU AS AN APOLOGY.

you're so worried about your wife or your family being "exposed" to a gay person like it's a disease??

SORRY I GOT MY GAY ON YOUR WIFE AT THE CHRISTMAS PARTY WHEN I SHOOK HER HAND. she should probably just get her whole arm amputated. you can afford it. you still have insurance.

so. to my former coworkers, you won that battle. i'm ashamed i quit and walked away without standing up for myself. i'm ashamed i didn't call you out and make you realize that all your venomous speech was impacting someone literally across the room from you. in all your hatred and closed mindedness you couldn't even imagine that you might know someone that didn't agree, and even possible be sitting just 10 feet away from you.

i hope, with all my being, none of your children are gay. i can't imagine that pain and heartache having a parent like you would cause them.

i've seen your ugly hearts. i've listened to your ignorant words. i 've listened to your hate and "jokes" and i stayed quiet because _I_ was raised to be polite and go out of my way to make sure no one else feels the way you unthinkingly make everyone around you feel.

but you know what?

i'm done.

i won't go out of my way to be rude to you, like you were for YEARS to me. i was raised better than that.

but i will no longer be polite. i will no longer bite my tongue.

it's a small town. if i see you out and about, i will not hide myself to avoid you. i will say hello and offer you the acceptance and sense of humanity you refuse to others. but if i hear you make horrible comments or "jokes", I WILL SAY SOMETHING. i will not make a scene. i will not make a spectacle. but i will not be quiet any longer.

you're so big and brave when you don't know the person you're talking about is listening.

SAY IT TO MY FACE. i will no longer let it slide.

i'm learning, slowly, painfully, incredibly late in life, i'm learning to love who i am. not pieces. not love the socially presentable version of myself. i'm learning how to love ALL of myself. 

i just looked up and saw a magnet on my fridge and laughed a little.

do you see it?

no, not the sweet saved by the bell magnet.

no, not the pictures of my kid or the puppy medicine...

no...the other one, the top corner, right above oscar the grouch...

accept others.

maybe i need to tape over that and write YOURSELF.