Swimming in the Deep End

Well over a month ago I deactivated my Facebook. At the time I wasn't sure if it would be temporary or permanent. I'm still not sure. I am enjoying the quiet. I found that Facebook was increasingly stressing me out. I hated to see my liberal friends argue among themselves about how to be the best sort of ally/activist/caring person/liberal. I don't miss that at all. I don't miss the constant barrage of bad news. I still pay attention to the news but I choose when to subject myself to it. I do miss seeing photos of my friend's vacations, their kid's first days of school, cute pets, and the amazing meals they are proud to showcase. I miss seeing what's going on in people's lives. I'm still on Instagram but it seems like I mostly follow other hikers and mostly people I don't know. I didn't make an announcement on Facebook that I would be deactivating it. I didn't see the point as I made the decision and then just did it. I've deact

Love shouldn't hurt. If love hurts then it's not right. I had learned this lesson before, years ago when I dated someone I now refer to as Voledemort. I swore to myself I would never end up in an abusive relationship again. When my former wife moved out here (after doing the long distance thing) things quickly started to feel off. There was far more conflict than I was used to. There was yelling, there were strange overreactions like the time they left me in a restaurant and drove off, or the time they got mad at me and blocked me on facebook, or the time....(I could go on and on but I won't). These all should have been warning signs, but I excused every single one of them. I reminded myself that my former spouse had just been through the serious trauma of having their house burned down in a hate crime. I excused those behaviors because my former wife had never lived with a romantic partner before. I listened to and believed the excuses I was given for the erratic

Do you ever find yourself at an event where you meet new people and invariably one of the first questions people ask is, “What do you do?” I always respond, “You mean for fun, or for pay?” This response is often met with surprise and then clarification that the person asking wants to know what I do for work. I agree it is sometimes interesting to me what folks do for work, but I usually wait to ask that until I know them better or I ask if it is germane to the conversation.   What I prefer to ask are these questions: What do you like to do for fun? Of the places you’ve traveled, which is your favorite? What are you passionate about?   I find people’s response to these questions to usually be much more interesting than what people do for work. Some folks are lucky enough to do work that is also their passion, but let’s be real, that is maybe 5% of us. I find some meaning in my work. I find it interesting most of the time. But my job is one of the least interesting things a

It began with a hike.  Each time I would lose my footing she instinctivley reached out to steady me.   As we hiked I thought back to our time together the week prior when I had visited her in Massachusetts. I am a person who cuddles with many of my friends and our last night there at the B&B on Walden Pond it felt a little different as she spooned me. I convinced myself that I had been imagining things. We'd been friends forever after all.  Still the question popped back into my mind as we hiked the gorgeous trail on the Oregon Coast. We reached a plateau after a steep climb that provided a gorgeous view of the ocean. I stopped  to catch my breath and exclaimed at the beauty. She stopped behind me and rested her hands on my shoulders. As soon as I felt both of her hands on my shoulders I knew in my heart that she had feelings for me that went beyond “just friends.” Later that day I  was surprised when she joined me, with little coaxing,  in the freezing cold ocean to la

I’ve been thinking lately about labels, boxes, and expectations.   These all are counter to my basic nature. One of the privileges of growing older has been the ability to eschew expectations and to just march to the beat of my own drum. I recently had a conversation with a friend about how sad it is that society places greater significance on romantic relationships than platonic.   I don’t like wasting my time hanging out on the surface. If you are more than an acquaintance, I want to go to the deep end with you. I want to peel back your layers and find the meat of you. This is the thrill of human connection, being truly seen and seeing others. Why should we only do this with someone we are making it with? And why are people so concerned about who we are or are not making it with? I tell you I am thrilled beyond measure to have moved into my own new space, a space where I live alone.   Physically moving to a new space was an important step for me in moving on from my marriage w

The temptation to run away to the other side of the country is great today. I have friends who are moving to upstate New York, to a town that is allegedly queer friendly, a town that is exceedingly affordable, to a town where I have no history, no memories, no baggage. These friends I have only hung out with during one trip for a few days, but they are people I immediately liked on a level that if we lived in the same town I would make an effort to see them regularly. They are people who know about things I do not, and who know about things that I do, so there are things to learn and things to share. They are smart and kind. When I heard they were moving to this small town, I joked that I should just pick up and move there so we could be neighbors (ish). Then for the hell of it I looked on Craigslist to see how much it costs to rent an apartment or home there and was shocked how much cheaper it is.  I had daydreams about hiking in the Adirondacks, kayaking in the Finger Lakes, buil