Sexual Autonomy / Sexual Freedom

I really can't believe I waited until today to check out Sinclair's post about Sexual Autonomy and Sexual Freedom. My answer is was short. Until I started writing.

For me, Sexual Autonomy means having age-appropriate access to the wealth of information that exists about different types of relationship styles, different sexual activities, fetishes, and interests, as well as safer sex practices and contraception. I think this will only happen when we live in an environment that encourages open communication, mutual respect, and an understanding of the important role that sexuality plays in every person's life. I think that's what sexual freedom is, too. Perhaps autonomy means that technically, we all have a choice in what type of sexual life we engage, whereas freedom means that people in your life won't harass you for your choices... even if they might be the "wrong" choice. We can all screw up or bless our own lives equally!

I don't think any one moment in time created sexual freedom in my life. If I had to pinpoint a time when I became free, I would probably choose the day that I drove back to my hometown after leaving a religious training school a day's drive north of here. It wasn't any one sexual act, but it was the fact that I was disregarding other people's rules, and making them up for myself. Each day in the journey to sexual freedom, I loved myself and knew myself a little bit more. After years of suppressing and ignoring my sexual being, finally, enough was enough and I wanted to be in control. It wasn't just my sexuality that got freed up, it was the rest of me as well! I went back to college to get the degree I knew that I wanted (Women's Studies / Feminism), I took my stuff out of storage and found my own place to live, and about a year later, I met Dana. I wasn't expecting to like her as much as I did, but she pretty much blasted all of my "preconceived notions" out of the water. Our family histories are so similar, and we have made it our number one priority to talk about anything and everything as soon as it comes up, so that we don't hold onto confusion and anger. The best part is that it's not "too good to be true" - our relationship together has snags in all the right places, so that we build each other up instead of tearing down the one we love.

For the longest time we lived in a state of constant fear. "What if we break up?" and "If we're still together by that time, then we'll..." But that's no way to live. So for now, we're together indefinitely - which means that there is no end foreseeable... until further notice. And I'm very happy with that.

I know this post was meant to be about sexual freedom, but that is what being with Dana means to me. She means having all my sexual needs met, and being allowed to ask for what I want, and being allowed to spread my love around. Being with Dana means getting to explore new things, talking about our likes and dislikes openly and honestly. It means me being able to experience sacred sexuality gatherings, and to talk to her about my girl crushes (and precisely the same for her as well!)

It's good stuff, I tell you what. I found a letter last night that she wrote to me back in July. She said, "You are the perfect seasoning to my very hearty broth!" Now if that doesn't make you laugh freely then you need to get your heart checked.

Let's be free to be, you and me, shall we?

A brief update

My seasonal part time job wound up working me full time for nearly three weeks! Great for the money, but bad for writing and stuff. Sorry 'bout that. I gatta say, the after Christmas sales have been outrageous. I got a 5 foot Christmas tree for $17 so next year we will have a proper tree. This year Dana made a tree out of construction paper, beer caps, and little pompoms. It was darling, there are pictures, but it was not meant to weather the years unfortunately.

Monday afternoon we adopted a cat. His name is Jacques Cousteau. Don't blame me, Dana named him after our third favorite song, "Foux du Fa Fa". We had friends over for the last night of Hannukkah and as we sat on and politely requested noms, which we gladly provided to him. You should have heard the happy noise he made! It sounded like "yum, yum, yum, yum, yum!" Poor guy was so hungry. It took us awhile to figure out his sex, but after our friends left, I noticed his furry little balls, teehee!

I wanted to take him to the vet, and I was perfectly content to leave him outside until such time as I could take him to the vet. Dana used to be a pet bather, though, so she decided that we should take him right away. She brought him inside Monday afternoon, clipped his nails and gave him a bath. Later on we brought home a collar for him and flea treatment for all the animals. Tuesday I took him to the vet, who confirmed that he had no microchip and said, "I think he has adopted you!" And so he has.

It's hard to really name my Flight of the Conchords favorites, though. I mean. There's Business Time which has become an inside joke among all my beloved. And the first I ever heard was Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros ... totally hilarious. I'd say All the Ladies in the World is among the top five, as well... "lady many lady!" Speaking of beautiful girls, another fave is The Most Beautiful Girl in the Room... is that a compliment?? My personal all time favorite has got to be Inner City Pressure!


Mom came to visit for a couple of weeks, but it was a whirlwind trip for her because she was packing up my grandmother's house with her the whole time because she found a buyer. Owning two houses was too much for her (totally understandable, don't you think?) So she'll be getting a motorhome for my uncle's backyard for times when she is in this area, and she's going to be adding on to her mountain home. Grandma's a tough gal though, so they got everything finished! Dana got to meet my beloved dachshund, our childhood pet. A very sweet thing. And mom acknowledged to me that she knows I'm with Dana, and that I live with her and everything. She's not happy about it, but we've decided that if we keep everything on a very superficial level when it comes to Dana, that mom doesn't mind talking about her. She made the hominy casserole that I brought to Christmas dinner and everyone loved it - mom made a joke about D being able to cook better than I can and I can see that she's not going to spend her life crying over me. That's a good thing.

Grandma's giving us her kitchen table, a couch, and a chair - how awesome is that? We're getting ever so close to the end of Dana's lease and I'm a little nervous, but excited too. The homes in the area have decreased quite a bit in the last two months - I've found several 3BR homes renting for $800 monthly which is fantastic, so I'm hoping to snag one asap and get the hell outta this apartment complex, and out of apartment life... hopefully forever! Of course there are lots of costs involved and I'm not going to be working much... there's so much up in the air, it's crazy!

Sorry for the long rambling update. And the lack of sex. We've been so busy, tired, menstruating and having yeast infections from antibiotics because of swollen tonsils that we haven't had any wild and crazy sex. Except for that threesome... I've still forgotten to tell you about that! I'll save it for another night.

One final note, after grocery shopping, I made cream cheese cracker dip with pepper n onion relish, corn bread pudding, and an oatmeal pear crisp. Love it!

Goodnight darlings!

as butch as a hunk of machinery!

I just finished watching "Before Stonewall" on netflix (you can watch it streaming online if you have a subscription at any level) and I do believe that I met myself in 50 years. "Lisa Ben" or Edith Eyde. My hero. She sings with a spanish guitar, and parodied this song

The Girl That I Marry
The girl that I marry will have to be
as soft and as pink as a nursery.
The girl that I call my own
will wear satins and laces and smell of cologne.
Her nails will be polished and in her hair
she'll wear a gardenia and I'll be there
'Stead of flittin' I'll be sittin' next to her
and she'll purr like a kitten.
A doll I can carry the girl that I marry must be.

But instead -- and I must tell you that I stopped the movie and went back so I could write it down -- she sang:

The Girl That I Marry
The girl that I marry will probably be
as butch as a hunk of machinery.
The girl I idolize ... will wear slacks with flat fronts*,
tailored shirts and bow ties
She'll walk with a swagger and wear short hair
And keep me entranced with her tomboy air
Instead of cruisin I'll be using
Her shoulder to lean on while snoozin
A faint hearted fairy, the girl I marry won't be!

clearly, an ode to butches. do you see how she's my hero? dana watched her singing so sweetly and said, "honey it's you!" we had a good laugh about it.

*flat fronts? I'm not sure about that, I had some trouble discernign that line.

Apparently I'm also channeling bell hooks because as I was introducing myself to my class (Literature by Women of Color in the Diaspora), my professor - the distinguished Dr. Gary Lemons, author of "Black. Male. Outsider" - said that as he was watching me speak, watching this white woman speak, he felt as though he was listening to bell hooks. She was actually his dissertation adviser as a Ph.D. student at (i think) NYU.

[edit] Originally I had written that it was ms Audre Lorde, but HussyRed is right in the comments, I had forgotten she passed away when I was just a wee lass. bell hooks will be visiting, though, and I'll be interested to see the comparison.

guess what!

I ______________________________, certify that I, and ______________________________ became domestic partners on ______________, and we:

1. have an intimate, committed relationship of mutual caring, and
2. currently share the same regular and permanent residence, and
3. are jointly responsible for "basic living expenses, as defined below, and
4. are not legally married, and
5. are each eighteen (18) years of age or older, and
6. are not related by blood closer than would bar marriage in the state of residence, and
7. were mentally competent to consent to contract when our domestic partnership began, and
8. are each other's sole domestic partner and are responsible for each other's common welfare and intend to remain so indefinitely.

"Basic living expenses" means the cost of basic food, shelter and any other expenses of a Domestic Partner which are paid at least in part by a program or benefit for which the partner qualified because of the Domestic Partnership. The individuals need not contribute equally or jointly to the cost of these expenses as long as they agree that both are responsible for the cost.




ya know, honestly i think that this is the only type of union that is appropriate for me. or for anyone else, but i'll make the rest of y'all make that decision. the only stipulation that it makes is that i can't have another domestic partnership until six months after the last one ended. that's reasonable. that's a measure of personal responsibility. if you're hopping from partner to partner, getting benefits for all, you're causing beaurocratic paperwork (wastin' trees!) and kinda cheating the system and cheating yourself. anyway. i think it's pretty legit now, folks. we do share bills, groceries, living space and mutual caring - if i meet all the requirements, why not do it? oh, one final note:

indefinite: without limit; forever, or until further notice; not definite; vague or unclear; undecided or uncertain.

more than you think, less than you think.

I had the pleasure of coming out to an old friend last night. It has been several months since we talked, so she hasn't heard a thing about me having a girlfriend, or moving, or anything. We went to youth group together, and we attended the same high school (although I graduated 2 years earlier than she). But you know I am constantly amazed at the love and acceptance that I have encountered from these women who grew up with me, who knew I "struggled". I'm telling that now that I do not struggle, but rather embrace and dream and see. And they're taking me as I am, and going to good, warm places with me. They're not abandoning me, or calling me crazed.

I had always been a truth seeker. My search brought me to the discovery that more of what we think are lies are actually true. And the reverse - much of we take to be the truth is a lie.

Find your truths, kids.

Happy Freaking Pride!

Happy Freaking Pride, y'all!

Dana and I got up at an ungodly hour (9 a.m.) to drive across the bridge to the neighboring city where our metro area PRIDE is held. I'm a notorious pen stealer, especially when they're being offered for free (think, dentist, doctor, work, etc.) so we grabbed a healthy stack of them. Hmmm. Fresh pens! We also visited a wine tasting booth, listened to a gal named Julie Schurr (t-shirt, autograph, album, picture for Dana) and walked around simultaneously window shopping and trying to keep me away from the ATM.

Fun times, let me tell you! We're off to dinner at a Turkish restaurant downtown, fighting off a thunderstorm.

P.S. Dana was drooling over the cute little babies and I was melting over sexy "older" lesbians. Omg. The dyke uniform. It's the standard for a reason. I'm melting again just thinking about it!

P.P.S. We also bumped into Marian a couple times. Girl's made some progress but she's still chasing around girls who aren't interested in her. Terribly tragic.

Day of Silence

Today is the Day of Silence, a day when students don’t speak in order to address issues of harassment and bullying in schools. It is not neccessarily specific to the protection of LGBT students, except that of course LGBT and gender variant students tend to be the target of most of the harassment.

From NCTE:

At NCTE, we believe passionately in the rights of all children and young people to go to school and be free from bullying and harassment. Learning needs to take place in an environment where children are safe — physically as well as emotionally — and can express their identities as they grow and develop. Transgender children and teens deserve these rights as much as every other student in our schools.

This year’s Day of Silence is dedicated to Lawrence King.

More info at link in the sidebar, and see also: en|Gender

i always cry at weddings but not because they are sweet

This afternoon one of my spiritual brothers is getting married to a girl that he's crazy in love with. I want to go, I truly want to go, to support my brother and to express to him my joy that he has found someone with whom he can share the struggles and triumphs of life. But I really can't.

I can't because I'll have to answer to probably 50 people about where my career in world missions went. They're going to wonder where spreading the "gospel of peace" went. It went back into my mouth after I had said it, down my throat and deep into my heart where I knew that the gospel of peace that brought salvation to hungry souls comes from the love that we harbor for ourselves and others.

Even the person on whom I had the most influence on during my globe-trotting spells didn't "receive christ" necessarily. What she received was the gift of knowing that she was valuable. I showered her with gifts and I listened to her concerns and genuinely tried to understand where she was coming from. When I left her, she knew that someone had loved her, if only for a moment, someone had loved her enough to turn the mirror of her self-acceptance upright, where some heart-shaking typhoon had blown it down. I showed herself to her again in a different light, hoping to bring her back to the origin of her salvation.

I think I did.

But I can't bear the thought of going to this wedding in exactly 1 hour. I'm going to feel so incredibly anxious. I'm going to want to tell them all the good news - that I have a beautiful girlfriend who appreciates me, a sometimes-handsome girl who knows how to bring me back to the origin of my salvation. I already want to, but my respect for my mother holds me back. Her fragile understanding of my way of life keeps her from telling our spiritual family. I'm not telling these people outright because she is still holding on to the hope that maybe it really is just a "phase" (yeah - a 10 year phase? right.) or maybe I'm really just bisexual and one day I'll meet a really nice boy... And you know what, I could just say "fuck you all, I'm doing my own thing" but that's not my style. I'd rather people know where I'm coming from, to see things from my heart's perspective rather than being flippant aout the ways in which I come out to people. My mother has done nothing but love me from the bottom of her heart. She has deserved the respect that I give her, and so while it may look like an easy out - just show up looking like a big dyke and talk nothing but queer politics for the entire wedding reception! - that's not how I am going to handle things, and it's not just because I'm nervous abotu saying it. I'm concerned about saying it the right way.

In the meantime, I plan to talk recipes with my chefly girlfriend and enjoy the meals that I am scheming up for her. Last night it was spaghetti - i sauteed the chicken, onions, garlic, mushrooms and fresh basil and oregano myself - with toast and pesto, and a dessert of chocolate mini cakes, strawberries sauteed in wine and brown sugar, and whip. Tonight we're looking at chicken spring rolls, jasmine rice and beef stir fry, and then tomorrow night I might do Mexican. Because my beautiful girlfriend, a graduate of Johnson and Wales University, deserves good food cooked at home, with portions that swell with my love for her.

think before you speak

Discovered at Awakenings:


I'm sorry, do you understand why. WHY there is more suicide, disease, depression?

Because of you.

I should be surprised. I should be completely appalled, caught off guard. But I'm not. Because this is the type of shit I have allowed myself to absorb for years. Fall of '08 is going to be 10 years since I came out to myself - since I truly recognized my romantic affection for female people. But. This month is only the first year mark of actually starting to come out. A lot of people don't know, still. Tons. But I'm telling them easily, quietly, one by one, that I deserve their respect regardless of who or what I am. Jesus never said one fucking word about homosexuality, because that wasn't the point, or if he did, the writers of the bible didn't consider it important enough to include. The point was purity of intention, purity of heart. Jesus emphasized humility (serving others, having a right self-concept, being a vessel of peace - humility does not equal self loathing). He stressed the importance of loving others, giving of what you have, and being helpful. He wanted us to care for the needy, to spend our money wisely, and to live in peace with others. Sexuality was never the point. Never.

But no. This is normal Christian rhetoric. It's not the truth, but it is displayed as truth. And out of fear, people believe it. For fear of punishment people learn to believe lies.

What lies are you believing? Has someone lied to you about your body? Do you downplay your talents and highlight your faults? Has anyone told you that you're worthless?

As a rule, I don't give readers homework. But will you take some time to ask yourself what lies you are believing about yourself? Get rid of them. Chuck them like old soles. This type of thing is in my top-ten list of things I hate the most. Malicious lies like that might be #1, and misunderstandings is probably #2.

beloved ones

I have not commented on the recent killings of queer people in the last few weeks, but allow me to introduce to you someone who has done so. She's a very tender heart, very loving and special. She is quite a treasure. Ellen!



Yeah. What she said. Because hate is where evil originates.

relief

I was going to write about the date from last night, about what happened after my last shot of goldschlager, about watching some kind of "what not to wear" - lingerie edition until we couldn't take it anymore. About learning to give back - she let me touch her, and called me a pro.

Instead, I'm going to write about my last break before the end of my shift tonight. I had sent T a text message telling her about the roommate that I found, and the message I got back said, "so does that mean you're unable/unwilling to room with my friend?" Obviously we were miscommunicating because I was leaving things out of the story, so I knew I had to tell her tonight. It could not wait, because telling her half truths was inconsiderate to her and I could tell she was irritated.

I hung up with my last customer and grabbed my phone, charging directly to the other side of the building where I could talk to her alone.

"I need to talk to you"
"ok"
"Are you somewhere quiet?"
"quiet as it's gonna be"
"are you by yourself?"
"yeah"
"ok"

My heart was already in my throat, pounding fast and threatening to choke me. I started by telling her long I've been working up my courage. I told her how every single time I've seen her since I came back from bible school, I've wanted to tell her and I couldn't. "Look. Um. I'm a 15 minute break, so we might have to finish this conversation later." I had to get it off my chest. "The reason I came back from bible school last year is because I'm a lesbian and I'm not going to change." I talked most of the time, trying to explain everything, going over the past year's worth of progress with her. "I know you love me, I know, and I know we're going to disagree but I had to tell you." I told her how I haven't felt so emotionally and psychologically well in my entire life and how I simply feel whole. I said, "you know I don't do --anything-- flippantly and it took me a long time to get to this point." I was crying now, trying not to, trying to take big deep breaths to keep from sobbing.

"I'm glad you felt like you could talk to me about this, and I'm sorry if you felt afraid to talk to me about it before. I love you and I'm not going to look at you any differently, now I just know more about you."

It makes sense to her now, that it's not about her friend being a good roommate or not, it's about our interpretations of faith being too too different. She gets it, and now I don't have to sound like I'm making excuses. We disagree on the morality of the issue, obviously we disagree, but at least now the lines of communication are open.

See how my heart prepared me for the conversation tonight? Instead of writing about more sex with strangers, I wrote about my need to talk to her. Tonight I seized bravery with all the strength I had. It's not how I wanted it to happen, or when, or why, but sometimes being unprepared is the best preparation for change. It's over, and I'm still in one piece.

reconcile

My best friend, T, and I have been together now for 11 years, this past Fall. We grew into women together. We met in jr. high and were virtually inseparable - in spirit, although we could not always be close physically - throughout high school. We have not always been as emotionally intimate as we once were, as in year 8 when you did not see one without the other. We went to her church together, we went to my church together, we participated in campus religious groups together - the works. The only thing that I have really ever kept from her has been my journey to accept myself as a lesbian. We've talked about it every few years, briefly. I think I talked to her about it when I left my fine arts high school, while I was in search of salvation from the Gay. We talked about it again in early 2005 as I was preparing to go to start bible school. But since then? nada.

Lately I've been looking for a roommate and she has tried to be so very helpful, suggesting friends of hers. But the problem is that all of her friends are also religious. They live 6-to-a-house in the inner city as activism, to put themselves purposefully where no one wants to be, to seek change. And all of that is good. But their ministry and their faith is quite adamantly exclusive of homosexual relationships. According to their interpretation of the Book, no means no. Obviously my lifestyle doesn't allow me much room to hide my grand affairs with the (now various) women who have shared a "bountiful beauty" with me lately. None of these potential roommates would be good for me.

But how do I tell this to my best friend, when all along I have been leading people to believe that it is something mutable, that I'm "working on it." She is one of those people who knew of my affection for women, but it was under the condition that I would not act on my desires. According to the Christian ideologies, the desire itself is not the problem, it is the actions that cause you to sin. There's that word, such a taboo. Sin.

I have not altogether abandoned my faith in God, how can I, when it is so integral to who I am as a person? To forget my Christian upbringing would be a mistake because it has brought me tremendous peace. While my queerness is not mutable, my Christian beliefs are. Before I even decided to come out, I researched different interpretations of the Book, and I saw that there is more than one lens. To put it another way, I simply had to turn the kaleidescope to one side and the picture changed. The principles of Love and Purity remained fixed, but the definitions and the examples shifted. I saw myself as acceptable.

Not everyone can stand or understand the idea of turning the kaleidescope - that's the problem. In the early days, Christians talked about, debated, asked questions. Now, we simply listen to pastors and ministers and believe what they say without looking into it ourselves. In the early days of Islam there was the concept of ijtihad - a practice of reasoning, of dissent and debate. Well that free thinking got shut down by the powers that were when something caused a stir and it's been that way ever since - blind belief, without question authority.

Perhaps the most important thing that I have been able to implement in my life, that shapes the way I interact with Christians, is that God speaks to me. God speaks to us. Ask Him, and he will speak to you. What is more true? What God said to someone else, or what God says to you? God says to me - "you're my beloved, before I do anything else with you, I love you." That is reassurance enough for me to believe that that if I start veering off "the path of righteousness" (the way of love, integrity, and persistent pursuit of truth) then He will steer me in the right direction (and I will allow Him to do so). It is assurance of safety.

God loves persistently, doggedly, unwaveringly. And that is the purpose of His people, to love without expectations, to love when you are provoked to hatred. It's been a year now since I came out to my mother, and my goal has been this:

to build a deep, deep well of love for myself, so that I can then draw my bucket up from the darkness to quench the thirst for love in other people. So that I can water thirsty grounds where few have loved.

I'm getting there, I think. I've allowed myself to make choices, and I've brought so much love and understanding to myself and I think I'm finally getting to the point where I can give it all away. But I don't think T will understand. She'll love me, she will, but she'll disagree with my decision, she will see me in sin and shadow. Not because she is not open minded, and not because she does not love, but because we now believe differently, while we used to believe similarly. I'm going to have to talk to her soon, because I think I found a roommate. So. here goes nothing.

Giving Thanks

My mother doesn't like to talk about the fact that I am gay. She has known of my fondness for the company of women almost as long as I have known, but March was the first time that I told her I had decided not to comply with the therapies that I had willingly been attending to. I will not attempt to explain why I ever agreed to such things because as much as I write about it, those decisions will never make sense to me or anyone else. Just thinking about it makes me wonder if I'm not a little bit lopsided. Recently I told her about a friend of mine, Kay, whose family was actually thinking about not inviting her to Thanksgiving - it seemed to me that they thought perhaps if they didn't mention it, then it would slip her mind altogether.

The grandmother finally had the sense of mind to see that was ridiculous and she called to try to reason with my friend. She said that if she was going to come to Thanksgiving, she mustn't touch her partner while they are there because it would upset the ONE person who had a problem with her being gay. Kay's family has survived without the company of men - from her grandmother all the way down, most of them divorced out of brief marriages. Quite the happy lot. Except for the minister. One of them has managed to hang on to a conservative Christian man who honestly doesn't seem to fit into the whole lot of them. And because of ONE MAN who has a problem with it, they'll probably have to sit on opposite couches and pretend they don't actually sleep in the same bed almost all of the time. I'm fucking tired of the silence.

But getting back to mommy dear. I told her the story and she told me that my partner will never be allowed to holidays with her family. She wants to pretend that it's not real. I'm pretty sure that she never wants to meet my partner, never wants to know how happy I am. She's much happier pretending that I'm just her daughter who's too focused on her studies, her career, her travel, her ministry to be tied down to any man.

She's been very brave, for a woman like her. We've only talked about me being gay twice since the first time in February when I told her I am happy just the way I am. Of course, she cried and I asked her if she wanted to hang up and talk to me another time, and she said yes, so I told her that I loved her and she said she loved me too and we said goodbye. The second time was when I told her about the fiasco at my bible school where a former counselor of mine outed me to five people. Fabulous! She was outraged, but not because someone betrayed my confidence, but because they betrayed her confidence. The less people who know about her daughter's queerness, the better. And finally, this time, telling her about Kay's Thanksgiving ordeal, when she said, "It's not that I don't love you..." I finished her sentence, "It's that you love me." --- Implying that she loves me, and refuses to love my partners. What happens when I get married? What happens when I'm birthing a baby. She wanted to be there for all of these things. Until I was gay.

So. Here I am. A young woman in her twenties, who grew up with three mothers, and numerous spiritual aunts who have supported me and fostered an environment of safety for my spiritual growth. Until I gave up the fight to go straight. I'm losing my mothers, I'm losing my aunts and the spiritual sisters I grew up with. I guess I would not have lost them if I had not excluded them, but I'm fairly certain that I will be able to enjoy their guidance a little while longer if I do not include them in this part of my life.

I guess today, in writing this, I'm realizing that I need to find new mothers and new aunts who will hold my hand. I need to find them soon, so that when it comes to this - when it comes to building a family that will be mine when I grow up, I will have mothers and aunts to lean on. And sisters to gab with. And sisters to cry with.



I lay in bed last night writing letters to some people who have been meaningful to me. It feels good to tell people how thankful I am to have (or to have had) them in my life, even if only for a fleeting moment. I have volumes more to write, here. I still have not written about the difference between love and 'in love' and how that relates to sex. I have not written about the health issues that I have been neglecting. I have not written about my growing desire to join the MCC, while I am so reluctant to leave the fellowship I have associated myself with for... two full years now. (wow, I hadn't realized it. Thanksgiving Sunday, two years ago, I shared part of my story.) I have not written about how anxious I am that the new year is coming up. It has now been one year since I left bible school, as of today. That makes me nervous. I feel like I have not accomplished much.

What have I accomplished? If those of you who have known me awhile would pipe up and remind me, I think that would be helpful. I think it's easier for other people to see the ways that we have changed, when we ourselves lack perspective.

Everybody's doing it

My paternal grandmother and her soon-to-be sister-in-law were fast friends when they had their "coming out". The were some of the last young women in the 30's and 40's to have a proper debut, and what lovely debutantes they were in their frilly white gowns. At what must have been my own debut, my high school graduation party, I wore a summer dress with blue flowers and bright blue flip flops.

When I got home to do my blog quick-catch-up from google reader I noticed a theme of "coming out" issues, so I thought I'd let one out of the bag that just kinda happened tonight. You see, I get one-on-one time with my team-lead for half an hour once a week. Normally we review my progress month to date, stats, quality, the business side because really that's what our meetings are for. But tonight we went over my bonus for about 2 minutes and then spent the rest of the time just talking about life and stuff. We don't get a lot of time to do that and we were both super stressed out and on our periods and cranky. So somehow we got on the top of the halloween party I'm attending tomorrow, and the party I attended last weekend and she asked me what my costume was.

So this is my first "real" job and I'm not really sure how much information I can give to people and still keep it "HR appropriate". And I don't really know how much I want to share about my personal life with people at work. After a little bit of probing to find out if she would be "safe", I decided to just tell her about my corset and my fishnet tights and all. And my plan to wear my work clothes so that I would be "forcefully disrobed" upon arrival. She just laughed and said I was funny. And she offered me a gracious moment of recognition, too - Boss said I seem to party a lot and I said "no, not that often, they haven't taken me out to the [aforementioned] gay dive bar [where the kiss story happened] in quite awhile." She said "oh yeah, [hot stud supervisor in neighboring work-group] said she was going to take me there but I didn't really know if I would belong there......." Just by the subtle recognition she validated my company's commitment to diversity and assured me that being a lesbian in her work-group is fine by her. I appreciate that.

So now, she knows I'm a bit on the naughty side (away from work, anyway) and now I know she knows I'm a lesbian and that it's all good. yey!

it's up to you

If you want me, come and get me.
But baby you've got a lot of shit
blocking your path to my heart.

I can coach you from this side
of the wardrobe door, but I can't
come in there and drag you out.

You must know what you want,
it is there for the taking, see?
But it will not just come to you.

So pick up your bow and arrows, girl.
Take down whatever is blocking your path
Be the brazen angel you've always been

I will be here watching your figure,
Praying God's good graces down on you.
And I will be here when you will conquer.

found OUT

Hah! Work today was so entertaining.

First, I told my cubicle-neighbor Cay that I had been at "body image" workshop over the weekend - and she said, "so, was it one of those things where you sit in a circle nude...? i saw a preogram on tv once..." I winked at her. Cay is probably in her 50's, top heavy like me and I can always hear the subtle sarcasm in her voice when she's talking to customers and it cracks me up. We had a disjointed conversation about how scary it must be and how brave I must have been to be able to do something like that. She said she could never do that. I beg to differ.

Secondly, since it was COD I decided to take the opportunity to come out to a former cubicle-neighbor (we've been playing musical cubicles lately). Dee's going through a divorce and when she told her 17 year old daughter that they were going to moving out of their house, the daughter said, "So we're really moving this time? Ugh, mom why couldn't you have been gay? Then you wouldn't have to deal with all that!" Of course we agreed that this can happen to anyone, but I said, "so... speaking of which, it's National Coming Out Day!" --- "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"I said of course I am!"
"Oh, I kinda figured. I'm bisexual, myself"

So, that's the first person in this particular work-group that I've told. Not that I was trying to keep it hidden, but it was never relevant to conversation, and I thought it would be awkward to just be like, yep, I'm gay, hope ya don't mind, folks! And omg the assistant manager in the pod next to ours is such a stud, wow, I find myself always prancing by the entrance to their part of the building hoping to catch a glimpse. ;)

Aside: I also had a terribly uncomfortable dream in which a former female instructor at my bible school was trying to hook me up with a boy. He had already made one gesture in my direction that I was completely oblivious to until she pointed it out to me. I didn't seem to have any choice in the matter as he had already planned out his second wooing attempt. I felt like calling her and saying, look, I had this dream, and guess what today is. No, I don't like boys, I've told you before and I'll tell you again, no, no and most likely never!

My new flogger is hanging from the handle of my closet door, teasing me. It's quite soft and squishy and I suspect that it's not going to hurt much. Maybe that'll be good for working with people I don't know very well. Unless they knock my upside the head with the handle or something... yikes

i'm leaving in the morning, so let's not be shy

I got about a mile down the road after leaving work today and I started laughing out of the blue. And then I started crying. It was one of those moments where I felt the weight of the entire world lift off my chest and fly out the window onto the asphalt.

I was crying because it felt like God put his warm hands around my heart and loved it back into one piece. I was talking to him, telling him how I've felt so free, so cherished since I came out. I couldn't explain to him the vastness of his love and the completeness of the freedom I've felt. I told him. No one else can offer a freedom like this... My whole coming out process has been a very spiritual time for me. It feels very intense, yet very simple.

Simply, God loves me, and I feel it. Other people love me too, even people who don't agree with my decision, they are treating me the same and loving me the same. It's not easy. And there've been some times where people outed me when they didn't have permission. Some of these same people who love me. But guess what? The world has not ended. My life is not over. I'm freer than I've ever been before. And in 3 hours I'm going to be at the airport awaiting a flight to NYC to explore more of the faces of my out self.

I cried for five minutes feeling so overwhelmed by freedom. The waiting is over. I'm really exhausted and I'm not going to sleep again til probably after midnight. But it's worth it.

Adventure girl... has adventures!

oh, fuck

oh. my. god.
miss avarice. has been kissed.
like really kissed.
like.
she had her tongue in my mouth,
and when she took it out

i wanted it back.


this was after she took my shirt off. at the bar. everyone else chickened out. i asked Ica to do it, and she just giggled and said she couldn't. Mel and Cin didn't want to interfere. so Ica, meddlesome Cancer. says to Diane.

Wait first let me describe Diane to you. about my height. butch. brown hair. slim but not tiny. i think she's a bit older than me? butch hands. *ughm* ("my nails are short because I work in construction." "Riiight... just like my nails are short because I'm a musician!") She's a little bit taken. She's very handsome in a striped polo.

So Ica said to Diane, "Avarice has a question for you" and in my head I'm having an attack of shyness. ahh shit, now I have to say it to a stranger!

"Ica won't take my shirt off. Will you?"
"eh? that's it? - you pussies won't take off her shirt?"

She reached for the hem of my shirt.

"Just the top one! I have another underneath!" I explained. Grinning. Shy
"I know baby, I know"

She pulled the black stretch-knit up, up to my shoulders, up over my head, taking expert precaution not to get my head stuck. She handed me my shirt back and I thanked her. She was topping. I was delighted. Still grinning like a fool, I sat back down at the table.

Sometime not long after that Ica dragged Diane away from the group (which is always a sure sign of gossip). She told her how I was kinda flipping out about my New York trip. How I didn't want to make a fool of myself by not knowing how to kiss, and blah blah blah. Long story short, she told Diane that she should kiss me. Protests about a girlfriend met a rebuttal about how "teaching" is different than making out. Uhm. I don't think that's true. But. Let's not get into the technicalities, mkay?

By this time my nose was going numb from one very stiff cosmo and one very tall shot of Goldschlager. Ica said,

"Diane's going to teach you how to kiss"
"Oh, thank God"

Except then, I got shy again and they had to lead me by the hand over to where she was talking to a gay boy at the bar. She put her arm around my shoulder and said, "where do you want to go?" I shrugged. She brought me back over to my bar stool and I sat down. "You've never kissed anyone before? Really?" Still shy, I shook my head "no". She drew her hands up to touch my face, gentle, holding the back of my head, fingers nestled in my hair. She touched her nose to mine. I think I almost lost it right there. She kissed me. Pulling on my lower lip... "How do I know I'm doing it right?"

"You are doing it right" She kissed me more and I couldn't contain a moan that had been welling up. She pushed her tongue past my nervous lips. This is the part that was new to me. "open up, sweetie." I did. I wanted it. I savored the texture of her tongue. It was rough and smooth at the same time. I was lost in want but she pulled back smiling and took the chair next to me. "I would kiss you more, but I feel kinda guilty..."

"There are no butches who are into femmes around here, they all just want each other!" (ok don't freak out, i love two butches together, i just want one for myself!) "Not me, here lemme show you my girlfriend. Femmes are my favorite." She showed me a picture...

"You are so shy! They told me that you weren't..." Oh Jesus, my reputation preceded me. "I'm only shy around new people. But once I get to know you..."

"You know I don't kiss just anybody."

I danced for her a little bit. She pulled on my pony tail. She ran her butch fingers up my back, over my shoulders and down my arms. I wanted her hands to be everywhere.

"So... do you ever uh... share?" she chuckled. "Oh no, I get in big, big trouble for talking to other girls" I grinned and leaned toward her ear.

"I like trouble."

slacks

You were dressed up so handsome
for dinner the other day.
Walking along the sidewalk and
holding your hand made
(makes) me feel visible
and validated.

If I could, I would always hold your hand.
You in general. You with short locks
clipped so close to your ears, your neck skin.
You in the pinstripes, in the Dapper Dan getup.
You with hands so like mine. Hands so unlike mine...

"There are a lot of people here... a lot of straight people."
"Yeah I think we pretty much make up the queer contingent."
"Wanna make 'em uncomfortable?"

more thoughts on becoming femme

I think for me the rejection of my femininity has been somewhat out of fear, for my own protection. I knew that if I obscured my feminine figure I could lower the chances of unwanted attention from jerks. A fire always rises up in my belly, burning for justice, when some man thought I would appreciate his lewd comments. Not even that. It's that (maybe even unconsciously) they use verbal abuse to subdue me. To exert power over me. Over Us. To raise his own self esteem by lowering mine. As if the shape of my body determines my value.

So. It's been kind of. Interesting to re-invent my femininity in ways that are comfortable for me. You know. I'm not so sure I like the high heels thing. Especially with my bad knees and back issues. And rather than dresses and lace all the time. I absolutely love the look of very snazzy business attire. I was admiring myself in the mirror yesterday, trying on my one and only blazer which I used to wear for work. So. Sexy. I love a woman in a business suit. I don't even care how the present gender. I just think it's hot. ;) But I'm still feminine in my button-ups and pinstripes and sensible (or not) shoes. I've been growing my hair out long again. I cut it shorter than I ever have in my entire life - my best friend and I went out and had a haircut for locks-of-love. Right after my father died. It's taken my this long to get it back to my shoulder blades. I'm going to let it keep on growing and growing until I get tired of it. I've never had hair above my shoulders in my entire life until that point. It was very freeing. But I'm more comfortable in long hair. I love how it gets so messy, yet I still look like hotness.

But the most important thing has been to stop comparing myself to heterosexual femininity because... the standards are different. I just don't measure up. Don't care to.