One year

It’s been one year since I came out on Facebook (thanks for the reminder, Facebook), and I almost feel normal.  I was at an event with some women from my support group about a month ago, and I expressed how I feel like I should still be coming to the group.  When I said that, they were surprised because they thought that now I was “out”, everything was fine.  Funny how we perceive people, I had the same thoughts in regards to “out” women when I was still “in”.

Yes, everything is better.  I am not hiding… not nearly as much at least.  I feel like I am finally getting some strength back.  Some strength to take risks, take on something new, maybe come out to some other random people – I don’t know.  But these things take time – I figure they probably take more time the older one gets.  I still am not out to everyone.  I still allow people to assume that I am straight… and single, when I feel it is easier to do so, or when I feel it’s not really their business.  That is fine by me – but there is some stress to it, some navigating.  I still find myself wondering if I’m being too gay, or acting too straight in any given scenario… how much of myself to I let out in this situation or that situation?

I think this is just me being new to it.  I think this is the norm for people who have been out for ages.  But it is definitely a process – a process I look forward to working through.  It does get easier for the most part.

Just a little Gaycation

I recently took a little trip to Ixtapa/Zihuatanejo Mexico with my girlfriend and a friend of ours.  A warm break to recharge the batteries.  This has been a destination for me and my family for the last 9 years.  The past two years I have gone with my girlfriend.  Travel now has the added risk of me being not just a woman, but a gay woman.  I have not yet learned how to entirely relax with this added layer, but I have been able to have moments.

As it turns out, there seems to be a small gay scene in Ixtapa/Zihua.  Last year we stumbled upon a drag show in Zihua near Zorro’s bar.  Years ago I had a drunk lesbian (Mexican) kiss me at at the same Zorro’s bar – quite suddenly, and I met another american Lesbian after dodging the first one. ( Unfortunately I was not attracted to either of them, so my sexual awakening had to wait till I was already married.)  This year we noticed little clusters of not-so-in-the-closet gays and lesbians – during the day and during the night in both Zihua and Ixtapa.  Seeing this was a relief.  I wasn’t so nervous to touch my girlfriend, be a bit less restrained.  We still would only hold hands when it seemed we were alone or in safe company – but it was something.

So I would like to encourage all you gay travellers to check out Ixtapa and Zihuatanejo.  Make it a little more gay.  I’d like to see some more hand holders next time I visit.

But enough about me…

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I want to look outward

Yes, I know – the entire universe is inside of me

But it gets lonely in here

and crazy

and suffocating.

What about you?

What kind of universe is inside of you?

I have trekked around in my own mind for so long

circling and digging and questioning and studying

I am almost lost inside of these habits.

Contentment and self love were the goals

but now I am wondering

What kind of planet do you live on?

What are the trees like there?  Do they burn red

when the seasons are changing?

When it rains – if it rains – does the damp sink in so deep

that you forget what the sun feels like?

Is there warmth?  Does your sun shine bright for you?

And does God exist?  Or have you figured that out yet…

Is there anything missing, or are you full up…

These are the things I would like to know.

Maybe I could visit your planet, your universe for a while.

Mine has become both crowded and empty.

I can’t quite explain it.  But I’d rather not dig any further

today.

Change and staying the same

Maybe once I am done examining myself, I can move on to something more productive.  I would like to say I have high hopes for 2017.  I would like to say I will get it all back on track.  All the creative progress, the career progress I made will pick up where I left off…  But I have a suspicion that it might not be so simple.  It is possible that I am changed in such a way that I will have to find a new approach to everything.   I am not sure – but it feels weird to me to have one part of my life change in such a major way and then have everything else remain the same.  Shouldn’t it all start to peel away – all the pieces?

I find myself hesitating – afraid to make choices, worried that I will end up so far down the wrong path that righting my wrong will involve completely uprooting my life.  Again.

I am working on a different mindset.  A different thought pattern.  Less defeatist.  Perhaps these lives are just layers, chapters.  Some chapters sail smoothly from one to the next while others turn everything upside down.  It’s all still the story though.  Necessary growth, growth spurts… plateaus…  Clearly I don’t have this positive outlook worked out just yet.

I used to have something going on… Don’t dwell on the past.

What if nothing comes of any of it… Don’t stress about the future.

But if I only live in the present, how do I have purpose?

Working on the balance of it.

 

I Care What People Think

One unhappy revelation that has come out of my coming out (ha) is the gross truth that I actually care what people think of me.  It’s human, don’t beat yourself up about it – that’s what my therapist says –  We all care.  But I don’t want to!! All my life I’ve prided myself on not caring what people think of me.  And that myth has been reinforced by friends and family.  I have often gotten “You know what I admire about you? You just do whatever you want – you don’t care what anyone thinks.”

Guess what guys?  It’s a big lie!  I totally care.  I just have added an extra layer on top because I also want you to think that I don’t care what you think.  Which, I’ve done a pretty good job doing – I even fooled myself.  But not deep down.  Deep down I knew that I was motivated by my ego.  Wanting to seem carefree, independent, unharmed by other’s opinions, strong, unbreakable.  Turns out I’m just another effing human being.  Very upsetting.  I mean, why the hell would I have gone through so many relationships with men – even getting married – if deep down I didn’t give a rats ass?

I knew early on that I wanted to kiss girls.  But each time I made an effort I would get shut down, shamed or teased.  So I made a joke of it.  I could go from “I want to kiss you” to “Just Kidding!!” in two seconds flat.  Luckily I’m a bit funny so I always pulled that shit off.  And then I would overcompensate with how much I liked this guy or that guy.  The deeper I got into this routine, the harder it became to acknowledge my attraction to women.  Who would believe me?  I’ve done “straight” so convincingly.

Now I’m not reducing all my experiences with men to such cold and calculating choices – it runs deeper than that – it’s more complicated.  But absolutely – if I did not care what people thought I would have been seeking out women at a much younger age.

Oh well.  C’est la vie.  Lessons learned.  With my new knowledge – that I actually care – I am able to navigate my choices with more honesty – and hopefully  make better ones in the future.   Getting older and smarter, one day at a time.

Moments of Truth.

Coming out at 35 (including admitting to yourself/discovering for yourself that you are gay) can be a real mind fuck.  Excuse my language, but it’s the best descriptive I can think of at the moment.  Aside from all the things you might think are challenging – there’s also the thought “If I was wrong about that, what else was I wrong about?!”.

I find myself over a year past my  “aha!” moment.  The moment of truth.  It was after my first therapy session with my counsellor.  I went to her because I thought I “might be gay”.  After one session with her I was walking down the street and this surge went through my body, I nearly started laughing… or crying… or choking on the sheer “Oh My God” feeling when I said to myself “I am a Lesbian”.  Since then I’ve battled that truth, questioned it, tried to define every little detail of it – but at the end of the day, it just is.

This kind of epiphany makes me wonder what else I have been lying to myself about.  What other stories have I told myself to fit into one mould or the other.  It’s easy to go into spirals with this sort of thought pattern – and I have – but I’ve recently found some kind of peace in simply identifying this internal battle.  It almost keeps me more present… and it gives me something simple to pay attention to.  Moments of truth can’t all be bolts of lightning – to be honest I still am not sure how to identify what’s what – but I’m starting to listen, and that in itself has quieted a lot of the noise.

Writing the Truth in the Moment (and a link to my short film!)

I started keeping a journal when I was about 15 or 16 years old.  I embraced my writing at around 23.  Most of the work I’ve done has been self-reflective or inspired by what I have already experienced – ‘write what you know’.  Through this, I always thought of myself as fairly self-aware – able to point out my flaws and make fun, able to understand my inner workings.  This is much of the reason why coming out and coming to terms with my sexuality at 35 was such a jolt to my system – I thought I knew myself.

Looking back, I can see there were topics I shied away from.  For instance, I don’t have any written record of my feelings for the first woman I really fell for – even though I remember it so well.  I avoided.  I pushed it away – it was the kind of thing I couldn’t quite admit on paper.  Or maybe I didn’t want anyone to find out the deep truth.  I didn’t want evidence.  I am not sure.

I let those moments pass and carried forward with my ‘hetero life’, but the feelings stayed in the back of my head.  She stayed in the back of my head.  I couldn’t explain it, I couldn’t figure it out.  The simple answer was too hard to admit.

About 5 or 6 years ago, I started working on a feature film screenplay about a closeted gay woman stuck in a marriage – this later would become the first feature I would produce (currently in post production and in need of funding) titled “Writing Kim”.  Prior to producing the feature, I  wrote, co-produced and performed in a short film with similar themes titled It’s Not About Kate.  When I watch this film now, I can see in my writing that I was too afraid to set the central character free.  I wasn’t ready to go there personally, and I wasn’t ready to go there as a writer.  I knew my truth lingered under the surface, and that frightened me.

I look forward to writing something where my protagonist allows herself to be.  Where she is queer, and it’s no longer an internal struggle.  However, for many, not being out is the reality – and I think there is a place for these stories – there is a place for the truth in the present moment.

 

 

Elizabeth G and Me

Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, recently came out on Facebook.  I’m sure most of you have already heard the basics: Her long time friend was diagnosed with terminal cancer – this pushed her to realize she didn’t just ‘love’ her friend,  she was ‘in love’ with her.  Crisis can often trigger our deep truths.

My first nano-second of a thought was “What?!”, followed by “Maybe she’s bi or fluid” to “Wait a second – she might be just like me!”.  The situation surrounding Gilbert’s “coming out” is tragic – but her choice to come out publicly brought me a kind of reassurance.  I know there are a good handful of “out” celebrities, but most of their stories don’t quite align with mine.  This can often make me feel like I’m not quite gay in the “right” kind of way.

After this past year or so of my own coming out process – I have often wrestled with my odd circumstances.  I identify as gay and/or lesbian and/or queer.  I don’t identify as bisexual.  I acknowledge there is some wiggle room or fluidity for me – but I don’t really identify as fluid.  From an outside perspective however, one would most likely tag me as fluid or bisexual – given my history with men.

The thing is – [Side note: I have no idea how Elizabeth Gilbert identifies, what her deep personal experience has been, and whether or not she cares for labels. I know this is simply my perception of her.] – reading about her coming out made me go “Yes!  I get it!”  I am a writer.  I have written plays and blogs from my previously self-assumed heterosexual perspective.  I related to Gilbert’s writing.  Before I was with a woman, I didn’t fully understand what it was that was missing.  I approached relationships intellectually and emotionally.  I loved.  I enjoyed the companionship of men.  I had sex.  I learned how to have what I assumed was “good sex”.  But I didn’t understand connection.  I didn’t understand desire.  I didn’t understand what it was to be “in love” vs. “in love with the idea of being in love”.  I was acting.  I was acting with a mostly committed heart and mind.  I enjoyed some of it, for a certain amount of time.  I was as sincere as I knew how to be… I had everything under control.

So here’s my thought about people like myself, and maybe like Elizabeth Gilbert.  I think there is a difference between fluidity and being game.  Between fluidity and being willing and interested in trying something new.  Between fluidity and genuinely working to make the most out of a unique connection with someone.  I thought sex was interesting.  I thought relationships were fascinating.  I wanted to be good at both.  I wanted to be successful as an open minded heterosexual woman.  I thought it was best to be straight if I could manage it, as being gay would be a difficult path, and would be hard for my family to understand and adjust.  I tried, and I tried to remain positive.  It wasn’t so bad.  Until it was – and then it was awful and suffocating.

That happened for me when I was 35.  A little late in my opinion.  Maybe this has happened for Gilbert just now.  Or maybe I am making grand assumptions about her.  In any case, her story has helped me to understand my story a little bit better – and for that I am grateful.

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Leonard Cohen

Leonard Cohen knew about some things

About the truth of subtle moments

The aching carried in small gestures.

 

I sing and am reminded of Toronto

There’s something that hangs in his words

about love and passion and longing

That reminds me of being in that city

And wanting to love someone

And loving a few

But knowing or hoping there was more.

 

So now I say I am gay.

The shoe fits.

But what was I before?

I don’t think I was lying

I just did not know

Most of the time.

 

The last time I saw you you looked so much older…

 

Time passes and friendships become chapters and stories.

Like when he touched the inside of my knee

And I thought I might be in love.

But that ship has sailed

And I am no longer built in that way

In a way that allows me to believe I could love a man.