Now that summer is over....

Now that we're into September, I'm shifting gears mentally into the fall. There's a lot we're looking forward to for this fall.

I'm launching a website.

I'm expanding my freelancing work to include specialized marketing services, so I'm building my website. I was hoping to have it up by the beginning of the month, but I ran into some complications, so now it'll be up at the end of the month instead. Either way, I'll have the website up and running soon, along with content to generate inbound leads.

I'm looking forward to it, and I think it'll be good for my career to get some private clients. I've kind of reached a plateau with the clients I currently have. So I'm ready to take the next step with my work and build a client base creating content marketing for a niche market. It's a demographic I'm passionate about, and I'm looking forward to immersing myself in that community in order to build clients and help businesses build their own customer bases.

We're taking a family vacation.

I graduated from college ten years ago, so this year's Homecoming at my alma mater will be a reunion Homecoming. I thought it would be a good opportunity to take Bo up to Illinois to meet the rest of my family, some of my friends, and to see the town I consider to be my hometown.

The original plan was that it would be a trip just for Bo and me, but now that the munchkins are homeschooled, they're coming with us, and we're turning it into a big field trip for school. Bo and I are making booklets for the kids to take with them that will include worksheets (math problems, geography, etc.) and activities (mazes, puzzles, journal prompts) to do each day. By the end of the trip they workbook will be complete. When we get back we'll print some pictures from the trip and the booklet will be part scrapbook and part workbook for school.

We're continuing to homeschool.

The kids have been out of public school since April, and we started officially homeschooling on June 1st (though we started unofficially before then). Now that it's autumn and public school is in full swing, we're continuing to push forward with homeschooling. Bo handles math and science, Monty handles social studies, and I handle Language Arts (reading, writing, spelling, grammar, etc.).

It's a dynamic that works well for us, and I love being able to teach what Puck needs to know by allowing him to write short stories. The kids are thriving academically, and we have the flexibility to do things like taking a family vacation in October since we can make workbooks to take with and continue their education even when they're in the car.

Autumn is going to be busy, but happy.

The scribbling family

One of the reasons I wanted to meet Bo was because I knew she was a writer. I thought that, if nothing else, we could become writerly friends. I lucked out and ended up with an amazing wife instead.

But there has always been the writing.

Life has been chaotic in the last couple years, especially with the kids' health and my own health. So writing has taken a back seat a bit (outside of my work, at least). But now that things are finally settling down and we have a good routine, Bo and I are both working toward making more time for writing. We've set up a desk for her in the bedroom, and I've adjusted my daily schedule a bit to give her a few hours every afternoon during which she can write (or do whatever else she wants to do).

Sometimes you have to be
a superhero to write a story.

It's not only Bo and I that write stories. Puck is a writer, too.

In order to teach elements of stories (protagonist, antagonist, etc.), I had Puck fill out worksheets to develop characters and a plot, and then write a story. He loved it. He's written two stories (about dragons), And last week, he saw a toy gryphon and said, "I have an idea for my next story."

I think he's a scribbler, too.

I love that our family is full of writers. I love seeing the creativity when Puck and Bo are developing their ideas. I love sharing story ideas with them and talking about how to make them better.

Most of all, I love seeing the pride and joy on Puck's face when he reads us his latest story.

I'm so proud of him, and I can't wait to see what else he's going to come up with this school year.

In the meantime, Bo and I will be scribbling away, as well.

What does chronic illness look like?

Since being diagnosed with fibromyalgia, I've had to make some adjustments in my life. Some of these adjustments have been good, like getting medication so I'm not in pain all the time. Other adjustments have been more of a challenge.

The biggest challenge I've faced so far is adjusting how I see myself now that I'm labelled as someone with a chronic illness.

Fibromyalgia is a lifelong diagnosis. I will always have it, I will always combat pain and its other symptoms. And it may get worse as I get older.

Because of this illness, there are things I have to do differently in my life. For now (maybe not forever), I'm giving up the idea of being able to run a marathon. Or run at all, for that matter. My exercise has to be more gentle to my body.

I'm also adjusting my daily schedule to accommodate my fatigue. I'm becoming a polyphasic sleeper (not to take advantage of the benefits, but simply because that seems to be what's easiest for my body and work/family schedule).

Right now, I'm trying to find a balance between the diagnosis and the identity. Yes, I have fibromyalgia, but I am not fibromyalgia.

One of the ways I'm doing this is by reading Toni Bernhard's How to Be Sick. So far I like her approach to chronic illness.

There is illness here, but I am not ill.

This approach is allowing me to make accommodations for the illness without letting myself get pulled into a black hole of "I can't because fibromyalgia."

I am tired and I hurt. But I still work and I still care for my family and I still do the things I need to do in order to be the woman I want to be.

It's still a process. There are days I let the fibromyalgia keep me from doing what I need to do.

There are days it has to.

When those days happen, I do what I can and try again tomorrow.

I have fibromyalgia, but I am not fibromyalgia.

As we near the end of summer

Summer is one of the slow times in my work. My primary work revolves around the academic year, so I have a lull in the summer and in December/January.

Image source: punsayaporn / freedigitalphotos.net

This year I had mixed feelings about getting to the lull. My workload in spring was quite heavy, and I needed the break once it finally came. At the same time, the void left by a lack of work was a bit frightening, knowing that my work is what our family relies on for survival.

Work picked up a little bit this month, and I know that the levels will return to normal soon. And eventually, I'll be looking forward to the break I get at the end of the year.

Despite the lull in work, I've tried to stay productive. I'm working on a few things that have to stay in the background for now, and this has been a good time to do some administrative work, get some elements lined up, and prepare for the fall season of work.

Each week and month that passes, I'm taking steps to move my career in the direction I want it to go. I'm closer to the career person I want to be, and I'm excited about what's coming.

In the meantime, I'm enjoying my summer lull, the extra time with the kids, and the chance to let myself rest a bit before the chaos of autumn begins.

How's your summer going?

Coffee-stained health

Some of you may already know that I've been having some health problems lately.

In addition to the diagnosis of rosacea, I've been dealing with a great deal of pain and fatigue that has been increasing for the last couple of years. So I got a referral from my primary care physician to go to a rheumatologist.

I saw the rheumatologist a couple of weeks ago, and he diagnosed me with fibromyalgia. His exact words were, "Well, you definitely have fibromyalgia."

Okay, then.

In addition, he thinks I also have some kind of autoimmune condition "in the lupus family." So he ordered a lot of blood work to try and determine what else, if anything, I have. Once we know what's going on, we can develop a treatment plan that helps deal with all of my symptoms. The blood work is done and I'll get the results at my follow up appointment in a couple of weeks.

If I warn you that my veins roll, it's for a reason.
This is that reason.

The experience was not exactly pleasant. I don't like getting blood drawn. I always warn whoever is drawing my blood that my veins roll and they have to be anchored. I always bruise. Sometimes (like this last time) very badly. But if it helps get answers, it's worth it in the end.

It was abrupt, this change from "something's wrong" to "chronic illness."

In the progression of what I've been experiencing, along with comments from my primary care doctor, I had a pretty good idea of what's been going on. But hearing the words made it real. I know that I'm going to have to deal with this for the rest of my life.

There is a mental and emotional shift. There are things I just can't do anymore, and things I won't be able to do when I'm in a flare (like right now). The past few week it has been hard to accept that the reason I can't do these things is because of my body, not because of my personality. There are things that I can't change, and instead of beating myself up and getting angry because I can't do certain things, I am having to create and adapt to my new normal.

It's going to be a process. And in the meantime, I'm doing what I can.

Modifying my green book

I've been using a planner (with a green cover) for quite some time. I call it my green book. In that time, I've tried different things with it here and there, and tried different planners, but I usually returned to some incarnation of the green book.

But it wasn't really working for me. I didn't have the space I needed for notes, and the layouts of the pages locked me in to using the planner in a very specific way.

It just wasn't working.

So as I was wandering around online to try and find some workarounds, I discovered bullet journaling, created by Ryder Carroll. It's a way of incorporating planning, scheduling, notes, and to-do lists all in one place. The foundation of the method is simplicity and flexibility. You can use any notebook and pen and find a way to make it exactly what you need it to be.

Here's the video on Carroll's website:

If you Google bullet journals, the image results will be full of artistically magnificent pictures of layouts and notes and oh, my goddess the pretties. And that's wonderful for those using their bullet journals as an artistic outlet. That's not me. I express myself in words, not visual art.

So I'm sticking much, much more closely to the original method developed by Carroll. I've incorporated a couple of chart-style trackers and I'm using a different method for indexing, but other than that, my bullet journal is very simple.

I can tell you that even using this method just this month has helped me stay much more organized. I have everything in one place, and the method plays into my need to write things down in order to remember them. (I ♥ analog planners!)

Because of the method's simplicity and flexibility, I'm able to make it anything I want it to be. I use it to track projects for work, it includes my blogging editorial calendar, planning and task lists for our upcoming family vacation, and even my "40 before 40" list.

I plan to stick with this planning method through the end of the year to decide whether I really like it or not. If I don't, I can go back to a different planner at the beginning of 2017.

In the meantime, I like it quite a bit.

On Father's Day

I used to value Father's Day.

I was pretty close with my dad, especially after I moved back to Illinois from Florida, and during the divorce. We spoke on the phone a few times a week, and I prided myself on showing my appreciation to him every year in June. One of the last Father's Days I spent with my dad, I surprised him with a round of golf for the two of us and my younger brother. I like golf, so it was a good morning.

When I moved back to Florida, things changed. Well... I should be more specific. I started dating Bo, and things changed. I told him the nature of our relationship was up to him, and now we haven't spoken in I don't know how long. My father has clearly made a choice based on his religious beliefs about homosexuality.

The good news is that there are aspects in which Father's Day still has value to me.

I have an amazing father-in-law.

My father-in-law looking dapper on our wedding day
October 2015

He embraces me as a daughter (no qualifiers). In fact, it was less than 12 hours after I met Bo that he friended me on Facebook, and there was no going back after that. He loves me and I love him, and when I think of Father's Day, he is the one who comes to mind.

My father-in-law is a good man. He loves his family and would do whatever he could for any of them. There are no strings attached to his love. He has never once told me, "I love you, but I don't agree with your lifestyle." He just loves me for who I am.

I have lost my father by blood by his own choice, which has caused me to also lose the rest of my family on that side. But I have gained so much more in a family by choice.

I think I came out ahead in that.

I'm a big fan of fresh starts

Every so often, I need a fresh start.

That's how I've been feeling all month.

April has been chaotic and frustrating, and has been a month of big changes. I'm looking forward to sharing some of those changes on the blog beginning next week.

We're drawing a line at the end of April, and on May 1st, things will be different.

I had to get a new Keurig

Two Christmases ago, my sister-in-law gave me a little Keurig. I was ecstatic. I'd been making due with my coffee pot, but I wasn't drinking it fast enough to justify making a pot at a time, and was looking for an excuse opportunity to have a Keurig, since I could make coffee one cup at a time. Dantyelle* had my back, and got me one.

The problem is that because I could make it a cup at a time, I was drinking a lot of coffee. And my poor little machine gave out about six weeks ago.

So Wifey got me a new one.

My new machine is bigger and sturdier than my old one. It even has a reservoir for water so I don't have to fill it for every single cup. It's wonderful.

Wifey also got me some k-cups to go along with the new machine. I typically use my refillable cups with fresh-ground coffee, but I won't say no to the gift of coffee! So I've been drinking dark French roast lately.

A lot of it.

I'm grateful for my new machine. I've used it throughout the day every day since I've gotten it. And, as you can see, Puck has been helping.

It's good to teach kids early about important things.
Like how to make a cup of coffee for Mama.

-----

*Wifey's sister's name is Danielle, so we introduced her to the munchkins as "Auntie Danielle." Tink couldn't say that, and it quickly became "Dantyelle." So that's who she is now. Sometimes "Auntie Dantyelle."

By way of an update

Things have been a little hectic in my life, both personally and professionally.

In addition to Tink's ongoing health concerns, I've had health concerns of my own. My chronic pain has gotten considerably worse, so I've got some upcoming appointments to try and get a diagnosis. My primary care physician referred me to a couple of specialists based on what he thinks it might be, and I'll be going through some diagnostic testing to see if he's right, or if it's something else altogether. It's been a frustrating process, and I don't know how much longer it's going to last. Not only do we have to narrow down what might be the culprit, but we have to simultaneously eliminate other things that it could be. And then, I can get a diagnosis and start a treatment plan and (hopefully) start to feel better.

Work has been busy, too. I'm getting into a busy season for what I do, and am taking steps to expand my work to include new and bigger clients. I haven't had much free time lately, and what little I've managed to scrounge has been spent with the munchkins and the Wifey. And, you know, sleep. I've heard that's important to get from time to time.

Fortunately, things are getting better.

Tink's appointments are slowing down and her health is hinting at getting better. I have appointments lined up so my health will get better. Work is more organized and I'm settling into a routine.

And I hope this means I'll have more time to blog. Because I have some things I think are worth blogging that I want to share. I have stories and experiences that make me feel alone, and I want to tell my story. I want to give voice to what has happened to me and how it has contributed to who I am today.

Here's to blogging.

I remember my childhood differently

Image source

Sometimes my mother will share a story about me as a child that I don't remember. Most recently, this has happened when my mom has been sharing childhood stories with Bo, telling her about who I was before Bo knew me.

But my mother remembers my childhood differently than I do.

Sometimes there are stories she tells about me that I remember happening to one of my siblings. I attribute this to age and working too much and taking care of four kids when she was younger. Just a mix-up.

But sometimes she remembers stories happening differently than I do. She'll tell me about something I did and the aftermath is nothing like the aftermath when I tell the story. Or she'll remember people being involved that, in my memory, were never there.

I have a bad memory. I readily admit that. But I don't think my memory is that bad. So I've begun thinking that my interpretations of what happened have shaded my memories, shaping my memories around my interpretation. After all, it seems that, more often than not, the memories that differ are those that I remember as bad memories but my mother doesn't. So maybe it's that my mind has changed these bad memories so that I don't remember my childhood as poorly as it was.

Maybe it's because I'm a writer. My mind has filled gaps and taken artistic liberties with my memories over the years. So now, when I hear someone else's version, it is not at all my own. Not bad or wrong memories. Just more...fictional.

I've given up trying to correct my mother. She's always sure that her version of the memory is correct, just as I am. And even if I have proof that she's the one who's mistaken, my mother thinks that couldn't possibly be right.

So I let it go.

And try to journal more often so I have a better record of my memories.

Sometimes all I can concentrate on is pain....

Image source

For quite some time I've been experiencing chronic pain. It is daily, with varying degrees of pain day by day (and within one day). Some days it's manageable, and I'm able to do what I need to do easily. Other days, I can barely sit at my desk because I hurt so much.

Lately there have been more high pain days than not.

Last week was hard. The kids were home, so we had the school/kids' schedule in addition to my regular work schedule. Usually that means late nights and early mornings since I do most of my work after the kids go to bed. And since I pick Puck up from school, I have to accommodate the lost time each day. Sometimes that adds to the stress, which makes me hurt more.

One of the hard parts is that people can't see when I'm hurting, and it's typically stress or lack of sleep or something like that causing the increase in pain. When I'm in pain, outwardly, I look the same as when I'm not in pain. And I worry that if I try to tell people I'm in pain, it will happen so often that they'll think I'm just complaining or they won't take me seriously or something like that.

People who don't have chronic pain don't understand chronic pain.

And they don't understand how taxing it is. Quite some time ago, someone referred me to the Spoon Theory. The idea is that, at the start of each day, someone with a chronic condition has a certain number of spoons. Each task that they complete, from getting out of bed to eating to driving to work, costs them spoons. Some days, pain or illness makes them use more spoons for simple activities, and they may run out of spoons sooner. Or, worse, borrow against tomorrow's spoons to get through the day.

If you don't have a chronic illness, you have an endless supply of spoons. And it can be hard for people to understand that, on a bad day, I can choose either eating supper or taking a shower. I can't do both. I can either pick my son up from school or deal with this difficult client.

And when I'm out of spoons, I'm done for the day. That's just how it is.

I'm in the process of getting more answers and an effective treatment plan. In the meantime, I take over-the-counter medications, use Icy Hot (when I think it will work), meditate, and do whatever I can to be kind to myself.

And I always try to keep a spoon on reserve to read a story to the munchkins before bed.

Starting the year the right way

Image from
tiramisustudio / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I've made some goals for 2016. Some of them are smaller goals that will be easy to achieve, but others are bigger goals that will be more complex, and will establish a foundation for long-term goals.

But I'm trying to be smarter about my goals this year. I'm focusing on taking small steps a little at a time instead of big changes all at once.

I know that it'll be easier for me to be successful if I take it one step at a time, and experience has shown me that trying to do everything all at once is less than successful.

I'm optimistic about 2016. Bo and I have big, exciting short- and long-term plans, and we're finally making progress toward them. we've overcome some big challenges, and we have a plan to overcome some other challenges that have popped up lately.

2016 is going to be a good year.

It already is.

Promoting self-care

Life has been busy lately, especially with work. Not only have my regular clients been sending lots of white papers my way, but I've been working on getting ready for the career shift taking place at the beginning of the year.

As a result, I've been sleeping less than I should, working more than I (probably) should, and running myself a bit ragged.

And neglecting self-care.

Unfortunately, I've been feeling the effects of the neglect, and have been having lots of high-pain days in the past few weeks. It's causing me to move slower, which in turn causes me to have to work harder to stay caught up with the workload. It's a vicious cycle.

It's going to stay like this through the end of the year, but I'll have some time off at Christmas and New Year's that I can use to slather myself with Icy Hot and hobble around with peppermint herbal tea until I feel better.

Hopefully, the upcoming time off will be what I need to recharge and provide some extra self-care, giving me the energy I need to jump into 2016 with a renewed energy and outlook.

Making a shift, making a career

Source

Some time ago, I started taking steps toward a shift in my career. While I was excited about the possibilities and knew it would be beneficial, I was not able to move forward with it at that time.

Fortunately, things have changed, and now I can!

Over the next month or two, I'll be working on getting back into doing marketing content writing again. While I'll still be doing a lot of white papers, one-sheets, and other marketing assets, I will be restructuring the work I do in order to include bigger diversity in content marketing as well as moving into a niche.

I'm not going to get into details quite yet, since there's still a lot to do in order to finalize the plan and launch the business. (Yes, it will be an actual factual business, y'all!) But as we get closer to the launch, I'll definitely be sharing it here, and might do a little (not much) plugging, especially at the beginning.

One of the reasons I'm making this change is because I've been thinking about the longevity of my career. I like what I do right now. The content I write is fun and interesting, and serves me well. But if I stick with what I currently have, I'll be stuck where I currently am. In order to continue advancing my career, I have to take this next (kind of scary) step.

So I'm giving myself a promotion.

Essentially, moving in this direction is a way of branching out, making my work more relevant to the industry, and ensuring that I can continue doing what I love.

I don't know how it's going to go, but it's happening either way. 2016 is going to be an adventurous year.

Sometimes a blogging calendar is just a suggestion

I was going to post last week about Veterans' Day and what it means to me to be the daughter of a veteran. I was going to post this week about the wifey's birthday.

But very very early Tuesday morning last week, my dad called me to tell me my grandfather died, and that kind of derailed things. On top of it, I wasn't able to go up north for the funeral.

So I haven't been blogging the way I intended to last week and this week.

My grandpa was a good guy.

He was from an older generation with old ideals and values. He was born in Kentucky and, as an adult, was a member of a conservative, fundamental Baptist church (that kicked his son out for getting remarried after divorce). He had certain ideas about faith and life and people that made me decide not to come out to him.

Now that he's gone, I don't regret my decision. I wish we lived in a world where it wouldn't have mattered to him that I was gay. And maybe, had I come out to him, it wouldn't have mattered. But judging his reaction to his nephew's relationship with another man all those years ago*, he wouldn't have taken it well.

Now that he's gone, I'm letting myself think about the good memories. I have to, at least for now. So I remember the time I sneaked across the deck so I could dump a bucket of water on him during a water fight. I remember him telling us kids that if we could get his wedding ring off his finger, we could keep it. (My sister got it off once, too!) I remember helping him feed the beagles he bred as hunting dogs for his friends that he let hunt deer and rabbits on his property.

I remember my grandpa fondly. And I will say goodbye in my own way in my own time.

I miss you, Grampy. I carry your memory with me.



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*That's a blog post for another day.

If I had been a son....

When I came out to my dad (about three years ago), one of the things he said to me was that he would not have taken the news as well if it had come from one of my brothers.

I didn't say anything at the time, but since then I think about that statement from time to time.

My dad was raised in a highly patriarchal, conservative Christian family. And when I came out to him, he was raising his stepdaughters in the same environment. So, in giving him the benefit of the doubt, I can try and justify to myself that what he meant by that comment had to do with pride of sons and carrying on the family name and all that kind of thing.

But I know it's not true.

What really emerged in that comment from my father was a testament to this dramatic disparity in the perceptions of same-sex relationships in our society, most notably brought on by the gross glamorized sexualization of lesbians thanks to the porn industry.

Society has made lesbians sexy. Guys want to watch lesbians or "turn them" or join in or whatever, making lesbianism more acceptable than male homosexuality.

It was more okay for my dad that I cam out versus either of my brothers because lesbians are hot and gay guys are gross.

Straight, white, cis male privilege at its finest, ladies and gentlemen.

What it comes down to is that, in our society, straight cis males have determined the "norm" for what is sexually acceptable. Since these men are sexually aroused by women (and more so by women with other women), lesbians are hot. But because these men are not only not aroused but often disgusted by gay men, the result is that homosexual males are not acceptable in society. Gay guys are gross, according to the heteronormative perspective.

So in that one comment, which my dad really intended as a twisted way of showing his support for me coming out to him (read: "I'm not disowning you. But things would be different if you were a boy"), the whole of society was encapsulated.

I was more acceptable because I am a woman. Well, because I am a sexualized object.

It's infuriating, really, to know that the only basis for this acceptance is the sexualization of lesbians for the gratification of straight men. It has nothing to do with who I am as a lesbian, or the desire for equality in society. Instead, it's just that society says lesbians are hot. I, as a sexual object, am acceptable.

But the moment you focus on the humanity of lesbians, we're back to it being sinful and unacceptable. And since men can't objectify other men's bodies the way they do women's bodies, gay men are unacceptable under all circumstances.

And, unfortunately, as long as we live in a society in which women are continually sexualized and objectified, this won't change. It's not about the people who happen to be lesbians, it's about the bodies and what they do with other (female) bodies in their intimate relationships.

Because if I had been a son, I probably would have been disowned in that first conversation.

After a month of marriage....

Bo and I have been married for one month today. There's been a lot going on in our lives, and it has made the month seem to pass more quickly. So here we are, a month after the magical day, and I haven't even written about it.

A. Harris Photography

We held our ceremony at a beautiful outdoor location that is connected to a public golf course. The reception was held in the venue's banquet room.

A. Harris Photography

The weather was perfect: nice, but not hot, and not too bright that we needed sunglasses. And yes, I did wear blue suede t-strap heels with my dress.

A. Harris Photography

We wrote our own vows, and Bo's sister, who is a notary public, performed our ceremony. I'm glad it was someone we knew who could speak to our relationship instead of someone whose ceremony would have been far more generic.

A. Harris Photography

Afterward, we had a beautiful reception indoors. With all the food you could imagine, and our simply delicious cake. The top layer was Boston creme pie (mostly for the kids), and the bottom layer was pumpkin spice with cream cheese filling.

A. Harris Photography

Oh, yeah. We also had a s'more station. It was the kids' favorite. Kind of mine, too.

A. Harris Photography

It was a beautiful day, and I don't think it could have gone any better than it did. After all, what could be better than your very own princess at your wedding? We have memories to last a lifetime, and amazing pictures as evidence.

And now, one month later, we have settled into our routine, and life is good.

Happy, monthiversary, my Bo. I love you.

My story is true for me

Source

I have been called a liar.

I have shared my coming out story to people, and been told it can't possibly be true. That I must be leaving something out or skewing it to make myself look better.Or that I knew all along and was a liar because I married Monty anyway.

But whatever anyone says, my story is true for me.

And it is that truth that I tell.

Now, I'm not saying "my story is true for me" in a way that says I've deluded myself into thinking that the story I tell is true even though it's not. What I mean is that regardless of what people think, assumptions they make, or how they react to what I tell them, my story is true. And for me, that's enough. My story is true for me.

When I made the decision to come out and divorce Monty, there were people who claimed that I knew all along that I am gay. There were people who said I'd married Monty just to get kids, or to get money from him, or whatever else they thought about me. That I'd planned what happened for a long time before I made it happen. But that's not true.

This came up again recently when I was participating in a conversation on Facebook. I shared my story and a stranger decided, based on the limited story I told in the conversation thread, that I was a liar. This person didn't believe that I really had no idea that I was gay until I realized it and came out.

But I didn't.

Here's the thing. My dad is a Baptist. A fundamental independent Baptist. So, growing up, being gay just wasn't really an option. My mom was always more open-minded and progressive, but we never talked about it. And, being raised Baptist, the expectation was that I would grow up, marry a good, Baptist man, and have babies. That was it. It never occurred to me that I might be gay because it never occurred to anyone in my life that there was anything other than being straight for Christians.

Looking back, I can see now that I have always been a lesbian. There were things in my life that I now see as indications of my sexual orientation that I didn't recognize at the time. Some of the things were small. For example, I didn't have a favorite male actor; when friends would talk about male actors they thought were attractive, I'd let others answer before me and pick a name they said. But in those moments, I didn't see those signs for what they were.

Now, of course, I look back and admonish myself for my blindness. How could I have not known? But I didn't.

Eventually, my life changed and was not so restrictive. And it was in this context that the edges of my mind crept toward the center, and I realized that the reason I always felt "wrong" was because I was a lesbian who'd just had a second child with a man I was married to.

That was a hard conversation.

I can't imagine how Monty felt at the time. I know how he reacted, but that was just the inadequate expression of his feelings. Things were very bad between us for quite a while when I came out and told him I wanted a divorce.

Things are better now. We're friends. He even went to my wedding!

No matter how many times I tell this story and am judged for elements that are perceived to be invented, my story is true. This is really and truly how it happened. No matter what anyone else says, this is and always will be the truth. And regardless of what they say, my story is true for me.

Still here. Still queer. Getting used to it.

Source

Today is National Coming Out Day. And after almost four years, I'm still coming out.

Though now it's in much more subtle ways, and far less vocal on my part. It's a look of surprise or a double-take from a passing stranger when I'm out in public and take my wife's hand.

It's the I'm-being-polite "Oh. Okay." from friends I rarely talk to when they finally get in touch and hear that I'm in a relationship with a woman.

It's the reminders that happen occasionally from my wife that when people stare, it is she that draws the attention because she doesn't fit what so many people in society think women should be, and if she weren't at my side, people would assume I'm straight.

It used to bother me. As a newly-out lesbian, I wanted to be rid of the straight part of my old life. I am a lesbian, and I wanted people to know it. So I bought some shirts from HRC, cut my hair in a pixie cut, and changed my Facebook profile picture to one of me at a drag show with friends.

Since then, I've let my hair grow back out to chin-length. I still have a shirt from HRC that I wear sometimes. And my profile picture is a beautiful shot from my wedding with Bo. (I wore a dress.) So, if I'm not with my wife, most people probably assume I'm straight.

But it doesn't bother me anymore. I don't care what people I don't know think of me. The people I care about know who I really am, and that's good enough for me. My wife knows who I am, and that's all I need. The munchkins know they have two moms, and they're happy in their life with us.

I think there will eventually be a day in society in which it truly doesn't matter if you're gay, straight, queer, trans, or anything else. You will just be you. Kids won't need to come out to their parents; they'll just bring home someone for their parents to meet.

But until then, I'll keep coming out, and keep not caring that it surprises people.