Archive for the ‘dating’ Category

Really, I do want to blog more often. Ideas strike me at odd times, when I’m driving, in the middle of the night, when I’m waiting for a client, and I think ‘I should expand on that, I should write a blog post’ then evening comes around and a few minutes of peace and quiet for contemplation, a space in my day allowing me to put my thoughts down, and I just let my brain scatter over reading posts on public media, and wandering through everyone else’s words. Maybe it’s just laziness, and maybe it’s just easier to not delve to far into my own emotions.

This blog is called ‘Anonymous Dyke’. I had nothing to do with naming it, I was given the blog already in progress, already named, after expressing that I wanted to start blogging again. The original owner had stopped blogging but kept the site, it seemed like a perfect fit. I embrace the ‘Anonymous’ part of the title, theoretically feeling freer, knowing that I can express myself without exposing my love to known scrutiny. Do I embrace the ‘Dyke’ part of the title? It’s certainly how I would define myself, a word we use around this home all the time. Sometimes, though, I feel a little constrained, as though by it’s title the blog is coercing me to stay on topic, to remember that defining feature and not stray onto the path of the non-dyke things in my life. Of course I know that’s bullshit, that I can write about anything I damned well want to write about, and I do. And realistically, the stuff I want to write about anonymously is mostly the dyke stuff, not because I’m closeted or ashamed or any of that, in real life I’m out and loud and proud and political, you wouldn’t have to get any closer to us than our driveway to know that queers live here, with our bumper stickers and pride flag. But because the stuff I think about, the stuff I want to put down anonymously, is the stuff of love, the stuff of emotion, the stuff of the relationship I have with this woman who shares my life.

Introspection is the stuff of life, these are the thoughts that have the power to create us, re-create us, as we carefully examine each layer of being, deciding whether to keep or throw out. Sometimes I feel that my flaws are like styrofoam, indestructibly sitting in landfills, biding their time and resurfacing no matter how hard I try to discard them. This love, this lover, this woman who has captured my heart and soul, she is the catalyst exposing each fragment of myself that I would change if I could. Our selves are so different, we bring each other to our knees sometimes, trying to be best selves for the sake of each other, and finding our worst selves have not gone far. To be sure, I am not blaming anyone here, least of all myself. Nor am I saying that our lot is a bad one, that we are nothing but a struggle of negativity. There is more raw love in this relationship than in anything I’ve ever seen before, and that love comes equally from both sides. Sometimes it seems like this, that she is a rock, solid and stoic, almost cold in her discomfort with all things emotional, the strong silent cowboy hero of long ago movies. She is a rock but the foundation is on a fault line, beneath the surface cracks are coming through, earthquakes of emotion that rock our world close to bits sometimes. I am a hurricane of emotion, everything felt is expressed immediately, strongly, without hesitation, but underneath that hurricane there’s a solid structure, a foundation that cannot be taken down by even the strongest winds of emotion. Sometimes life here is like living through a hurricane with an earthquake underfoot, but sometimes her stoic calm and my solid foundation find each other, interlaced into a strength larger than either of us would ever have independently.

I take a look at the styrofoam, this indestructible mass of flaws that I seem powerless to discard. But these are not flaws, these are bits of self, as much a part of my being as any quality I hold dear to. It is only in this form that they are negatives, styrofoam is a menace in the landfill, styrofoam is a menace when it’s litter. Things that do not biodegrade can be reused, recycled, repurposed. These bits of me just need to reconfigure, to find their way and use, this is the true challenge. And this one I accept.

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I started crafting a well composed and well thought out blog post half a dozen times at least.  A compact and cautiously worded essay balancing my less than charitable thoughts with warm understanding and compassion.   But every time I felt that, although I agreed with the sentiments I was expressing, my heart was not entirely there.  Because the things I want to say are not as nice as I’d like to think I am, because there’s something about June that sometimes pisses me off.  For straight people, June has traditionally been a month filled with weddings and engagements.  For queers it’s been a month of Pride Parades and rallies.  White taffeta vs. rainbow extravaganza.  Weddings were a ‘them’ thing.  A contentious thing.  A thing we could not partake in.  Now, in 19 states and DC, we can.  Marriage equality has gotten a good toehold and we are not going back.

But…

1 – I believe in equality, I believe we should all have the same rights, including the right to marry, but that does not mean that I believe, or don’t believe, in the institution of marriage.  Saying I want to be seen as equal is NOT the same as saying I want to get married.   We have our own history, our own culture, and for many of us, that culture does not include the great desire to get legally married, only the great desire to be seen as human and equal.

2 – Why do straight people think it’s OK to ask questions about my relationship they would never ask a straight couple?  Not every straight person, and not even all that often, but these questions have been asked –

If I refer to her as my wife or spouse –

Are you married?

If we say yes

Legally?

In what state?

How do you have sex?

3 – I think it’s great that you believe in equality.   Put another way, I think people who do not believe in human equality are kind of fucked up.  So yes, it’s good that you are in favor of marriage equality, but you don’t need to tell me that any more than I need to tell you that I believe you have a right to marry.  I don’t need your validation or approval.  Yes, having someone smile and tell me that they think it’s fine that I’m gay is a lot better than gay bashing but it is kind of condescending, you know?  Telling my you don’t think it’s anyone’s business what I do in the privacy of my own home makes me a little suspicious that you’re actually thinking about what I do in the privacy of my own home (hint: if you watch girl on girl porn, that NOT it)

4 – This question has to go ‘Why do you people need a Pride Parade?  Why do you have to be proud of being gay?  We don’t have a straight pride parade’

Because straight culture did not suffer shame at the hands of gay culture, because you probably did not come of age being told there was something wrong with being straight, you did not have to come from a place of shame, to acceptance, to pride in being.

 

So that’s my rant.  It’s maybe not my kindest, most open side, but it’s how I sometimes feel.