Update

So, it has been some time. Hello!

My goals have changed as well as my life. I am loving living in Denver, Colorado. The weather is nice, the people are nice as well as fairly attractive (in all the ways). I am happy here, I think.

Decided to apply to PA school instead of medical school. A lot has happened this year. Moved to Colorado. Got fired, presumably because I am bisexual, but what to do? Do I sue a huge organization in Denver? How long do I have to do that? I am not sure.

Started an amazing job, but I am super poor. I know that is a (hopefully) temporary situation, but I’ve definitely come to realize I appreciate all of my freedoms. Still kinda on again off again with Adventurous– I’m fickle and “hard to hold on to” (I know that comes from a singer but don’t know which one). Like I don’t know the whole cliche “I love you but am I IN LOVE with you?” How do you figure that out.

 

Still need to lose weight. Shocker. I got a fitbit and have been tapping at it and it makes dots, so far unimpressed. I would like to write more, write a book, a musical, a blog all of it.

 

SO. I will start posting here more often. Going to pitch a story about spirituality and sexuality to Huffington post, lets see what happens! Starting a freelance writing and photography business, and suggestions out there?

 

ALSO if any of y’all live in Denver, hit me up!

My what a difference a few weeks can make

It’s been awhile– but remember that date I went on? With adventurous girl?

Yeah…. I like her. A lot. and she likes me. and wants us to be exclusive.

And we hike and kiss and hold hands and she is a bit introverted and a bit guarded but brilliant and funny and sarcastic and likes theater and likes medicine and I LIKE HER MUCHO and it is freaking both of us out because… it’s been what… 2.5- 3 weeks? I don’t know about this “exclusive” thing. But I know I’m not seeing anyone else right now. I didn’t mean for this to be a serious relationship or seem serious at all– but I think I’m actually maybe more into her than she is to me! But I don’t know man. Is that too soon?

Mmmm.

Mmmm.

What’s the plan? I have no idea. But I do know that I am intrigued by her, and she is tough tough so tough… until there is this glimmer of vulnerability, this laugh, this surprise that she is laughing. And it is adorable and I crave it, and she is a good kisser, and I am not sure what to do with her.

Life is interesting.

SO, remember that one time two weeks ago I said I didn’t ever want to date again?

Yeah …… well ….. lies.

Clarification– I want to date, but I don’t want to date seriously. I want to date in a way that is not complicated, that is fun and doesn’t make my heart hurt, that I enjoy doing. I met this gal. 

I know, I know.

I told you I went on this date the other day. It went really well. We proceeded to then spend another 4-5 hours together on the next day, and most of yesterday as well. She is lovely.

I am excited. 

I haven’t had that fluttery excited feeling about meeting someone new since I met Lovely. I will call this gal Adventurous. Adventurous and I have a lot in common, including our perspective on relationships and life. We just met 3 days ago, but I feel like I’ve known her much longer.

I can kind of relate to Lovely’s month long relationship becoming intense fairly quickly.

I don’t want things to be intense though, just to set the temperature in this place and keep it here. Fun and light and exciting. I love that phase.

 

Dates and Dreams

I keep dreaming about Lovely.

I wake up sad, like someone I loved has died.

Yesterday in my dream I asked if I could hold her hand, and she said yes. We walked along a path with flowers on the sides, holding hands. We were walking down a hill, and there was a bum playing the acoustic guitar and we both agreed it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

I told her I’m sorry I broke her heart, I’m sorry it took so long. She said she knew, and she was sorry she made a wall around her heart. I told her about the date I went on, and she said she was happy in her new relationship. I nodded, and told her I was excited about the date I was on. At the end of the path we embraced, and then started kissing, and she whispered “I hope I’ll be back” and I said “Me too.” And then we kissed again and I woke up crying because I let go of her hand.

During my days I’ve been keeping myself so busy. I’m more upset that Lovely cut me out of Facebook and her life than I am that she is dating someone else. She promised me she wanted a friendship– was that a lie? I am confused and really hurt by her doing that, as stupid as it sounds. But I mean if someone doesn’t want me in their life, I am not going to force them to have me in it! But it is also strange for someone to just try and erase me 😦 I would have liked to *talk* to her, to just be friends, to share stuff– but she has made it clear she wants nothing to do with me. Like I said– I guess if someone thinks I am that awful of a human being, I wouldn’t want them to have to put up with the likes of me, eh?

Yesterday, I went on a date. My choice is to either curl up in my bed and rock back and forth (which I did for like 2 weeks) and cry OR distract myself.

And pretty people are good distractions.

At first I was nervous to meet this one gal, she was so formal on the phone. BUT SHE WAS AWESOME.

I set my alarm in case it went badly, and it was fantastic. She was a stage manager for a show on broadway (sooo I don’t want to give too much info because of identifying information). She was in a *very* long term relationship, and now she wants to be a flight rescue gal in the mountains by day, and open her own theater production company by night. So cool! And she has the cutest laugh (I sense a theme of intelligence and humor and happiness and confidence in the people I’m attracted to). And she was super smart. And funny. And really good at humor and jokes and likes beer and doesn’t like partying too much, and is wise.

It was strange to be honest. We met at 6:15 and didn’t leave until they closed the patio at 11. And it was nice. And I felt something, this giggly butterfly happy feeling that I haven’t felt for awhile.

Life is strange. Okay self I make you shut down and be distracted,  if that is what I have to do to live, I guess that’s what I’ll do.

After first kiss with Smiles*

Found this gem as I was digging up some of my writing. This is right after my kiss with Smiles* (now at this time– we were in Argentina*, I had a mad crush on a guy with a serious girlfriend, Smiles was trying to figure out if she was bi or gay or what, and I had never considered it). I also was drunk out of my mind and did not actually piece things together until later. But apparently my mind knew what I didn’t. Embarrassing and poor Smiles.

Enjoy:

Restless restless restless.

“I ached for my heart like some tin min. And when it came oh it beat and it boiled and it rang. Oh it’s ringing.”

I ache for my heart. Maybe the way to name this feeling is it is not that my mind is restless (oh wretched tendency) but it is my heart.

But it is more than that. It is not even as if I cannot sleep, and this would be the end of my problem.  If this were true, I could predict the happenings. I would lie awake, most likely for hours. I would toss, and turn, and curse the clock. My legs would intertwine with the lilac sheets, and every physical feeling would be noted objectively. I would bemoan my misfortune, and consider life paths, life loves, medical school, running away to be a writer, the to-do list that is always etched in the forefront of my mind (which is ridiculous because the frontal lobe has little to do with memory). I would then fall asleep, fitfully, just about the time the Konchos geared their engines in the morning. I would wake up, and probably not fully function the entire day. Right around 5 pm I may wake up, and a dreadful cycle would begin—(one of which I am quite familiar).

Unfortunately it is not just that I cannot sleep, although this is a consequence. I have a sizzling energy about me that hasn’t left me all day. It is a tip of the tongue feeling, something that should be addressed. Something I am forgetting, and my body is embodying this memory of something that makes me slightly uncomfortable but is exciting. I am the opposite of bored, but this is trapping me.  Like I need to decide, or have a painful conversation, or that something is about to happen and it will be devastating in either a beautiful or dreadful way—but we (audience) do not know which yet. I have the inclination that somehow that outcome is up to me, but I have no idea what I am even talking about right now. It is just a very specific feeling.

None of my normal mechanisms are available to me.  I cannot run. I cannot even walk here as far as I could and come back for hours in whichever direction I want. (I know I harp on the lacking of Idaho*—but the safety is priceless). I cannot take a hot shower. I cannot paint.  I cannot sing.

But I can write, and so here we are.

It is nervousness and anticipation and the pit of my stomach telling me I am afraid of something, but the way every cell in my body is buzzing—I cannot tell if I should actually be afraid; or merely embrace whatever is about to happen. I don’t think this is premonition exactly, but I simply feel like I am missing something big.

If I could wrap my feelings into a few other emotions, it would be a combination of the following:

1)   Facing something when I am not sure of the other person’s reaction, and that reaction matters to me.

2)   Trying to recall a word that is the perfect one to be able to describe a situation, but not being able to.

3)   A first date.

4)   A large decision that will affect my or others’ lives.

5)   Anticipation.

6)   When I know something is coming (ie a tornado).

7)   After a resolution to do something difficult, but you know you must in order to be at peace.

8)   How I felt after that walk with Alex* (aside—boy with girlfriend).

Sidebar: I am not sure if it is even wise to get into that, at this point. I am not sure if this has to do with him, but I somehow don’t think so. Mostly because no matter how difficult and annoying those feelings are, Alex does not make me feel on edge or anxious or buzzing or ‘sparkly’—Alex makes me feel like me. He is like a cup of ‘no-pun-intended’ (dear Lord my dear, are you really making jokes to yourself during your crazy maniacal quest to discover whatever the hell is wrong with you?)

But really. despite the conflicting emotions and desire to stay away from any bindings I may have to someone who quite obviously cannot be mine, Alex makes me relaxed, comfortable, like a higher-definition of myself. I feel like I understand him, he I. There is no buzzing or anxiety there, only comfort. Although I could understand your original suspicions that it could be this—I really don’t think it is. Even with the e-mail situation, everything is definitely calculated. It is not as if I am surprised that I relate in such a real manner to him. I am not twitter-pated, I have no butterflies, I am not surprised. It just objectively is what it is—but that doesn’t make it easier that I objectively like him and his character. I feel like the reason whatever this feeling is, is similar to the walk after Alex was that then I was toying with the idea of telling him how I felt. However, I have not even considered that as a possibility since then, which is why I am reticent to say this today has anything to do with Alex.

Maybe this is discovery enough for now, I am hoping this feeling will be gone in the morning.

Kiddos

So, my padre is coming around. I think.

He emailed me just saying he loved me, he had kind of figured it out when I ranted about what love was a month ago. And he doesn’t want to talk about it now, but sometime. Same with mom– she is much more pouty which annnnnnnoys me.

So yes. We will wait and see.

IN THE MEAN TIME.

I love my job. It is exhausting, but I love it, I love it. I stayed an hour late to talk to a gal on Friday, just me and her. And there is this beautiful moment when these kids’ guard goes down, and they realize I actually care, and they just begin to SPEAK. Like, just talk to me. Pouring out their feelings and hearts and just wanting someone to listen and acknowledge that yeah they may be 14, but life is not easy for them. This isn’t a prep school, or a magnet school. These are schools where there are uniforms so that the gangs can’t pressure kids to wear their tags, where moms yell at their kids for having their periods because “that must mean you had sex,” where brothers and sisters drop out because they get pregnant as a freshman. These kids have challenges– but that doesn’t mean they aren’t smart, or very VERY aware of the climb they face.

And they want someone to know that they may be 14, but damn it if they were only 14, why the hell should they have to deal with all of this? And they come in, they have hard faces and look tough, and I somehow am able to disarm them and let them just be in this place with me where I ask them to look at what they want, and what they could be capable of wanting, and most of all let them know that they deserve it.

I am so grateful.

Flashback- my first female love

I talked to the first girl I loved, curly hair, or “Smiles” last night.

Back in the day, I fell so hard for her. I think I kind of explained what happened, but maybe not. She was coming off of being in a relationship with a guy— and started having feelings for his female roommate. 

Draaaaammmmma.

I had feelings for women before that, but kind of brushed it off. But Smiles just swept me away. I was infatuated by her, and we were infatuated with each other. I remember one night we spent all night just talking with one another, was the wind came in the window and we could hear the sounds of music in the streets of Argentina*, and we were so enthralled/intrigued and thirsty for the other person.

We had a thing. Doesn’t that sound weird? We had a thing for and with one another, and spent the summer doing “photo shoots” of us kissing to just “make *Tara jealous.” I still have those photos on my computer– a few beers, me with a backwards baseball cap and a striped shirt putting my hand on her thigh, her waist, her side. Kissing her against a car. Laughing so hard we were drunk off of each other’s happiness.

This all culminated in an evening where Smiles was in the middle, and she was sitting next to a guy. We made out in the back of a cab, and I was intoxicated with her lips, her teeth, the softness of her body. That kiss— those kisses— are among the most intense in my life. Smiles and I were never “officially a thing” on facebook or to our families (or for me at that point, it took a few months to even tell my friends)– and in fact, after that magical summer, I freaked the fuck out. I pretended like it didn’t happen. I came back to grad school, and developed a friendship with her. We never called it what it was– taking each other on dates, letting hands linger on the body for too long, pressing against each other and inhaling the scent of each other’s wrists and limbs and finally silently being with each other. But if I close my eyes, I can remember skinny dipping in the ocean– the way it went on for miles and we went on for miles, and we were so present which is so rare for me sometimes. 

It wasn’t until I was about to leave that I told her. It was dramatic. “I like coffee, and car rides, and you…” Oh, I fell so hard, but by the time I gathered up the courage to tell her that the summer we were together was more than just a summer fling, we were both leaving for other things. She had dinner with my family at graduation because hers didn’t come, and everyone LOVED her. She is so laid back, and sometimes so flakey, but when you are with her it is like the sun on your skin. She makes you glow, and feel warm, and when I am with Smiles I love my life, every second of it.

She called me last night, at 1:00 am. Sober. I was asleep, but answered, and we talked for about 2 hours. My sleeping patterns are horrendous.

Now, I closed the door on Smiles last year a little before this time (it seems so long and so short ago, hugh?) I wanted to be with Lovely and give us a shot. Smiles and I had some fundamental things that would have been hard to work out– namely the flakiness and extreme sexual/drug risks Smiles was okay with and I would have a hard time with. She’d cheated before, she was semi self-destructive, she has bipolar 2. She drank hard. These things meant sometimes she was unreliable, which in a long-distance partner would just breed jealousy.

But I did take time away from her until I stopped being in love with her, and until she stopped being in love with me. I think you can definitely love people without it working out.

However, she would call sometimes and I noticed it was when she was having romantic troubles, which I didn’t like. I didn’t want to be a fall-back. She was upset when I decided not to visit her back in August/September, and then upset again when I WANTED to visit last March. She is pretty good with meds now.

But we talked for two hours. Things that last year in April/May would have made my heart ache, like her telling me that I was the best kisser she’s ever had, and that our connection was firey and thirsty— just make me giggle and smile and say “yeah. yeah, it should be like that.”

She is dating new girl that is an AWFUL kisser haha, and she mentioned the two nights that I most remember us being intimate in Argentina*. Ego boooooost. But for real– it does give me hope with Lovely because even after talking at 1 in the morning for 2 hours with Smiles… I hung up the phone, smiled to myself, was happy I had a dear friend to relate to, and fell back to sleep.

That does not happen with any kind of heartache for me. I feel only love for Smiles, but not a smidgen of heartache for her. I told her about Lovely, and she said cryptically using her pet name for me, “You know, the universe brings you back together if you should be, you know? Just remember that. That’s what I think when I think of you.”

And I told her I loved her, and she said she loved me, and we meant it and knew we would always be in each others lives. As dear ones, not lovers, and that was okay with both of us I think.

I don’t know if it can ever be that way with Lovely. “What about Smiles? You got over her?”

It is different, a different way and kind of love you build with different people. And a different level of intimacy– Lovely and I were so, so intimate in ways that shock me. Smiles and I were intimate in different ways. 

Smiles, though. I miss her, too. I just want to hug her and talk and talk and talk– it has been over a year since we’ve seen each other in person. I just remember her yelling on a rooftop “Cot!” which is the spanish nickname for me, and running and jumping in my arms after we’d been apart for a month. I was so happy, and delighted, and clearly so was she. I so look forward to seeing her again– we’ve talked about me visiting soon, and I am excited to see my friend.

 

Coming Out- Part II of Aftermath

I know I did a drastic thing.

I knew this, and feared it, and prepped myself for it many times over.

The devastation of Lovely essentially wanting to erase me overwhelmed me and everything else stopped mattering (has stopped mattering). My life, my health, just everything seems so insignificant next to it. So much so that coming out to my family was like draining a wound– it had to be done to heal.

Sigh. Fuck.

I knew it would be bad. I knew it would be bad.

But.. I was kind of hoping they would be like we’re confused but of course we love you.

Ha. HA!

Not a chance.

My mom won’t talk to me at all on the phone. She’s been texting long essays to the effect of “Wow, thought I knew you, but I don’t” and “Well it definitely changes things, there is a major wedge between us” and “I am deeply saddened by your choice, I’m not going to act or pretend that it’s okay because I don’t.”

Sigh. Fuck. Shit.

I just want to get to the part where they accept me blah blah and my love and who I am! I am happy for me, why can’t they be? I like being a whole person and not pieces of one, I like being the same person around my Love as my friends as my family (cutting out a few expletives here and there).

My mom claims she wants a “great, close” relationship– well here it is. You know what you don’t share with your parents in a surface relationship? Anything hard. Anything controversial. Anything dissident from their beliefs. So parents with kids that don’t share that stuff are fooling themselves if they think it isn’t there.

Real life, knowing ME, knowing YOU– sometimes it isn’t pretty, and it is messy, and complicated. The thing that makes me mad is that my relationship with Lovely was ONLY wonderful EXCEPT the family thing (which made it messy and complicated). There was nothing wrong or dirty or bad or evil or hateful or sinful about who we were together. We had a great fucking relationship, and it was one of the healthiest I’ve been in until the end of it– and that was because we both were like WHY end something awesome?

I am trying not to be mad at my mom. Trying to be understanding. Trying to give her space. But I AM mad. I AM upset. Why do I have to suffer because of their prejudices, or feel like I have to apologize for who I am?

I will not fucking apologize for my sexuality– I spent too many years having too many people try and get me to be ashamed of something that is mine and FUCK THEM not theirs. Go be angsty and ashamed of your own damned body and sex life, and leave me out of it.

I mean, obviously I don’t say these things to my parents. I love them, right? But they are supposed to love me too, and loving someone means letting them be who they are without shaming them for it. ARGH how do you gently do this?

How do you give someone time and try not to be mad at them for taking too long (it’s been like 3 days man!)

Tell meeeeee!

The aftermath: coming out

So, I mentioned in my last post that I came out to my parents via an emailed letter to them (a version of which I posted earlier in this blog). I had been meaning to wait and tell my dad in person, and then email them both this letter. However, in light of my recent (or at least FEELING recent and raw) break-up, I broke down in the car crying with my mom.

My spirit was beat-up, and really, really exhausted. And the thing is kids– we can’t do it alone. This thing, this part of me that I’d treated as insignificant, had become a separator and it was and has destroyed things I’ve built that I valued.

See– I kept thinking: it’s not a big deal. I am brunette. I like women and men. I really like sushi. I hate Kraft mac and cheese.

Then there was the sneaking up on me, thing that happened. Where a relationship I enjoyed became a relationship I cherished. Where something that might have stung at one point instead had me retching and writhing on the floor, not eating, not drinking, from the loss of it.

It is somewhere within that space that NOT telling my family became more devastating and scarier and lonely and created more distance than telling them ever could. Not letting my mom know why I couldn’t sleep, why I cried while laying in the car sobbing and heaving and gagging from loss, why my heart was so broken– this became not doable any more.

So the silver-lining to the twisting tearing end of Lovely and I is ironically the very thing that could have kept us together. Like, forever. The pain of not sharing who she was to me became more unbearable than the pain it took to share this part of me with my family– who I know will and are struggling.

My dad has not talked to me, responded to me, or answered my calls since I told him. My mom emailed me saying that she was overwhelmed by the information, and it would take her time to process before she could talk to me. So basically, neither of my parents have contacted me since I let them know. So basically– of the four people I would have said I love most in this whole entire world– 3 of them are not speaking to me at all. My poor sister…. 🙂

And you know what? Instead of the deep sinking pit feeling, I feel the feeling you feel after running a hard race. I am tired, and I have to sit down, and sip water, and rest– but I feel empty in a way that is refreshing. Light in a way that exposes you to the way you have been carrying something heavy for a long, long time.

I am marrying all the parts of my life, and being a person who values authenticity, this fractured portrait of myself has been more exhausting than I realized to maintain. I want everything– and I don’t want the prejudice of ignorance to ever destroy my happiness or my relationships again. I let that happen, because I was scared of what I would lose.

My wisdom now whispers, you were losing everything anyways. I would have continued to grow apart from my dear ones if we hadn’t had this conversation, and I would have just lost my Love, my family, and myself. It is amazing the severity of damage silence can do.

August 25– Coming out to my parents. I pressed send! AHHHHH.

Finally broke down to my mom today, about the whole situation. Sat in my car crying after church (WHICH WAS AMAZING… by the way. It felt like my whole soul was being cradled in a warm bath of hope that God and people and me can maybe not be at odds).

Tried to be sneaky and use neutral phrasing, but definitely said “I love her” and talked about our “relationship.” Finally my mom, after some well-meaning friendship advice (“You should try wooing her. Let her know you still care. Send her a card”) got quiet. She said, “you didn’t seem to be this upset about leaving your other friends in *Illinois after graduate school.””It’s different mom.” I said quietly. Come on mama. Put it together. Come on, please, just understand. 

I realized how much distance was between me and my parents– duplicity folks. It hurts. So… I sent them letter. I told them everything. An hour ago… haven’t heard back yet. Immediately called my friends, each saying how brave and proud of me they are. Including my sister. 

Pressing send– I felt this release. It is over, out there. I told them what I could. Lovely pushed me to this, and I am grateful. Either way– coming out to be with her, or coming out because it hurt so very much not to be with her. Something light and airy, I could have had perfectly for years without saying anything. But my heart in shambles or my heart wrapped in love, and barely touching why either way, made me realize that I would lose my family anyway, or at least what I loved about them– if I didn’t share this.

I am so nervous, I am so nervous. But why not just pile on the madness now– it is already a storm. Might as well just get my umbrella and wait for a tornado since I’m already soaked.