Tag Archives: relationships

My what a difference a few weeks can make

25 Sep

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.

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Coming Out- Part II of Aftermath

29 Aug

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

27 Aug

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.

25 Aug

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.

5 Steps to Self-Care

22 Aug

It has been a rough week (I am broken record!)

Last Friday, dangerous situation. Monday, Lovely said she wanted me out of her life. Monday night– literally spent all night in tears like some kind of very sad character that rocks back in forth in the corner. Depresso. I actually ended up calling the suicide hotline for an hour at 3 am after I couldn’t stop crying. It was a little surreal– but I was concerned with the combo of not wanting to exist and how extremely devastated I was with the idea of not making a future work with Lovely– I had started to make plans for things I wanted to talk to her about for a future together, but was waiting for her to get back from *France. HOWEVER, as we know, I was too late. Talking to the hotline was odd because of my interests, I very well could have been on the other side of the line. I didn’t want to worry or burden my loved ones with my concern and this neutrality towards stopping moving forward to live another 60 years. That sounds concerning, and would likely just cause worry and not be all that helpful.

Yesterday, I hadn’t been eating or drinking water for really the last few days, and ended up actually passing out. At the same time my dog was throwing up for 24 hours, I was actually suffering from heat exhaustion and extreme dehydration, and I also was getting sick.

How to Care For Yourself And Not Die 

Step 1– I have to eat and drink things, or it will not be good for me. Step one in healthy self-care!

Step 2– Focus on people who will be constant in your life. I think that is part of the struggle with Lovely, is that she knew me and I knew her– and though those are simple words, once you have that it is literally like tearing apart your heart if you lose it.

I talked to my sister today. I haven’t talked to her since Friday– and when I told her all the happenings of the last few days, she asked why I hadn’t called her! I still think of her as my little sister, but she has become a woman of such strength and grace. We are incredibly different, but she is a big reason why I have developed the courage to think about coming out to the rest of my (let’s start with immediate!) family. She loves me, and it is evident. She is kind. And most of all, we know each other and there is a genuineness to our relationship that only comes with baring your souls to one another– an incredibly vulnerable thing to do.

Part of my despair has been building this kind of relationship only to have left or leave these people in different parts of the world. Having such a relationship and it being time-limited is literally almost unbearable. This is why people get married, or find partners. Having a “Witness” to your life and witnessing another’s, and being loved anyhow is the only true cure to the epidemic of loneliness.

Lovely is/was one of those relationships– and in fact, the primary person I have loved for over a year. But as I said, she doesn’t want to have that intimate of a relationship any longer. She doesn’t see herself loving me ever again. I don’t know if I will recover romantically, but I know I will not live if I cannot at least make it through the day. Logically I recognize that. I saw that yesterday– I felt my lower back pain, the muscle cramps, the dizziness. I felt my mind getting fuzzy. It is almost like my mind and heart are separate beings– my heart saying: how can you eat? how can you drink? how can you move with this piece you chose to make yourself and have then had torn away by your own cowardice? and my mind saying: “GET UP BAMBI (or is it bambie?) GET UP. GO get yourself a fucking glass of water.”

Loving my sister, working on that relationship, working on being able to disclose each bit of who I am and knowing she will be a constant is part of what I need to remember. The silver linings of building these relationships throughout the years is that in addition to it being painful to be physically separated from those people is the fact that there are incredibly precious relationships strewn about that I intend to have my entire life. Aside: try not let your dog get poisoned the same night your ex-girlfriend tells you not to talk to her anymore.

Step 3– Distraction. Maybe not to the extent of what I did last week– but maybe I say yes to those dates. Just to go on dates. Meet new people. Throw myself into my future. Working out. Painting. Writing. Things that make me feel centered and myself.

Step 4– No sad things at all at all. I have a folder and a box where I’ve kept any notes from Lovely, cards she’s sent me, things that remind me of trips together. You know– I am not ruling out the possibility that someday, if it is meant to be, maybe she might choose to forgive me and maybe be together again. Therefore I keep this box. I’ve kept the birthday present box I collected for her of this and that she would love. A CD of songs I made her. A book she would love. Things for her dogs (matching!) A white and rose gold simple ring. Things I didn’t send her, and now probably can’t because of my promise to let her decide. But I HAVE NOT read the cards again. I have not. Because if I did, I would end up in the corner rocking place again. ALSO I banned sad music. God, I walked into a coffee shop on Tuesday and stupid Adele and her “Never mind I’ll find someone like youuuu-oouuuu” was playing, and the cute waitress was like WTF is wrong with you. She actually gave me my coffee on the house because I was mumbling something about allergies and like swiping the snot from my face with my hand. Hot.

Step 5– Have a plan. I don’t have a plan. I don’t want to love anyone ever again. But I do want to come out to my parents. I will never not acknowledge how deep and powerful my feelings are if I have them. I will never not consider a future even if it is hard to see what it looks like at the time.

I do have some plans like: try and climb a mountain without dying and learn to kayak and visit my former best friend in *El Salvador, and maybe raise a child someday, and maybe marry a woman and be okay with it, and always talk to old people because I know what it feels like to have lived too long and it is very tiring.

Proposals, Lovely, Blonde Girl, and Coming out letter

19 Aug

Oh autostraddle, you warm my heart!! http://www.autostraddle.com/this-is-a-love-letter-with-an-ending-just-for-you-178526/

You know, I’m still not sure what will happen with Lovely. I don’t know if she is back from *NYC, if she even really wants to have future conversation, or if it is better to go back to thinking future conversation is not on the table. Mmm. I ruminate. I try and reign in my heart and be objective. I try and prepare myself in case she doesn’t want to see me again.

Blonde Girl came over last night, and we shared a meal. She was nervous. It was weird because I wasn’t nervous at all– but I could tell she was. She wanted to stay longer, but I had to work and was tired and didn’t want her to. She wants me to go to a strip club with her– and I was kind of taken aback. I feel like that is not a thing that you invite someone to do. I have always wanted to go to a burlesque show– but that feels intimate.

I drafted a letter to my parents that I am going to send them after I tell my dad:

Dear Mom and Dad,

I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a long time. When I went to Argentina*, Curly Hair* and I just had an amazing connection. We found ourselves drawn to each other’s humor, passion, intelligence, and kindness. I fell in love with her. When I moved to South Dakota*, I met Lovely. I had never connected with anyone like I did her, and I fell in love with her. We dated for a long time, and I gave her up because I didn’t know if I could have both her and you.

I am attracted to both men and women.

It is terrifying to tell you this—but I want you to know how much I love you, and how much I want you to know who I really am, and how much I want to live authentically. I feel complete peace about it—it really is a non-issue for me, and my spirit is calm. You not knowing and wanting to tell you has been really difficult, but I didn’t want to cause you confusion or disappointment or fear. I honestly still have no idea how you will react, but I know it is a big piece of information. I wanted to see if this was specific to Curly Hair or specific to Lovely, but it is something that is a part of me and I want you to know all of me. I’m actually not really any different at all—I’m just me!

I love you so much, and I understand if you have questions or need time to process. I know it is scary and overwhelming and concerning and different and difficult and devastating a bit. But I am happy, I have vision, I feel good with God, I feel good with myself. I don’t know what it means for my future, I am just taking one day at a time. Know that for me to tell you this at all only displays how very highly I think of you and how very, very much I love you.

Smalltasks

Aside

Nostalgia, men, women, and hope

12 Aug

I am so prone to nostalgia, and it is a problem.

I cried on the phone to my sister today about how I wanted to come out to my parents, and talk to my mom about my heart-ache, and how unfair and mad I was that my relationships seemed invalid. I know that is awkward for her, because she has been dating her boyfriend for four years. I talked to my friend in Africa, Cassie*, about love and leaving and how tired I am of it. I am worried a bit, and not quite sure what to do. I am only 26, and I feel done. I’m over it. I don’t want to do it anymore, and that scares me. I am just so tired of investing in people and loving them and having them love me, and I feel like I just can’t do it anymore. It makes me feel numb– and back to the scary kinda wishing I just could stop existing type feelings. I don’t know what that means, and I tried to explain it to my sister– which I feel so bad for doing, because what a burden “Um… so I’m feeling like I just am tired and don’t really want to participate in ever baring my soul again/ ever loving anyone” right? She is 22 for goodness sakes.

I have felt this way traveling and experiencing and loving deeply and richly and I come to this conundrum: everything else is okay, in comparison. It works. It’s easier. It doesn’t hurt. But it pales in comparison really living– and thus the catch 22.

I always hate leaving, and I know that. I know it. But there are multiple issues at stake now. One is– I am afraid that in general my “bi-meter” (cute right?) is tipping more towards gals. I mostly am annoyed by men. Which sounds mean to categorize a whole sex as annoying– but men are so… simple. I don’t like being gawked at or hit on by men– and never really have. In fact, that is a super big turn off for me. When a guy has never talked to me in my life, and is suddenly all friendly– I’m like: it’s the boobs, right? It’s my particularly shiny hair. I get weird. The times I have fallen for guys is when they are super nerdy about their weird passions– THAT I like. Or like, when he heard me speak about mine, and then admires that passion. UNFORTUNATELY, I have found that at first, for guys, it is my clothes, hair, body that they like. Again not like in a mannnn I’m gorgeous way, but more like, I can dress this body if I want to. I don’t like it. I think all they want is what this body could do for them, and that makes me resentful. For not *seeing* me. Is that weird? It ISN’T insecurity because to be frank I could care less. It’s more like— disgust I guess that all they want is how I look and that is far from anything I really am. It makes me feel like the encounter is not genuine.

But women…. women want to know who I am. Why I’m here. Who I’ve loved, why, and what I want. So I have had this nibbling uncomfortable realization that I just am more comfortable (at least initially) with women. Which coupled with afore mentioned frustration with not being really known by my family, recent independence due to completing school stuff and finding job, and just the general openness and accepting nature of Denver— has made me reconsider what I want and what I deserve. I never thought I could justify coming out to my family because of how very much I love them, and how very much they would struggle with how I see love and what it can be. There are also just SO many gay/bi women here like EVERYWHERE and a lot of them seem like super strong amazing people who are actually interesting and not boring. I think that’s it… guys just seem boring sometimes. And not “fast processors.”

I thought I was trapped and just would never be able to tell them— but my life is mine, and I beginning to think NOT telling them is more toxic to me than I would have liked to compartmentalize. And then…. going down the road of telling them… it brings up a WHOLE BUNCH of stuff that I kind of thought was off limits and that I would never get to have. And then I get excited, like, maybe I can consider these things and still be me and marry all the parts of my life and maybe my family would still love me. But I feel like those thoughts just torture me more– so I don’t know if they are a good or a bad thing.

And in comparison to that, I suppose my nostalgia and heartache and desperate attempt at apathy are better than hoping for something. But there is this sneaking maybe, which hurts oh it hurts, because even a week later I feel more mine here.