Full Frontal Honesty: Roommate

Well, I have to be honest here. With myself, with God and with the hope of what I want to get in the end. The honest truth: I want to tell my roommate off. What I hope to get: a sense of better values and kindness towards her, generally speaking.

Yep, I’m getting frustrated with her and the feeling of “I don’t matter” in our past, current and future conversations. I lie awake in bed often going over how irritated I am with myself and why I’m so cold towards her. As I beat myself up for not being nice, rude, short or disinterested a flood of reasons why comes crashing through my head.

I can’t decide if it would be usefull to type them out or not. Would it just infuriate me more or finally squelch the burning anger? Let’s hope for the latter.

First things first: Cleaning (she and I have gone over this, so really it’s a matter of me moving on and letting go):
It took her more than six weeks to finally vacuum the apartment. I can’t remember if I said anything that made her start, but I’m almost sure it didn’t happen on her own accord. At first I thought I would vaccume with no bother if she didn’t because it only took ten minutes and I was the one with the dogs, but then it came to her sitting on the couch, going in her room, etc. while I vacuumed the living room. One time, for HER Christmas party, I offered to help her clean. As I was vacuuming she was in her room doing something (cleaning I suppose) and because of the noise, SHUT THE DOOR. Here I was vacuuming the house for HER Christmas party and she is bothered by the sound of the vacuum. No so much of, “let me help with that” or “next time I’m vacuuming”…nothing.

Once I finally said something about her pulling her weight and she wanted to make a deal that she would vacuum half the living room every week. Half. I couldn’t argue because I knew it was a step forward, so I tried this her way for a while. My only stipulation was I did NOT want to be her mother and have to always remind/tell her to vacuum, take out the trash, unload the dishwasher.

We FINALLY went to each vacuums twice a month because it was the second time I had to play “mom” and ask if she had vacuumed. Is it just me or am I being overly anal about cleaning? I always thought that when you have a roommate (not to mention two dogs) you’re suppose to up the number of times you actually clean the apartment? I thought it was normal to expect two roommates to split the duties around the house as you do the utilities and rent? I have to know if asking her to vacuum twice a month is being unreasonable, because to me it just means less dirt, hair, fur, dust, crumbs and what not that two people and two dogs leave behind.

I think what hurt me so bad about this first occurrence, and why I can’t let it go, is because I felt like I was trying to be selfless and bending. For those that know me, I’m not very bendy so I thought this was GREAT improvement. It wasn’t until I felt like I was getting unintentionally walked on that I started to feel unappreciated. Which brings me to my second point.

Second things second: Selfishness
When I was looking for a roommate I wasn’t looking for a best friend. I was looking for someone that would split half the bills and be okay to live with. Our apartment is PERFECT for roommates in that the only areas we interact are the living room/kitchen spaces. So, if we were tired of each other, our rooms could be our resort away from home. With that in mind I was pleasantly surprised that we got along as good as we did. We have plenty in common, plenty of similar interest and goals. It was a smashing success, until I felt like it wasn’t about hanging out with me but being a sound board.

I’m not going to say I’m perfect and haven’t in-listed several good friends to be the same for me, but I hope this isn’t how it normally is. If so, please tell me(promise no feelings will get hurt) and I’ll correct the situation.

I started realizing she needed to be encouraged a lot, given the silver lining and wanted to do all lot of things together. Now these things are not bad at all, but her desire to be filled was sucking my desire to be around her. It wasn’t like I could say much without it feeling like a competition (like, “Yeah, I’ve had the same thing happen to me, but it was worse.”) or like I just shouldn’t say anything at all. Even in groups, the conversation would ALWAYS circle around to her and our need to stroke her life and tell her she was equal or better to where she felt she was standing. Normally, that’s not a problem because you truly want her to succeed and find herself, but when you feel like you’ve said the same thing seven thousand times with no avail, you just want to drop it and change the subject.

Example one of selfishness irritation is Jack. He was a guy she started seeing post new year and was really interested in. Despite encouraging words, equal happy squeals of joy and wanting to hear all the details, we never stopped hearing fears, worries and over analyzing. Again, not all of these things are bad, except when you hear them six thousand times over with no ability to encourage their disappearance or smooth down their power to take over her mind. Funny thing, she’s a great girl. See’s lovely, interacting once you get to know her and real, so this guy was lucky to have her, but by the end of the whole thing you were hoping he would just take her already. I kid, but seriously.

The second nail of the coffin to my anger hit when she choose to NOT go to Amy’s birthday party and got on a date with Jack. Jack, whom after three weeks or more eventually just stopped calling. Jack, whom occupide all our conversations, shared time and generally supportive energy. I was and am still angry about that. It made me feel that all those conversations and nights I stayed up to talk with her about him a complete waste. She choose to ditch her friends (albeit not closest friends; generally the people she will see at least several times a month) to hang out with a guy.  

That misstep towards our friendship placed this huge elephant in the room for me about anything she said that ever retorted back to herself. Any conversations she would change or walk into to bring back to herself infuriated me. I began to feel like she didn’t just like me for who I was but how I made her feel.

So, in this place I got colder. I started not asking about things I knew I wasn’t wanting to have to stroke any ill feelings or worries. I started becoming increasingly distant because I didn’t want the energy I barely had after work to be sucked into a negative, complaining world. No matter what we did, she complained, but never took steps towards fixing the problem. Again, there I am as a sounding board trying really hard to not get bitten by the complaining bug. I know I’m an independent person and generally don’t enjoy hanging out with someone for several days straight, but my distance became larger than just “needing my own space”.

Third of the thirds: Ditched for a Boy Again
This time I shouldn’t have been surprised but I was. It was a Saturday afternoon, you know those times you covet for yourself because it’s the most treasured part of your weekend, and she wanted to sit by the pool drinking sangria. First, I was like, “no, no ,no…every time I sit by the pool, regardless of how much sunscreen I put on, I burn and skin cancer runs in my family and am tired of burning.” But, she wanted to hang out and I was ready to please. I made myself drink sangria, burn in the sun and talk only about her current relationship with a mutual friend. Fortunately, Amy got to hear more of it, because at that point I was annoyed with having to stroke the same things over and over again to know it really didn’t matter what I said.

As the evening was winding down, we invited said mutual friend over to hang out with us, since, hell, we talked about him ALL FREAKING DAY. The moment he gets there, they leave to go to the pool. She looked at us and said, “you aren’t coming to swim?” Knowing full well we talked about hanging out up stairs and that Amy and I were fully clothed and freshly showered. So, not only did we spend all of OUR precious afternoon doing things her way, we get ditched for another guy. Done. I was done.

I was waiting on her to just say one thing about the following morning so I could just say how uncool the behavior was, but it never happened and I was too chickened to saying anything first. Funny how you can have some of the best lines in your head for telling a person off but when given the opportunity you can’t find the words and end up complementing them on their choice in wine or something random.

Truth is I do want to be her friend, not best friend, but I want us to share a close, roommate friendliness that we’ll appreciate, but frankly I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to be fake, lie about how I feel or pretend I’m okay with the way she unknowingly treats me. I want to say something, but it never seems like the right opportunity and in the times I have said something it always comes back to me being the problem and mean. I know I’m not perfect and have plenty to work on in our paths together, but that’s just it, I’m trying to work on them and she doesn’t. She’s always summing up her situations with blaming someone/something else or that’s just the way it is.

I don’t have the words to say to her right now without getting so angry and irritated. I guess I expected more from her and that’s my problem. I’m constantly being reminded I can’t keep this mentally “if you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours” but I also don’t want to be a door mat.

The hardest part I deal with now, is that I’ve already written her off as being someone I’ll share a close friendship with. I feel like I’m a sorority friend versus a good friend to her, maybe this is how she is with good friends, but this is NOT how I am with good friends. Lately, I’ve been irritatingly cold towards her when she tries to come towards me. I’m not happy with myself, but I don’t want to open up and let her in. I don’t want to be walked on and pulled into that place where it’s all about her.

Sometimes I think because I’m very sure of what I’m willing to do and not it comes across as me not being nice. What I’ve come to accept is, though we like similar things, our true interest, what we spend money on and things we like doing are very different. That’s okay with me, but for some reason I always feel like she wants me to be on the same boat as her, which brings me to my final issue.

Forth of the forth: Differences
She likes to spend money differently than I do and because I tend to be more broke than her (I have no idea how she is able to shop so much) I don’t want to spend my last $20 of the week on the movies or eating some where I really don’t like to go. Maybe that’s selfish on my part, but it comes right back to issue two and three. I don’t want to spend money or time I’m not truly interested in if she’s just going to either ditch me or occupy all the time on her. Conversation is always awkward and competitive for some reason.

Last night, we met for bookclub and then ran an errand to get the “True Blood” season one disc (her new favorite). Amy and her really wanted to watch it, but I told them I couldn’t. I know, I know, I should have taken this opportunity to pull the group together and not be the rouge hair, but this show really freaks me out. I watched five minutes of one with her one time and I had ten minutes of child-like fear laying in bed that night. I’m horribly afraid of horror movies, dark bloody movies and certain “Law and Orders”. Weak or not, that’s the truth and I don’t enjoy being in bed afraid of the dark or things that go bump in the night. I saw the “Blair Witch” project in 1998 and still check my corners at night. The short story is I know what I can and cannot do for true, honest reasons. No matter what I said or how I explained it she wouldn’t have it. Constantly prodding me to watch it and even turning it on as soon as we got home. I have no problems with her or Amy watching it, I just knew I would be in my room while they did. It was no big deal to me that that would be the arrangement, but it was to them. So, instead of taking my concern into consideration and finding another option, she drew the line and I was in my room.

This shouldn’t be a problem but that no matter what I do it comes across as I’m a bitch that doesn’t want to play. Same goes with watching TV in general. It’s a general, unspoken rule in our house that the one who turns the TV on first is the one who controls the channel. Unless, you’ve been sitting there all day, hogging the TV, you get the power to determine what we watch, which is totally fine. I can’t express to you enough how much I don’t mind this rule, but for whatever reason, if I’m not interested in watching what she’s watching and go to my room to watch something online it appears to bother her. We don’t like the same shows so naturally we’re not going to always watch TV together. So, why, oh why, do I feel like the big, bad bitch for knowing what I want to do and not want to do?

Ugh…I’m so tired of feeling like the jerk. I know I’m pulling away, but we’re roommates, not BFFs. We don’t have to share everything or even do everything together. In fact, I enjoy it more when she does her thing and I do mine. Makes me feel like we’re adults not necessary in college.

So, it comes down to this: what do I do? Do I bring it up only to sound like the big, bad bitch again or do I learn to let it go, because after all we’re all different and I need to learn how to deal with it in a kind manner? I want to be Christ like and let so much of it go, but damn that’s hard. I want to not care if I do more of the responsibilities than she does because I’m not doing them for her. In the beginning I did because I thought how nice it would be for her to not have to work around my dirty dishes or my end of the responsibilities. But, after her not ever doing that for me, I start to feel completely unappreciated and like a fool for going out of my way to make it easier for her.

Truth is, she’s not going to change and I can’t change her, but what can I do about myself? I’m the only one that can make things happen, but how? If I have to confront her, how do I do it without it sounding like I’m a bitch? It sucks that I didn’t say anything before about her ditching me for boys because now it just seems like I have tons of issues with her, when they’ve just been building up due to actual events.

Suck.

There’s No Fun in Waiting

For the past, I don’t know, two months I’ve been obsessed with the Volvo c30. This little car stole my heart when I saw it parked outside of the strip behind Crossroads Market (or what use to be). It was navy with just lovey interior. Even though Amy described the shape of the car to be “bulbous” I still loved it, bulbous and all. 

I didn’t start my “new car” journey until I was having an in warranty job done to my Honda. I was blessed enough to have gone in when I did, because my car’s warranty expired exactly one month later. I started thinking about whether or not I wanted to get the extended warranty and then  a little thought popped into my head: get a new car. 

I looked at the Honda (because, let’s face it I love Honda) Fit and Insight. I was wanting a hatchback in a bad way. Actually, I was wanting the Volvo C30 in a bad way so nothing Honda offered me was better. One Friday, while shopping in vain for a wedding present at a store that would in fact turn out to be closed once I got there, I decided to stop by a Volvo dealer. 

“I just wanted to look”, I told myself, “It’s been a long day and you earned a little visual pleasure.” About 45 minutes later we were shaking on a not very good deal and I was borrowing the black love of my life for the weekend. Baby, does that car melt me. Elated in my own freedom and grown-up-ness in getting a deal that I wanted to show it to my parents for final approval. BAD IDEA. Not only was I shot down in mid-drive, but left crying because this one earthly possession was not mine after all. 

One embarrassing return that afternoon and credit check later, I was back in my Honda. No standard, no MP3 jack, no 2.35 turbo engine with a enough get up and go that you felt they finally managed to make the delorean in pint size. 

Since then I’ve been obsessed. I talk about it until no end. Amy has now started tuning me out and my mom makes big sighs notifying me the conversation is boring her. In short, I want it. I crave it. It’s like a flavor I can’t get out of my mouth and no gum will suffice (sorry, Jillian Michaels). Well, that was until a friend who worked for Volvo let me in on a little secret: Ever since Volvo was bought out by Ford they have the Ford promise to be flashy and fun until four years later when they start to die in the worst way. 

Dreams. Crushed.

I still held on, but now with a little more caution. Then, one lovely Saturday, I found one that compairs: the Audi A3. A five-door, hatchback with a little less turbo, but plenty of Audi promises. I’ve searched, built my own and found the prices and features relatively the same. 

Enter today. I hate today. I hate that every where I look I have people telling me “don’t buy”. “Save, save, save”, they say. I want to slap each and every one of them. 

Don’t they know about this love I have? This love given to only earthly possession that eventually find themselves broken and expensive. 

I hate this love. I hate everything about it’s green, tight little grasp that makes me feel that if I don’t get this car now I might surely die. Okay, that’s a little dramatic, but you get the idea: it’s bigger than I know how to control or want to control. 

Call me materialistic, selfish, financially screwed or economically blind. All these things I won’t deny or be offended by; in a way, I’m past all that. What I am having a hard time with is why is this stronger than I feel I can control? 

Because I’m a Jesus lover, I believe that my desire to fill a hole with earthly possession is my need to be really filling it with Jesus. Does that make sense? If not, tell me and I’ll go into further detail. 

Right now, I’ve been recounting a prayer “it’s in Your hands, it’s in Your hands, it’s in Your hands,” over and over again to remind myself God is bigger and better than this want that feels like a need. But, why is it not going away? 

I’ve been distracting myself with activities, volunteer work and friends to get this burning want off my mind. I think left to my own devices long enough I would do it. I would go up to Audi or Volvo and make the deal. I’m highly impulsive and in so many ways I like that. Right now, that’s my way of taking risks. 

I believe I was born into a “rush” mentality because I respond well under fire. I like the pressure and want the rush all the time. Perhaps, buying this lovely piece of deteriorating metal I can fill the void of wanting to move some where drastic, buying a house, getting an arm full of tattoos, starting my own business, etc. Things I think about and then push aside because they seem “crazy”. 

Long story short, I’m going crazy here with all the things I CAN’T do. What on earth can I do? Tell me, because right now I’m going crazy.

“Your Mama Voted _____”

Well, at least that’s what my t-shirts said when I ran for Senior Class President in high school. The dash was my real name and the shirts came in bright colors. I think I had several shirts roaming around school and in different classes. My name is short, so I lucked out with easy campaigning. There were these large windows in our high school cafeteria that I took upon myself to use toward my campaign. There were 16 windows and I took up as many as I could. In bright, glitter, all-cap font I wrote “______ for Sr. Prs.” I can’t really remember how I abbreviated things, but trust me it was huge. No one could escape my campaign. This was the place we ate lunch, waited for buses and generally hung out. You could not miss it. 

It was election day and I was completely excited. I was running against severl girls that proved it to be a tough race, but I thought I had it in the bag. I knew about everyone in school and I was seen as this responsible kid that could get shit done. I had gone to tons of conferences and gathered millions of ideas that our senior class could do. I can’t remember if we gave speaches or not, but I know I had one prepared. I felt like there was NO WAY I could loose. 

At the end of the day, they made the announcement as to who one the elections. The final name called was for Senior Class President. I paused, holding my breath, waiting to jump when I didn’t hear my name called but the girl who opposed me. “What the hell?” I said. Of course I was supportive and really just wanted our senior class to have a great year seeing how we were the FIRST seniors to graduate from our high school and it was kind of a big deal.

I remember getting the final numbers and realizing the vote was low. Not nearly as many students voted and she (my opponent) had won with under 50 votes (I think). I couldn’t believe that people had not voted. I sat in class with all these kids and talked with them every single day. 

The next day, when I was going through my classes, people kept telling me they didn’t know election day was yesterday. In other words they forgot to vote. I even had a few people who were wearing my “Your Mama Voted ______” shirts forget to vote. I couldn’t believe it. 

…

This morning I was groggy and very unsure what I was going to do with voting, but I knew I had to. I don’t really like either candidate and really think that no matter what the next four years are not going to be as life changing as we hope them to be. I feel like we’ll need these next four years to recover from the last four years before we’ll see a change, which sucks for either candidate walking into the office this January. 

I was in my car, driving to work, when I just knew I had to vote. I had no reason for why and actually think since I don’t know ANYTHING about either candidate (minus a few things and what I see on SNL) that I can hurt the vote. I’m not one of those that thinks their vote doesn’t count. In fact, I believe my vote can change the world, which makes it all the more scarier to think I just picked on. I’m not going to tell you which one, because then I don’t want to criticized for CHOOSING who I wanted. What I will tell you is one hour and one long-ass line later I voted. 

I wasn’t one of those who “forgot” or decided “my vote doesn’t count”. I wish I could say I was passionate about my vote, but I was more passionate about my right to vote.

Oh My Parents…

Today, like the majority of my days this year, are about me coming out. Coming out in by sexual preference, in my career, my person, my life. In the last couple of months it’s been more about me coming out to my parents that I’m “bi”. First to my mom over the phone after a heart to heart with my career councilor and now this coming weekend to my dad with my mom. 

The funny part is it’s all been going down while I’ve been at work and my co-workers have no idea. Well, maybe they do, but I sit at my non-office desk talking to my mom with tears in my eyes about coming out to my dad. It’s weird, but I just don’t care. 

It’s unusual for me to not care and try to not put a good image out there. I’ve always been the one that puts on a show and displays only the good things I want you to see. I know the majority of people do that, but I think I was rather good at it. In the recent years, I’ve just not cared. I’ve stopped wearing make-up to work and dress very casual. Two things you would have never seen me do several years ago. 

I have always been an open person and for that I’m thankful. People know just who I am in the first visit with me and I think that honest truth can either scare them away or excite them to know me. I’ve found the people who really want me around are the ones who value my honest opinion and open book story of a life. I often have friends that keep me around because I’m good for “tell me the truth” situations. They don’t want me as their best/close friends but love that I can be called on to help, support and tell it like I see it. The people that don’t like me are the ones who, in my opinion, do not know how to sit in their own truth. They don’t know how to be honest and would never dream about wearing who they are on their sleeve. 

Because I’m a firm believer this is how God created me, I take on this gift full heartily. I do think I’ve shifted far from my relationship with God, but I believe that He gave this rare, individual gift for a reason and I hate when I start to not use it. I don’t really know how to be two different people. I don’t know how to lie about who I am or pretend to be something I’m not because it eventually destroys me and I end up blurting it all out in a public place and run away. Well, maybe not to that extreme, but keeping it in just destroys me. So, I came out to my mom. 

We all know how that one went. It turns out, like I knew it, she would tell my father. If there’s one thing I learned from my parents is that marriage is between you and your best friend. Never, ever keep anything from your best friend if you’re wanting your marriage to succeed. So, I wasn’t upset that she told my dad. Rather I was relieved because she helped soften the blow and get his mind thinking before I had to talk to him. The reader must remember that my dad knew about me and Anna (first secret girlfriend), so he wasn’t 100% shocked to learn his little girl is still doing her research. 

Why must I tell my dad I’m “Bi” if he already knows from my mother? Because he wants to hear it from my mouth and talk about it. He and I are the same for which I can respect his desire to address it. 

I’m nervous as all get out. I’m trying to get a counseling appointment lined up for next week because I know I’ll need to talk to someone. No such luck on getting one of them to call me back.

I think what I’m most scared about happening is circling in conversation and a lot of angry words. It would be one thing to have a conversation that was healthy in expressing emotions, attitudes and feelings, but one that just doesn’t become realistic or reasonable is hard. 

My mom is trying to warn me and get me prepared. My parents basically feel that if I were wanting to “fix it” they would let me be, but because I’m not they want to know the game plan. My parents can’t seem to wrap their minds around this and it’s what we have to do to get there. 

I told my mom that I was scared to have this conversation with my dad and she followed with “well, if this is what you’re going to choose in life then you better get use to it.” They don’t support it and probably never will. I’m sure I have a long way to go. 

I think what I want to get out of this most is to be free to choose. I have no idea what I want five years down the road, let alone one year down the road. I know that I am interested in men as well as woman and happen to be dating a woman I really like. I’m not talking marriage or big steps, but I don’t want to close the door just because I have to. You can’t make someone do something like this unless they choose it for themselves. 

Sure, it’s scary to choose something that goes against every person in your family. Sure, it’s weird to live a lifestyle that I really have no clue about. Sure, sure it’s not easy. This is where the gays and lesbians have it easy. For them, they don’t have to choose it’s already decided. For me, it’s a matter of who I like. So much harder. 

Eh…this was not the conversation I’ve wanted to have for a while. I’ve been wanting to sweep it under the rug and deal with it in time. Time meaning I either stay in this relationship or I don’t. 

You know when you have a question you most desperately want an answer to, there is often an answer? Okay, that may have not made any sense, but work with me. I have many questions about several things not relating to GLBT, but one question that seems to just play over and over again is “what the hell am I doing”. Not “what the hell am I doing with her” or “what the hell am I doing with him” but “what the hell am I doing with this part of my life?” Am I just to exist in this question mark place? Why do I have to know? 

How is it I’m so easily swayed? My parents sway me, my friends sway, hell, even certain movies sway me. Should I just never date? Should I just be alone? I hate this part. I’m hoping that I will have more clarity come this next week. I’m hoping when I walk away from the conversation with my parents I feel peace. 

What I want most severely is to know myself regardless of those around me. I want to know my reflection, my soul, my person regardless of where I am or who I’m with. THEN I think I will feel less down, less confused.

Don’t Feel With Your Heart, Tell Me How It Is.

I have just returned from an adventure I’ve never dreamed I would have faced. Is it over? Not yet. I would say my status is in the waiting, but let me tell you the story first.

Yesterday, upon the advice of my career councilor, I unloaded the train of truth to my mother. I came out to her. Although, she always knew but never wanted to acknowledge it, it was still a shock. Her first reaction was mixed and supportive, but her second reaction (a day later) was a heavy blow. To save the details I’m not quite ready to divulge just yet, she crippled me with her withdrawal of support and acceptance. No amount of medicine could thwart the level of nausea, headache and general heart ache I felt at the time. It completely surrendered me to my home, leaving work at lunch and deep, deep depression.

As, I sat on the phone with close friend, I thought “what did I do?” My brain shuffled around the many ways I could run away, pretend it didn’t matter what she thought or how in a matter of a few words I was able to revert back to the unsure place of my faith, person and what-not. What was important fell upon the floor with my whole being: what next? What could possibly happen next that would make this moment any better. I felt the deep core of my being disappear leaving yet a small, scared child in her seat waiting for direction.

What do I do now? kept playing over and over in my mind. There were no words of comfort nor any amount of shopping that could settle the endless rattle of my mind.

I called my office, completely choking back tears making plans to take the day off and come in on Saturday. There was no way I could have gone back. I would have been such a lump of frustration, tears and anger that work was the LAST thing I would have been able to have done. I knew within my body I had to talk with my mom one more time. Something had to be understood and I had no idea how I would grab her attention enough to tell her.

I call, leave a quick, non-polite voice mail for her to return my call immediately. She calls and I swear it was a God moment. My weak, crumbling exterior shifted to something stronger, more capable then I had been my whole life. I was able to stand for the first time as an adult to my mother. For once, in forever, we were actually able to be adults together. I didn’t revert to scared child and she didn’t go toward lecturing/preaching parent.

I’m leaving several details of our conversation out, but I figure it’s not time. I’m not quite ready to go there. Not yet.

The reason I told her in the first time was to stop hindering myself from becoming this secretly hidden person. I had to start making steps toward a better, stronger, more clearer me. I wanted peace with saying, “Mom, I’m bi. It’s not changing any time soon, but here I am.” Now that I’ve said it, we’ve beat it to death, cried about it and took a sick day because of it I think I’m ready to start healing.

You see when you carry something secret for a long time it follows you and sort of eats at you. It starts morphing your truth and actual truth into whatever is easy to handle. Burdens become stronger and wills less stronger. After a secret sits long enough and you decide to tell it, you still have to go through the healing process. As much as it should comfort you and give you peace/rest it doesn’t. Well, at least not in the long run. Things don’t change automatically and you don’t see silver linings right away either. It doesn’t get easier, but the burden feels lighter. I can already see myself making decisions removed from “what if they find out” or “who do I have to pretend to be so they don’t learn my secret”.

Next plan of action? Join a book club. A mixed book club. Full of men, women, gay and straight. I’m ready.

You’re Going To Hell

How can people say that?

How can those words jump off the tongue of people who know Jesus personally?

How can one person think he/she has the ordained right to condemn someones soul to damnation?

Who are you to think you were given that right? I most certainly know I wasn’t.

There are a lot of shity people in this world that I would hope bad things happen to, but I’m not about to condemn their soul to hell. That’s not up to me.

I’m responding out of anger here, and for that I apologize. I just can’t sit here and feel it anymore.

I’ve decided to watch the “L Word” to help me balance between my straight and gay life. I’ve really suck at maintaining a balance between straight/gay friends, life styles and activities. As I’m watching this TV show there’s a few episodes that strike close to home.

1. Coming out to your parents. I hold off on this subject with my parents for many reasons. Mainly because it’s scary to say it out loud to the people who’s opinions matter the most. My parents are rather straight laced and I know just how they’ll see having a Bi daughter = hell. I use to think that maybe they would just see me as a sinner and that I could live with. After all I believe someones soul is between them and God. You have the power to influence it, shape it and love it, but you do not have the power to save it. Only Jesus can do that.
2. Condemnation. In the episode I just watched, it hit on many notes I know people within the GLBT community are all too personal with. The “you’re going to hell” and “you’re a sinner for continuing to pollute this world…”. Yeah, people really say that, think that and try to stop it because of this thought. I’m too angry to get Jesus on you, but man I would love to just sink my teeth into that idea.

What kills me the most is that the majority of people DO NOT believe in Jesus Christ. Yeah, the majority of people choose faith in something else or not at all. Of course, as a believer in Jesus I want people to know Him and His never ending, never bashing, never hating love. BUT, it is in their God-given right to not choose Him. All I can do is love, show why I believe and allow them to choose. I CAN NOT SAVE THEIR SOUL.

No matter what certain high religious Christians think, you can not save a person’s soul. You can think you have, but unless you were in their heart, witnessing their moment with Jesus from heaven, I’m sorry you can not. So stop telling people where their soul is going.

God, I hope you give me more opportunities to tell some Christians with this point of view what you’re love is really like, so that way they can stop condemning and start loving. What were the greatest commandments? Hmm? Love thy neighbor and the Lord your God? Were those not the two things Jesus kept repeating in all His sermons?

FUCK! Yeah, so you think I shouldn’t cuss and talk about Jesus all in the same breath and I agree. My only issue is I like cussing and Jesus doesn’t want me to be fake. Until I clean up my act I will not cuss towards Him ever, but will cuss. Get over it.

I have no idea if I’m going to end up with a woman for the rest of my life. Sometimes I think I will and if I do, I want to move where only the gay bubble exists. I know that’s no way to live, but rose colored glasses can’t make you cry and wish life were different. I don’t know…I guess this is more of a venting blog. It has some substance and some rambling. Most of all: don’t condemn. Jesus is the only one who can.

Not Morality But Equality

“It’s NOT a about morality as it is equality. Get off your high horse please and realize this isn’t about you or what you fear.”

I almost Twittered that. I guess that’s what separates me from those who actually have balls (figuratively). I want to scream this out loud as I read stories about Bush wanting to not give states teh right to vote on Same-Sex Marriage, but rather have the nation decide. Well, the nation is a bunch of conservative, right-winged individuals with fear. In a county founded upon freedom, it seems necessary to me that freedom not be only for the white, upper/middle class men and women. Its’ about fairness and equality that we should take a stand on this issue. Who am I and who are you to tell someone “no, I’m sorry, because I don’t believe in what you’re doing you can’t do it.”?

My parents are like this. In their opinion (which they are fully entitled to) marriage remains between a man and a woman. I can understand this and appreciate their faith behind this, but in a country of “the free” does this make sense? No. It probably won’t for some time.

I just get upset when I think about people finally getting their voice heard and BAM goes those conservatives.

You know I grew up in a conservative house-hold and probably was one until a little under a year ago (main reason I don’t like abortion-love those babies). I know their logic behind it. They’re uncomfortable with it. They fear what it means to their future and what they would have to get use to. It goes against their morals and makes them choose one more time between God and the world. Funny how they have a daughter who’s bi, but whatever. They haven’t really come to terms with that yet. But, the truth is I understand their thought and reasoning. I just wish they would see it’s not about morality but equality.

Everything is between them and God. Who am I to judge someone when I was strictly told that God was the only one who could? Who am I to tell someone their wrong when I myself am a deep sinner? Who am I?

I wish half the people opposed to Same-Sex Marriage would ask themselves that question.

AAAAAAHHHHHH!

I’m driving back to the office from yoga and whose car drives in front of mine???? My ex! Yes.

My, “don’t call me ever again”, “you’re stalking me” ex. Yes.

This was my first girlfriend and the most emotional relationship I’ve ever had up to this point. It was aweful! Her last words to me as I asked her to never call me again was, “fuck you”. Well, say what you want but get the hell out of my city!

I know. I share a city with several hundred thousand people, but why does she have to pick MY town? Can’t she go some where else? She never even wanted to move here until she met me! Well, fuck you, Anna. That’s right. I said it. Get out, get out, get out!

The good news is she didn’t see me at all. Thank God! Oh, I was so shocked when I saw her that I said God’s name in vain. I never do that. I’ll cuse but not say His name in vain. Sorry God.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I can’t believe I just saw her! I sure hope she was here for lunch and DOES NOT live here. I kind of want to cry. Gesh…

Open Your Eyes

This weekend was more of a family weekend than I intended. Hell, this whole month was nothing but family. Grandparents coming to visit and family events taking my weekends. At the close of it all I have lunch with one set today on their way out of town.

As I’m sitting there next to my ever aging grandpa (who’s at least 70-years old) I get the thought of death. My stomach bottoms out and my body feels deserted as I start to imagine what life will be like without them.

When I was a little girl I never realized that death was close to my grandparents because I didn’t think they were that old yet. Well, as age, sickness and other things happen you begin to see it may not be that far. I guess it would be one thing if they were in a nursing home or mentally/physically incapable of taking care of themselves. My great grandmother was in a nursing home before she died. Her mind went, then her ability to walk right. When she died it seemed like it was time. She was no longer her, but a body stuck here.

My grandparents aren’t ready yet. I look into their eyes and I see so much life. I want them to still see so much of my life, too. I want to have kids while their still here. I want to buy my first home and have them come to stay.

Here lately, I’ve been paralyzed by fear of the unknown. Fear of being attacked, fear of loosing my job, fear of loosing loved ones. I watch the news (first problem) and I all of the sudden find myself buying into their fear tactics of the war, finances, life and everything else in general.

This morning I turn on Good Morning America. I haven’t watched this show is so long, I felt I needed a little morning with Diane and Robin. I knew Robin had cancer, but to see her hair so short (obvious signs of chemotherapy) just made me so sad. I have know idea if she’s beaten it or still going through radiation, but it breaks my heart.

I hate fear. I want to know how this happened? It’s like one day I woke up and let so much affect me. Fear sucks. Fear is absent of God.

I need to open my eyes beyond what I’m afraid of. Life is no grantee. I need to realize that horrible stuff happens, but if life doesn’t stop there we must keep living. We must push past the crap that’s happen to us or we’ve done to others and move toward the better.

…Perhaps this is too deep a blog to do while on a mini break from work. I don’t really know where to go from here. I don’t really know how to end it; how to wrap it up to feel good about it.

I guess I just won’t.

What I Would Tell My Children

I hope I remember that when my kids (when I have them) are twenty-something and on their own that they are ON THEIR OWN. I hope I remember that they are figuring things out for the first time rather than bombard them with what they should do or when they should do it.

I’ve felt a lot of pressure lately from my parents, grandparents, old friends and generally the whole marrying at twenty-something public to settle down. Settle down for what? The life that you have to share with someone else? I think if I still break things down into “sharing” or “mine verse yours” means that I’m no where near ready to marry. I want to own my first home BY MYSELF. I want to do all the things I desire first before I have to put someone else’s input into things. I don’t want someones help as to what color I should paint the living room or what I should spend my tax-return on. I think it would be great to have someone in your life that will be there for the rest of it, but I’m just not sure about now.

I have way too many things to work through on my own without throwing someone else into the mix. I also have many stigma’s about “marriage”. Not that I don’t believe in it or haven’t had good parents to show me how it works, but that I don’t trust forever. The more I see truth in people I realize how human we are to affairs, distance in a relationship and the want for something better. Maybe that’s the magic to marrying someone, but right now I’m too jaded to believe in it for myself. I hope one day that these thoughts turn to trust and loyalty within a marriage, but for now I’m too torn on the subject.

I hope I remember to tell my children that no matter what they choose to help them figure it out I’ll always support them, love them, encourage them and be proud of them. I also hope that my children don’t become dangerous to others otherwise the “support, encourage and proud” will be more like “praying harder, calling the cops and sending them to places to help people”.

Dear Son/Daughter,

You’re well into the beginning of your life to understand that it’s fun, exciting and painfully awkward (kind of like middle school). College was either very fun, hard or a pain in the ass. Now you have the opportunity to do what you want. If you want to watch TV for five solid days, you can. If you wish to spend all your money on pizza, beer, candy and cable…well you can. It’s all up to you because now is the time in life that you get that right. You’re working for your money and you can do with it what you want (just nothing dangerous or could hurt someone else, please).

As your mother I will always love you. You will always be the “best speller” of the group. You will always tell the funniest jokes and dance the best. To me, you will always say smart things and have the best ability to make people’s day. You’re the gem of my soul and the passion of my heart.

As you look in the mirror I hope you start to see a face that does more for others and less for yourself. I hope you start doing something with that hair (make it more stylish please) and try a little mascara every now and then. Yes, I sound like my mother, but those are things I’ll always remember about her and that make me smile.

In your job you’ll have crappy days, bad bosses, horrible co-workers and short weekends. You miss your spring breaks, long holidays and sleeping in late mornings. You may not find your passion in your first couple of jobs, but just keep looking. Never loose hope that God has a plan for you.

About Him…it’s up to what you believe now. We took you to church, taught you how to pray and watched you accept him into your heart. I’m not going to tell you what’s right or wrong for your life (don’t do drugs), but what I will say is always remember Him. I learned if I stopped reading my bible my heart would harden and I would stop remembering who He was in my life. It wasn’t until I hit the bottom of the barrel sometimes that I would really remember His face. Church is hard when you’re on your own. Saturday nights are more fun and Sunday mornings are just hard to get up for. Tithing is hard because you’re short on budget and would rather buy something for yourself. My test for you is to trying giving anyways. If you don’t have a home church, send it to me and we’ll put it with our offering. I ask you to test me on this. If God doesn’t help you meet your needs every week for then next four months, then stop. Keep it for yourself. Just remember that no matter how low you feel or how lost you may find yourself (it will happen at least once) HE’S ALWAYS THERE.

Don’t worry about getting married so quickly. There will be weddings and there will be dreams about weddings, but hold off. Find who you are first. I think the more you find yourself, the more you date, the more you experience life you’ll see that WHO you want to marry will change. GOAL: Find yourself, get sick of yourself and THEN find the ONE. Doing what you want to do right now is NOT selfish. Doing what you want to do in a marriage IS. Get it out of your system. Plus, our finances for your wedding will be bigger if you wait.

I know in finding who you are, you’re going to stumble across a lot of paths. I know I did. There are many opportunities to figuring it out. My only plea is don’t be stupid about it. Don’t take drugs (it just makes me worry). Don’t hurt people physically, mentally or spiritually. In finding who you are you’ll probably fall down many times. Keep good friends by your side to help pull you up (God, me, whatever that kid’s name is with the nose ring, etc.). Don’t think for a second because you fall down we won’t love you. You may completely different than the way we raised you and that’s okay. I know I fuss, but realize God created you as you are and I will never argue with that! You’re one of my most favorite things and NOTHING you do, are, become or try will make me stop loving you.

Just remember, I see things in you that you may not see yet. I see the potential you have and the ability within you. If I nag, it’s only because I want you to shine. If you choose not to, I’ll still love you.

No matter what you choose within the next four months, years, decades I will always except you, love you and pray for you. You’re my baby after all.