I Need This

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Some mornings I awake with a song dancing through my mind. This morning it was Jessie J’s “I Need This”. Once the fog of sleep had finally lifted, I realized that the words express how I have been feeling. Recently it has seemed as though life has been intent to hit me on every possible level just to see if I could stand through it all. As the dust finally cleared, I found myself curled up on the floor and realized that life had won the battle.

I’ve felt myself slowly shutting down and retreating from the world these last few weeks. The battle with lethargy waged on violently, and I increasingly found myself loathe to do, well, anything. I saw where I was. I recognized how I felt and yet could not seem to muster the strength to make a change. I craved retreat and desired to make it healthy, but when the moment of choice arrived I would turn off my mind and tune out instead.

Recently my escape has been to get lost in a novel or watch Gilmore Girls. This may seem insignificant, because the activities alone are harmless and are both pastimes I immensely enjoy; however, they weren’t what I needed. What I needed was release. I needed to write or paint, to yell or cry. Something. Instead I found myself unable to cry and chose the laziness of thoughtless retreat. The effect on my spirit was noticeable to those around me, as I grew more quiet and increasingly irritable.

Over the past month, I have desperately tried to hold myself together, to be the strong one. I desire to be there for those around me and allowed that desire to fuel my drive. Between the emotional punches, intellectual studies, and extra projects I stretched myself to my limits. Now, without the emotional punches I still believe I can handle everything that was on my plate. But with the extra battles included? Not so much. I failed miserably.

It wasn’t until today that I realized I had been holding myself together not for myself but for the people I love. However well meant, that simply isn’t enough. There have been moments in my life where this was all I had to cling to, but I learned then –as I remember now– that it is no way to live in happiness. I have to find my place of peace and contentment within myself. I have to have joy from within my own life, no externals or superfluous reasons. If I cling to anything else, the feeling will be temporary and shall not last. It’s amazing how easily we forget lessons that at one point were life-altering. Further evidence of how obstinate habits can be.

After realizing all of these things earlier today, I found that I am able to breathe a bit easier. While I recognize that the healing will continue and the battle with my mind will never end, I still find myself encouraged. It feels as though a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, and I am once more content to just be. I feel like myself again, and I’m not going to lie –it feels good.

Till next time.

Dazed

Today I feel as though I am walking around in a daze. Most of this week I’ve found myself overflowing with emotion, senses completely overwhelmed. I have been angry yet broken and rotating between the expression of each. I will be in mid-laughter when all of a sudden I feel as though someone has punched me in the stomach. Suddenly tears are flowing freely as I gasp for breath, and I have not the willpower to slow them. My heart breaks not for myself, but for a soul no longer here that grew weary of dancing through this life. My heart aches to know that one so young, kind, intelligent, funny, and witty became so overwhelmed by despair that he saw no alternatives. I sit here thinking of everything that may have played a role in driving him to brokenness. I think of the religious arrogance that told him who he was wasn’t acceptable. I think of the jeering that may have ensued among his peers. I think of the sadness and despair. I think until thoughts become daggers piercing my soul. And today, after a week of such emotion, I find myself dazed.

I have lost count just how many times I’ve broken down in tears, apologizing to this boy, promising that I will do my part in honoring his life. In the past two weeks I have attended two funerals and have heard of two others who have passed away among those in my acquaintance. All of these events, culminating with this last loss, have sobered me completely. I find myself once more contemplating life, it’s brevity, and the impact my own is making on this world. The desire to make this world a better place for those younger than myself is not a new one for me, but the importance of that desire has once more brought itself to the forefront. No matter how long I contemplate, I am still at a loss as to what I am meant to do. Until that becomes clearer, I will continue to educate myself, continue to show love as often as I can, continue to strive to be the best version of myself I have ever been.

“…the world we live in will be either better or worse, depending on whether we become better or worse. And that’s where the power of love comes in. Because when we love, we always strive to become better than we are.”

Paul Coelho, The Alchemist

I start now as I interact with others. I continue tomorrow as I participate in “David Day”, a celebration of a young life that brought joy to so many. Above all, I choose kindness. I choose love. I choose to to not let this death hold no meaning in my life. You have changed me forever, David. I will never forget.

Little Moments

Life is full of small moments that combine to form the entirety of our lives. Some of these moments are pleasant; others are painful. Still others fall into dozens of categories in between.

Today I experienced a moment that encouraged me in a strange way. In this moment I realized that I had grown and healed in an area of my life that once was extremely sensitive for me. It happened while I was volunteering at the Boys & Girl’s Club.

I was helping one of the girls with her digital arts project when I heard a small voice come from behind me. He couldn’t have been more than 7 or 8 years old, and his question was simple.

“Are you a boy or a girl?”, he asked.

I turned and saw his eyes looking squarely into my own. It took me aback for a moment, and I found myself without words. It’s been years since anyone has asked me that question. Granted, it was a fairly common occurrence in the past. I am more feminine today than I have ever been in my life and would consider myself a chap-stick lesbian with lipstick tendencies. In the past, however, there were no tendencies. I was just a chap-stick. Toss that in with my small chest and voice that is slightly lower than what is common for the “average” female, and I was a shoo-in to confuse children. In the past, whenever it would happen I went off to be alone and cry. This time, however, I found that I was not speechless due to pain. I was speechless, because I wanted to handle this question with care.

“What do you think?”, I answered.

“I don’t know… maybe a boy?”, he replied.

I paused to assess my appearance. I was wearing fitted blue jeans, a fitted black t-shirt, and black & pink flip flops. I was lazy this morning (as usual) so my short hair was a mess of curls atop my head. I was also aware that today was a slightly stressful day at work. As a result, I had rubbed every bit of makeup off my face, save for perhaps a smidge of eye liner. I looked into this boy’s face and saw no hatred or teasing in his eyes. He was simply filled with genuine curiosity.

“Well, I’m actually a girl”, I replied.

“Oh…”, he said, as a look of confusion spread over his face.

“Can I tell you something?”, I asked.

“Sure”, he replied.

“Sometimes people get their feelings hurt when you ask a question like that. When I was a kid people used to ask me that all the time, and it would make me cry.”

At this, he looked very sad.

“Don’t worry though. You didn’t hurt my feelings. I promise. I just want to help you think about other people’s feelings too. It’s important. Maybe next time when you’re not sure if someone is a girl or boy you can just ask them what their name is. See, my name is Jessica. Most boys aren’t named Jessica. It might help a little. What’s your name, bud?”

He told me, as a smile returned to his face. I told him I was very happy to meet him, and he went back to his computer to continue working on the lesson.

When he walked away all I could do was smile. My gender identity had been questioned, and I was smiling. I’m still smiling, to be honest. I feel like I actually handled that question well. I’m sure there was a better answer, but I don’t feel mine was damaging either. I genuinely tried my best to turn his question into a teachable moment that helped him consider others. Not only that, but the question itself didn’t shake me. If anything it confirmed my confidence in who I am and how far I’ve come in that particular area of life. The words of others can only hurt me if I allow them to hurt me. They can only wound if there is some insecurity fueled by self-loathing that is already present in my heart. I realized in that moment that I’ve grown more confident in my own brand of femininity, and that is huge for me. Baby steps, right?

In addition to all of this, it reinforced in my heart just how much I adore working with kids and teaching them. I still have no idea what I want to be when I grow up (Shh… 28 is not a grown up! lol), but I hope wherever I finally land that I am able to help others and perhaps teach in some small way. I love seeing that look of understanding come across a face, especially the face of a child. You can almost see their wheels turning sometimes, as most of them have yet to master the wearing of a mask as well as most adults.

All that to say that my day was a tumultuous one, but that moment… that small moment made the rest of the stress wash away. Who knew a question that once haunted my fears and pain could become one of encouragement? Certainly not me. I’m ever so grateful it did.

Till next time.

Happy National Coming Out Day!

For those unfamiliar with the LGBTQ family, this day is a cause for much celebration and joy. It is a day that was set aside back in 1988 to encourage those still lurking within closests to finally take that step into the sunlight and live a life of honesty.

Coming out — It’s a loaded phrase. Today I have been Out for just over two years (Sep 30, 2009). Seeing as I have journeyed this earth for the last twenty eight years, I guess that would make a bit of a late bloomer. That or I’m just stubborn. Likely, it’s both.

Now, coming out should be something that is well thought out and handled with care. You would think that after walking this earth for twenty six years I would have understood that. Instead, I will be the first to tell you that I did it all wrong. Mine is an excellent example of how NOT to handle your coming out.

I could sit here and make excuses for myself. I could blame the stress of the war between the faith I clung to and the undeniable truth of my own sexuality. I could tell you that this fight had left me so torn to pieces, so broken, that the mask I had worn since I first realized I was different, at the age of eleven, was finally beginning to slip. I could tell you that I was so lost in my own struggle that one of my closest friends told me she feared for my life.

I could tell you these things, and every word would be truth. But in the end, the circumstances of our lives aren’t what matter. What matters are our choices.

I take full responsibility for the mess that was my coming out process. I take responsiblity for the fact that I allowed myself to fall for someone when I needed to be focusing on my own journey and figuring out who the hell I am. I take responsibility for the part I played in forming the rift that came between my family and I for almost an entire year of my life. I take responsibilty for my choices.

Was my heart in the right place? Yes. Was coming out the right thing to do? Fuck yes. Do I regret coming out? HELL TO THE NO!

Despite this, that first year culminated with me finding myself sitting in the deepest pit in which I’ve ever been. But as it turns out, I needed to fall that far before I would finally be willing to face myself, the girl I’d run from for most of my life. So that’s what I did. I faced myself for the first time and finally began the process of healing. I also began the process of reconciliation with those I’d wronged.

I can honestly tell you that today I am happier and more at peace in my soul than I have ever been in my life. To say that I am a different woman than I was then is a gross understatement. Some may argue that these changes are for the worse due to the way my beliefs have grown and radically changed, but they would also be dead wrong. I have found my truth, and I at last am beginning to not only know who I am but like who I am. It’s taken me a long time to get here. I still have a long way to go, but I know I am following the path I am meant to travel.

So that’s the heart of my story. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever shared it with many of you, but on a day like today I felt it was important to do so. There may be someone out there who finds themselves hurting, someone who feels alone. Remember this, you are never alone. There are others of us out there who will always be there for you. We’ve fought some of those same battles and know some of those same thoughts. Never give up hope. Life is worth living.

Whether you’re a part of the LGBTQ family or not, make today (and every day) a day to celebrate embracing who you are. Cast off lies and deceit; learn to live a life of freedom.

I want to close with a few words from Harvey Milk, “an American politician who became the first openly gay man to be elected to public office in California when he won a seat on the San Francisco Board of Supervisors.” He was assasinated on November 27, 1978, after serving only eleven months in office. (Wikipedia)

“I ask this… If there should be an assassination, I would hope that five, ten, one hundred, a thousand would rise. I would like to see every gay lawyer, every gay architect come out — If a bullet should enter my brain, let that bullet destroy every closet door… And that’s all. I ask for the movement to continue. Because it’s not about personal gain, not about ego, not about power… it’s about the “us’s” out there. Not only gays, but the Blacks, the Asians, the disabled, the seniors, the us’s. Without hope, the us’s give up — I know you cannot live on hope alone, but without it, life is not worth living. So you, and you, and you… You gotta give em’ hope… you gotta give em’ hope.”
– Harvey Milk

Remembering Matthew

“Today marks the 13th anniversary of the brutal and vicious murder of Matthew Shepard, a 21-year-old college student at the University of Wyoming. On this night in 1998, two men lured Matthew into their truck and drove out to an isolated area, where they proceeded to tie him to a fence, beat him mercilessly and repeatedly pistol-whip him with a .357-Magnum handgun as he pled for his life. At around 6:30 p.m. the next day, he was found comatose, still tied to the fence, where he had been left for more than 18 hours in 30-degree weather. The deputy who arrived at the scene later stated that the only part of Matthew’s face where there was no blood was where his tears had washed it away. Matthew was rushed to a hospital, where he died on October 12, 1998.” (via Noah Baron)

I felt it was vitally important to reflect on this moment in time and remember a young man who so easily could have been me or perhaps someone like you. I have vague recollections of this moment in history as I found myself mostly sheltered from it due to my conservative upbringing. I do, however, remember seeing a film based on his life, The Matthew Shepard Story. It was on TV, and I came in toward the end of the film. Vividly I remember seeing a young man hanging there on a fence, bloodied and broken. Vividly I remember being saddened and confused as to why anyone would hurt another person in this manner. Upon inquiring I was informed that it had been because Matthew was different. He was gay, and they didn’t like that. Little more was said. Those with whom I interacted on the subject all spoke of it with an air of sadness but none wished to discuss it further.

I was 15 years old at the time and was already fighting a silent battle with my own sexuality. I think part of me saw Matthew’s death as a warning. This was why I needed to get my act together, fight harder to be obedient to God, and learn to be “straight”. So while the LGBTQ community was sparked into action, I fearfully retreated further into my closet. The death of this young man, whom I had never met, impacted me more deeply than I would ever have been willing to admit.

Now I stand in a very different place. My heart grieves the initial reaction I had when hearing Matthew’s story, but I am also deeply grateful for it. This was the path I needed to walk in order to find the courage that Matthew and so many others like him had the boldness to live out long before I was ever willing to even consider such a step.

It is my hope that we each learn to love ourselves exactly as we are. May we learn to embrace the diversity of others and learn to see the beauty therein. May we never stop fighting for equality and justice for all of humanity. May we never cease to battle discrimination in every instance. May we never be silent.

For those interested in reading further reflections about Matthew, here are a few articles: Noah Baron, John Aravosis, David Badash, and Jamie McGonnigal.

R.I.P. Matthew, alongside the myriad of others who have lost their lives at the hands of hatred. You will never be forgotten.

Till next time.

This time, last year…

This time, last year...

This time, last year I loathed myself.
This time, last year I was aching from betrayal and heartbreak.
This time, last year I was bitter and angry.
This time, last year I ate/drank my emotions.
This time, last year I didn’t know who I was.
This time, last year I was someone I never want to be again.

This New Life…is of course no new life at all, but simply the continuance, by means of developments and evolution, of my former life.
Oscar WildeDe Profundis

It’s amazing how much one person can change in a year. *so deeply thankful*

Till next time.

Finally!

After filling out the application, taking the tour, and enduring the long wait for background checks, I am finally going to begin volunteering at the Boys and Girl’s Club of the Emerald Coast! I start Monday, and I am ecstatic about it.

Initially I thought that I would just be helping with general activities, but they had a bit of a different idea as to where I could be helpful. Instead I am going to be working with the Digital Arts Festival Club. *Sounds right up my alley, doesn’t it? Yeah, I thought so too. :) * Currently the kids are preparing for an annual competition. I will be helping them with both Photo Tech and Music Tech. The former will consist of photo selection and editing in accordance with a specific theme. The latter will consist of helping the kids write (music and lyrics), edit, and turn in their own music, again in accordance with the selected theme for the competition. Now, I am sorely under-qualified for the latter, but I am still seriously excited about helping with the projects. It will be so much fun helping the kids stimulate their creativity at such early ages.

Lately I have been thinking of ways to stimulate my own creativity. I’ve come up with quite a few changes I’d like to make in my every day life in order to aid myself in this endeavor, but there is little doubt in my mind that helping the kids with their own projects will serve to challenge my own as well. It seems to me that as much as I desire to invest into the lives of these kids I am likely to gain so much more from them than I could ever hope to give. It seems that’s how it always works in my life. I strive to give selflessly and instead feel I am given a wealth of joy and fulfillment in return. I truly am a blessed woman.

Till next time.

The Path of Life

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I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I ended up where I needed to be.

If you had told me when I was young that I would be where I am today, I would have adamantly called you a fool. I may have even grown angry at such “accusations”. I would never have even considered such a path, yet today I am so deeply grateful that I have followed the road that has led me to be the woman I am today. I am far from perfect, but I know today that I am better than I was yesterday. I know today that I am going in the direction I am meant to go, as well as the one in which I desire to go.

Being at peace with yourself truly does help you face every element in life – love, loss, joy, disappointment, etc. All of it is a bit easier to walk through when you cannot be utterly destroyed by it. I’ve come to realize this past year that while there are things that could happen/have happened to make my heart ache deeply, drawing anguished tears from my soul, I cannot be destroyed by them. I am whole in myself. It’s a strange feeling really, one I’ve never before known. It’s simply not normal for me to feel a sense of peace in the midst of pain. In the past I always experienced panic or fear in the midst of pain. So again, the new development is strange but very welcome.

I find myself in a place of contentment, not to be confused with complacency. There are things I desire, goals to accomplish, etc, but I am also happy where I am right now. It feels healthy. I’ve never felt emotionally healthy. I’m overwhelmed by the oddness of it. So even as I walk through life, facing situations and scenarios that may not be going as I would prefer, I am able to rest. I rest in knowing that life will work out as it is meant to. I rest in knowing that so long as I strive to be a woman whom I would respect and purpose to treat those around me with kindness for the sake of kindness I will live a full life. My life will be filled with joy and success, though my definition of success may differ from that of others.

“To laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children, to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends, to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others, to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch… to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded!”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson (attributed to)

Till next time.

Healing Takes Time

While having a conversation with a good friend, I was reminded that so many of us are fighting very similar battles. We’ve all been hurt and damaged, whether by the choices of others or by our own. Either way, we are in desperate need of healing and often self-forgiveness.

There may be moments where we find ourselves encouraged by the progess we’ve made. Yet, the very next moment may find us overwhelmed by a scent… a sound… a picture… something ever so tiny that strikes a chord in the recesses of our minds. Memories are stirred – some we may have even thought long forgotten. But still they find us, sneaking upon us like a burglar in the dark. Why do these memories find us, tormenting us with their return?

Because we’re human.

Healing takes time. You’re still going to have moments where the past sneaks upon you and steals the laughter from your throat. Our memories are capable of doing that to us. Trust me, I get it. Mine do so to me as well. The battle of the mind is the hardest fight we will ever face, and healing is a process that often seems to never end.

Do you have more good days than you used to? That’s huge! Quit beating yourself up for being where you are, for feeling what you feel right now in this moment of weakness. Let yourself be where you are today. Face those feelings. Address them. Work through them. Learn from them. Heal. Grow. Change.

Where I wish I to be in my journey is irrelevant. My mind and emotions may still have things to work through farther back on the path than where I expect myself to be. Even today I still battle residual effects from past hurts and choices. Over time they will fade, but it won’t happen on my schedule. Instead it is likely to happen slowly, often painfully so.

In the end, we can’t focus on where we have yet to arrive. Are you farther today than you were yesterday? Are you a better person than you were in the moment of that memory? If your answer is no, than you have some choices to make. None can make them for you. But if your answer is yes, than you are moving forward more than backward. You are changing and growing. Cut yourself some slack and let yourself be where you are. Face that memory. Address it. Work through it. Learn from it. Heal, and then grow.

Above all, remember healing is a process. Nothing happens overnight. Never quit on yourself. All that matters is genuine effort, and never forget that there are others of us out there battling right next to you and cheering you on through it all.

Till next time, my friends.

Walk Then Talk

“The Master said, He puts words into deeds first, and follows these up with words.”

Awhile back I started reading the The Sayings of Confucius. It’s not really a book I recommend reading straight through or even in large segments for that matter. Personally, I find it most beneficial to simply read a few lines here and there, as it really is just a collection of statements. I realize this means it will take me a very long time to get through the book, but I have a feeling it is a book that will walk with me through the rest of my life so all is well.

The quote at the top of this post particularly spoke to me. We’ve all heard the phrases, “Put your money where you mouth is”, “Walk your talk”, etc. To me, Confucius took it a step further. He said don’t even speak it until you first live it. As one who has persistent battles with diarrhea of the mouth, this really challenged me. I’ve been meditating on this over the past day and still feel as though I need more time with it. It’s funny how the simplest tasks can often be the most difficult to live out. Needless to say, I am really enjoying this read.

Till next time.